Community of Steel


Alabama pulls together as one

Tuscaloosa missing: 9.

This time last week that number was in the hundreds.

I’ve heard a few times now that celebrities, politicians, emergency personnel from other states, and of course, President Obama, have remarked on how Alabama has pulled together like no other.

My Facebook feed transformed into a grand central station of rescue efforts and honestly? I’d want it no other way. Yes, I see less random, entertaining (or annoying) statuses, but right now it’s exactly what it should be: a social network running in emergency mode.

For a long time now, as many of you know, I’ve lived in Montgomery. It was a move that occurred 5 years ago, when Conner was only 18 months old. Monty has it’s good qualities, but I don’t belong. Birmingham, however, kept calling my name.

I tried to answer several times, but it just wasn’t in the cards – a series of “unanswered prayers” if you will.

Then life happened, and doors slammed shut, while massive windows opened. I was finally going to move back to the city I’d learn to love.

Think back 5 years ago – how far has the city come? Exactly.

But then late April came and a literal path was ripped across Alabama in the 2 weeks between Easter and Mother’s Day. Central parts of the state – my Alma Mater in Tuscaloosa, near my bestie in downtown Birmingham, all over Cahaba Heights where I’d spent time during my dating years, Pleasant Grove near my grandmother, my sister not too far away from her without power for nearly a week. The other places that I’ve never seen, but know someone who has.

My home state changed instantly, which is never easy to swallow.

And change it did – neighbors turned to friends in a heartbeat. We stopped working on our lives, and picked up pieces of the ones around us. We mourned. We gasped. We cried.

Then we worked.

And worked.

And I will never be more proud to say that I’ve fallen in love with those around me. Right now, I don’t feel like my local government is failing. Our media is a powerhouse, and our community is made of steel (straight from the iron ore of Birmingham, no less).

Tuscaloosa is missing 9 people.

We all feel knee deep right now – tired and on edge. The skies are being watched and we are learning how to prevent loss of life in the future. This story on Facebook (which I strongly encourage you read), like many of those stories we hear throughout this tragedy, teaches you to fear, but prepare.

I hope we are a shinning example to future disaster’s. If you become selfless, humanity wins.

We are Alabama.

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