The View From the Corner: Gateway to the Rebuilding, Post Tornado

There is something to be said about living on a corner, one which most people had to pass in order to get to other parts of Arlington Woods. Life passed by in a steady flow — people, workmen, city trucks, police, fire, medics — they all came and went at all hours of the day and into the evening. There was a lot to see; more to do than there was manpower to tackle it.

Because we were on the corner, people had access to us where they didn't to those located deeper within the community, at least until the debris was cleared away. I doesn't matter how organized workers were, there was always someone disgruntled that they had to wait for help. When you're dealing with a trauma like this, it's understandable. Intellectually we all knew this but emotionally, it was hard to accept.

The patience level (for the most part) of the officers protecting the area was incredible. Residents would rant and rave at them when they didn't get what they needed. Some got angry because they knew their property value went down because of an event that occurred in less than a minute in time. Consider that!  The tornado was over in a blink but the devastation will last for decades.

I watched as one resident walked over to a cop in his car and started to rant about how her property value was down. He was trying to manage the rubber-neckers, make sure looters were kept at bay and that the residents could be left alone to cope with their losses. What in the world could they do about someone's property value? And yet, they remained calm, respectful, listened and gave what advice they could.

They were our rocks.

One officer continuously stepped up to help in any way he could, even if it were to just ask if we were OK. When a truck broke down in our driveway and workers couldn't gain access to remove trees, he gave them a a piece of his mind and told them to get it out of there or he'd have it towed. I thought my threat of putting a huge truck on Kijiji would have more impact, not to mention pay for much of the repairs, but there's something about having a badge that has more clout!

You know what a person is made of when their colleagues praise them to the skies especially when they're not around and that was Sergeant Louis. He didn't only watch me vent, he wanted to know why I was upset about something and did his best to give me advice or fix the problem. He made sure we were left alone by outsiders as much as possible. He checked to see that we were eating, that we had what we needed and, if we had to find a city worker for something specific, he would either point us in a direction or send the worker over to our house when they were available.

I can't begin to describe how violated I felt when our home was attacked by nature and feeling so open, so vulnerable. Knowing he and his fellow officers were on guard on our corner, helped us sleep at night, even if it was in another location.

The before and after is stark. Facebook reminded me of a picture I posted after we changed the lighting in the kitchen where you see all the trees out the window and now there's nothing. Where we had total privacy before, now we're open to curious and prying eyes all the way from down the street. Our view is broken bits and pieces of what was once majestic age-old trees. That's gone. Nothing to do now. First we rebuild and then we'll replant.

I ask people in the middle of crises, "What is so perfect about this when it clearly isn't?" Sometimes they can answer and most of the time not. In this case, if I asked myself that question, in the middle of it all, I've made some new friends, one named Louie. Nothing more perfect than the gift of a new friend.