Wednesday, August 30, 2017

“Hurricane Harvey”



c. 2017 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(8-17)




Harvey.

Like many Americans who are in their mid-50’s or older, for myself, this name immediately conjures up a vision of the Jimmy Stewart film about an invisible rabbit. As a writer, the name evokes a different presence. That of the late counterculture hero Harvey Pekar, creator of the ‘American Splendor’ comic series. This ongoing project used a variety of noted illustrators to bring story lines penned by Harvey himself, to life.

But now, the name has taken on a new and indelible meaning. That of a natural disaster literally of epic and heretofore unseen proportions.

When watching the advance of this storm toward the gulf coast of Texas, I worried about my cousin and his family, who had moved to the state from Tennessee. I feared that they might be in peril with such a calamity of nature in effect. Thankfully, a map search indicated that they were many miles away, around Abilene. Still, as days of news coverage unfolded, it became more and more apparent that this challenge to humanity would not exit quickly. Houston was quite literally flooded.

I recognized the vastness of Harvey when it became apparent that, for a brief moment, partisan political bias, rancor, stories involving Russia and debate about Civil War monuments actually disappeared from the daily news cycle. Volunteers streamed with supplies, boats, pickup trucks and donations from every corner of the land. For once, citizens untied in a worthy cause – to rescue our brothers and sisters in need.

Of course, that moment did not last. It took only a couple of days before media pundits, Facebookers and the Twitterverse had returned to their usual cause-inspired rants.

But despite incredible havoc and forces of natural disaster having been unleashed on the Lone Star State, there was an outpouring of kinship not unlike that of the pioneers. Those with faith and heart were helping to rescue the needy.

The people of Texas were lucky that so many Americans have a fascination with pickup trucks and boats. Both proved to be undeniably useful thanks to Harvey. It seemed to prove once again a personal theory – that Hank Williams Jr. was on-target when he wrote ‘A Country Boy Can Survive.’ I have always reckoned that such blue-collar folk would be more likely to overcome a great apocalypse than those sheltered in urban confines:

I live back in the woods, you see
A woman and the kids, and the dogs and me
I got a shotgun rifle and a 4-wheel drive
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive

I can plow a field all day long
I can catch catfish from dusk till dawn
We make our own whiskey and our own smoke too
Ain’t too many things these ole boys can’t do
We grow good ole tomatoes and homemade wine
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive

Because you can’t starve us out
And you can’t make us run
Cuz we’re them ole boys raised on shotgun
And we say grace and we say ma’am
And if you ain’t into that we don’t give a damn

We came from the West Virginia coalmines
And the Rocky Mountains and the western skies
And we can skin a buck; we can run a trout line
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive

I had a good friend in New York City
He never called me by my name, just hillbilly
My grandpa taught me how to live off the land
And taught him to be a businessman
He used to send me pictures of the Broadway nights
And I’d send him some homemade wine

But he was killed by a man with a switchblade knife
For 43 dollars my friend lost his life
I’d love to spit some Beechnut in that dude’s eyes
And shoot him with my old 45
Cause a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive.”

First responders of all kinds, from places across the map, were proudly demonstrating this selfless spirit of America. A spirit borne in the hearts of everyday people. Hometown heroes. From every creed and across every line of color and culture. While leaders and public officials spoke their platitudes, everyone else was busy getting things done. Helping to save lives. And to literally safeguard tomorrow.

From the remote distance of Ohio, I could only watch the news and ponder this unprecedented spectacle of unbridled weather patterns. And human sacrifice. A reminder of our own insignificance against the immense backdrop of nature.

My response was to bow my head. And pray.

Comments or questions about “Words on the Loose’ may be sent to: icewritesforyou@gmail.com
Write us at: P.O. Box 365 Chardon, OH 44024
Published weekly in the Geauga Independent

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