Sunday, August 30, 2020

Loving Community Wide Shots Abound

The beep woke me. The camper kitchen fan remained on, but everything else was still and dark, inside and outside. I knew then that the power had gone out in our camper and the campground. No one else in my family stirred. 

I reached for my phone. It lit up when I touched the screen, revealing the time of 3:30 AM, and a text and a missed call. The text was the fact that our home motion alarm had gone off at 10:30 PM, five hours earlier. The missed called was the alarm company. That meant that, since we didn't cancel the alarm, they would've called 911. 

My first thought was to check our doorbell video camera, but since the wifi was out at the campground, and we had no cell service where our site was in the campground, that wasn't going to happen. Maybe I should walk to the front of the campground where I'll get service, I thought. 

My mind raced. Did someone break into our house? Our neighbors who were home were looking out for those who weren't, but that thought brought the sick feeling of being violated, of things trashed and lost. Burglary and looting were top of mind for those evacuated and those just getting out of the smoke due to the CZU August Lightning Complex fires burning in our areas. We've all been so stressed of late due to the fires, coronavirus and civil unrest. 

"What's wrong?" my wife Amy asked. She was awake. Good.

"Our house alarm went off last night at 10:30," I said. 

The power went back on in the campground, and a few minutes later wifi was back up. I checked our video camera footage, and sure enough, two police officers had rung our doorbell shortly after our alarm went off. That sick feeling throbbed again. 

"I need to go check the house," I said. 

"Yes, you should," Amy said.

We were only about 25 minutes from home, but it was far enough for us to get out of the smoke for a couple of nights. Smoke that still permeated much of the Westside of Santa Cruz where we live. We had been prepped to evacuate, but were fortunate that we didn't have to. Going to the campground with our camper was our choice. For nearly 80,000 people in our area, it was not a choice. We were grateful to be able to donate some bedding and other items for evacuees the day before, volunteering at one of the donation centers for evacuees and helping to sort donations.  

As I drove back to our house at 4 AM, that sick feeling grew. I thought about the time in college when I rented a house with three other guys. It was near the holidays and we had a house party. There were people there we didn't know, but hey, we were partying and all was well. The next day after we had all gone off to classes and jobs, our house was broken into. Our rooms ransacked. All the Christmas presents I had bought for my family were gone, along with other valuables, never to be recovered.

As I got closer to home, the feeling of being violated fed my fear and anger. Earlier in the week in our neighborhood, there had been a shirtless guy wearing shorts, a baseball cap and a scarf covering his mouth and nose, riding his bike around and calling out, "Here kitty kitty." He claimed to be an evacuee from the mountains and was looking for his cat he had brought with him, but his story changed after talking with other neighbors of ours. We were all convinced he was casing our houses, seeing who was house and who wasn't. There were others as well going down our street. Plus, we already had an RV homeless camp across the highway from our neighborhood that had been growing for weeks. And there had already been looters arrested in the mountain community above us, and one who had stolen from a firefighter. 

I pulled into the driveway and everything looked fine. My wife had texted if everything was okay. Beatrice was up too and texted she loved me. I texted back I was home. We had left the porch light on even though we have motion-activated lights. There was a package on our porch that had been delivered the day before. I was surprised it was still there. I picked it up and held it like a weapon. Later when I opened it, it was cookies from the RV dealer we had bought our camper from, so I was going to bludgeon the intruder with chocolate chip cookies. 

I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I turned off the alarm, the package held tightly in my other hand. Nothing askew inside. Everything was how we left it. Our rabbit was in his cage in the living room staring at me and chewing hay quietly. I checked the rest of the house -- all was well. Relief washed away the sick feeling. I fed our rabbit some vegetables, locked up and headed back to the campground with the cookies. 

I let our neighbors know what had happened with our alarm and that I had come home to check on things. Everyone who was home continued to keep an eye out for each other, just as the greater community where we live -- civilians, law enforcement and firefighters alike -- all doing their best to keep each other safe and to help each other. There has been an outpouring of donations and volunteers -- donations that are still needed for the 40,000 who still remain evacuated

In the midst of so much fear and loathing today, driven by singular events, short sensational clips and soundbites, loving community wide shots abound. Like those continuing to mobilize and help one another because of fires, hurricanes, COVID-19, racial injustice and more. 

Bless you all and your communities. 


Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts:

Sunday, August 23, 2020

A Foundation Worth Saving

The first time we experienced a possible evacuation due to a wildfire, we had no time to think about what to take. Within 10 minutes, we packed a few clothes, some toiletries, loaded our safe filled with important family documents, our computers and iPads, and had the girls pack a few of their personal items (as calmly as possible). We had guinea pigs then, but weren't sure what to do about them. 

Their cage would have fit in the car, so that wasn't a problem, but if we ended up stranded somewhere, there was no way we could keep them in the car. It would be too hot. And the eventual smell of course; guinea pigs sit in their own pee and poop. Maybe we could drop them off at a friend's house. Or maybe we just couldn't take them with us. Thankfully we didn't have to end up making that call.

Just 10 minutes earlier, I had heard a helicopter overhead. Then a plane fly by. Then the helicopter again. Then another plane. Our neighbor told us the highway in front of us was closing. My wife Amy said there was a fire down the street and we had to go. We heard multiple firetrucks and police cars scream by us down the highway. The helicopter and planes flew overhead again.

But then the fire danger was extinguished as quickly as it had started. We unloaded our car and were again safe at home. 

Fast forward to today. We had no idea the hit-and-run thunderstorms and dry lightning we had the week before would cause so much destruction. According to CAL FIRE, there are nearly 6,000 wildfires burning in California. Over 200,000 acres burned. Five deaths. Nearly 2,000 structures destroyed. The fire nearest to us, the CZU August Lightning Complex, is now near the edge of the Santa Cruz city limits and is only 8% contained. It's burned 71,000 acres in Santa Cruz and San Mateo Counties.

More than 77,000 people have been evacuated in our area. Our hearts go out to those who have been displaced, who've lost their homes and so many personal heirlooms and memories. We thank our first responders, our local firefighters and those who have joined the firefight from other states (over 1,300 total), the Red Cross, CERT volunteers and our community for donating important items needed for those evacuated, like tents, bedding, water and toys for kids. We thank our neighbors for looking out for each other's homes and keeping each other informed of the latest fire news and staying on the lookout for burglars eyeing empty homes. And let's not forget that we're still in the middle of a pandemic that's resulted in the worst economy since the Great Depression. 

Shortly after this latest fire danger escalated, we began to prepare and pack. This time we had time to pack more of what we could take and what we'd need. We got our new camper out of storage and parked it in front of our house to take with us if we had to go. We packed away sentimental things and stored them at a friend's house. We have our suitcases and boxes ready to go if the evacuation warning comes. Plus, our dog Jenny and rabbit Dragonlily. 

The fire danger hit both of our daughters, Beatrice and Bryce, pretty hard the other night. The reality of what was/is happening, the fires so close, school being canceled again, friends leaving the area due to the smoke as well as the fire, the packing of important things and the leaving of others -- actually hit us all pretty hard. What do you take when you don't know how much time you have? Or, more accurately for us this time, what do you not take when you have time to look at everything.

Really look at everything. As I filmed the outside of our house and every room, nook and cranny inside the house, I teared up. Yes, there's all the stuff we can't take with us, but there are also so many memories in this house, which thankfully we can. This being the first and only house my wife and I were grateful to buy together, and the only house our daughters have ever known. Our family pictures, the kids' artwork, every scratch, scuff and worn place. From their births to birthdays (what a way to celebrate Bryce's 10th this year) to holidays to the lean times to the many good times to today -- through all the highs and lows -- we're grateful for it all

We're still not out of the burning woods yet, but we'll have still each other no matter what happens, our #BhivePower, no matter all the things we may lose. That will always be a foundation worth saving.  


Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts:

Sunday, August 16, 2020

This Hit-And-Run Thunderstorm

"Accidents will happen

They only hit and run

You used to be a victim now you're not the only one

Accidents will happen

They only hit and run

I don't want to hear it cause I know what I've done..."

 

–Elvis Costello and the Attractions, Accidents Will Happen



As we straddled part of the two-lane highway with our trailer in tow, all I could see in that moment was the car that rammed into the back end of my Fiat X-19 at 65 miles per hour. 

That was nearly three decades ago. My ex-wife had been in that little car, her seatbelt on, and I was standing behind it trying to flag down traffic to help. We had broken down, had no power, the wheels had locked up and there was a light rain falling at dusk. We had broken down in the lane next to the fast lane on a multi-lane highway. Some cars had started to slow and pull over, and a trucker lit a flare, but it was too late. One car barreled down on us. I jumped clear. It struck the back of the Fiat and drove it over 100 yards down the highway. Amazingly my ex ended up with only minor injuries. One of the passengers in the other car had serious injuries. 


That's what I kept seeing as we tried to turn around on the two-lane highway with our new camper rig. I knew in the moment my reaction was as irrational as reliving the memory from the past, but it was too late. 


"What are you doing?" I yelled. "You cannot turn around here!"


"Yes, I can. There's plenty of room," my wife Amy said. I could tell she wasn't happy with my tone.


We had recently purchased our new trailer camper and this was only our second trip. Amy drove this leg of the trip and our two daughters were playing on their devices in the back seat. We had missed the turnoff to the campground and were now in a precarious place to try and turn around. Without the camper it would've been a quick flip around to head back the other way. 


I kept seeing another vehicle hitting us, over and over again. I pounded violently on on the plastic molding between the front window and my passenger door. 


"Stop now! We cannot turn around here! This is is a safety problem and we will get hit!"


I could feel Amy and the girls flinch at my actions and words. Again, I knew as it happened that I was overreacting. Sure, it was definitely a safety problem and we didn't have much room and there was a blind curve behind us. We ended up driving a little further to find a safer turn-around space, and shortly after that we were at the campground. We would've figured it out and we did. 


I apologized to my family and we talked through it. Amy understand why I felt how I felt, just not my aggressive response, a recurring response for me at times (the blue genes strike back). We've been spending so much quality time together as a family during this pandemic, choosing eyes of love (most of the time) in the face of any adversity. We have so much to be grateful for -- a loving family, employment, being safe and healthy. 


Accidents will happen, though. We both have gotten frustrated with our kids and snapped at them. We've gotten frustrated with each other and snapped back. The girls even asked if everything was okay between us when this happens, not understanding the difference between simple disagreements and the need for deeper dialogue. And now I realize that after these past six months of COVID-19, the deaths, the lockdowns, the economic devastation, the racial injustice, the protests, the cultural divide, the leadership failures and so much more around us that feels like it's all going to hell, that the road-straddle response referenced above was the beginning of my hitting a wall.


Again, I'm super grateful for everything in my life. But with us all home together all the time through work and play, the girls starting school from home again and us being bummed out for them, and then feeling like I don't have enough quality time with my wife even though we're together all the time, I hit a wall hard. Depressed. Lethargic. Hopeless, which is unusual for me of late. Everything feeling and looking like complete shit. The world going to hell in a big community handbasket. 


According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) latest Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report (MMWR), 40 percent of adults said they struggled with mental health challenges and substance abuse. Ugh. I haven't hit a wall like this in a long time, and thankfully Amy and I always talk through it all, walk through it all, love through it all. It's so important during weight of today that keeps bearing down on so many of us, too many of others disproportionately actually, that we talk about how we feel. Get help about why we feel this way. Don't be afraid to ask for help about when we feel this way. 


We had severe thunderstorms last night that we usually don't get in Santa Cruz. Amy and the girls slept through most of it, although the thunder kept waking me and the lightning kept flashing and waking me (and Jenny our dog who barked at it a few times during the night). The past six months have felt like this hit-and-run thunderstorm that never seems to pass, leaving me exhausted for tomorrow. 


So, I think I'll just be thankful for today instead by talking, walking and loving through it all.



Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts:

Sunday, August 9, 2020

Help Prevent the Back-to-School Bullying

He wouldn't let up. He just kept picking on other kids, making fun of them, especially those smaller and different than him, even shoving some to intimidate them further. This was 7th-grade woodshop for me, and while I don't remember him picking on me directly, he still scared me. I was a shy, skinny and asthmatic 13-year-old, and he, I'll call him John, was a much bigger 7th grader with a silver-capped front tooth.

Our woodshop teacher would intervene when he witnessed it, but John was good at getting away with it, too. Until my best friend at the time, Brad, finally had enough. Brad wasn't as bulky as John, but he was taller. John started picking on my long-time best friend, Robby, and Brad had had enough. I don't exactly remember if he shoved Jeff down on the ground, punched him, or both, but whatever he did, it stopped John from bugging the woodshop kids for the rest of the semester. Probably not the best choice to in confronting a bully, however, considering there could've been repercussions for Brad as well. 

Nearly two decades later, at our 10-year high school reunion, John would show up, get drunk, and start harassing a gay friend of ours, and a whole bunch of us verbally shut him down. I never knew John very well, never knew what his family life was like, what drove him to bully from an early age into adulthood. I was lucky in a way, because I never was really bullied in school, by John or anyone else in junior high or high school. I always got along with people from different backgrounds. 

Junior high for me was 7th and 8th grade and was a scary transition for me from 6th grade. Multiple classes, different periods and teachers, a locker with a combination I had to remember from day one. Physical education classes where I had to take showers with all the other guys and manage another locker for my gym clothes. Free-flowing testosterone spilling over the edges everywhere I went, all managed by Mr. Id, who only cared about grabbing girls' butts in the hallways and calling each other creative names that started with the word "dick". And my physical education teacher (who was also a multiple-sport coach) was a macho man who encouraged all the shaming Tomfoolery. 

But again, I was fortunate that I wasn't bullied directly. Even when in 7th grade I hung out with friends who all loved The Lord of the Rings, writing to each other in Elvish and Dwarfish runes. I was teased by my own friend group, and I teased them, but no bullying. 

I can't imagine being there today having to wear a mask and social distancing during a pandemic. That's complicated family and child well-being and polarized so many of us further. Today, COVID-19 is surging throughout America and school is starting and many states and school districts are sending their kids back to physical classrooms. Not ours; we're going to distance learning, probably for the entire school year.

Our youngest daughter, Bryce, starts 4th grade, and our oldest daughter, Beatrice, starts middle school soon (6th grade for her). While we're sad neither will be in school in person, more for their experiences than for us having both girls at home (we're good with it either way), we also think it may be a blessing. The pre-tween aura is already strong with her, and my wife Amy and I both remember being 12 years old. All the light and shadow swing of it. 

When I saw the image of the Georgia high school hallway packed with teenagers with no social distancing whatsoever, some wearing masks and many others who were not, my first thought wasn't fear of coronavirus transmission. 

My fear is about the bullying, the shaming and the ostracizing. For both those wearing masks and those not wearing masks. And for both those who test positive for COVID-19 and those who don't. Plus, those who choose to homeschool, to join small pods of people for schooling and childcare, or not (and for those who have no friend group pods to join). I haven't read any reports of it yet, but I fear it's coming. As well as the parents bullying each other and the kids about it all; the polarization in America continues to expand. 

According to my wife, who works for Kidpower (helping others create cultures of caring, respect, and safety for everyone, everywhere), adult leadership has to step in and create a culture where this kind of behavior isn't acceptable -- from school administration to teachers to parents to friends and family. I most certainly agree. Also, kids being aware, calm and confident can help curb bullying attacks before they start. And using what they call their walk-away power (walking away from a confrontation without reciprocating), leaving in a powerful and positive way:

The best self-defense tactic is called “target denial,” which means “don’t be there.” Leaving an unsafe situation is often the wisest and most effective solution for getting away from trouble. 

That's not always easy to do, especially in a crowded school hallway, or being trapped in a classroom or somewhere else where there's no where to go, so there are eight Kidpower skills in all that kids, teens and adults can all use to face bullying with confidence. We all deserve to be safe, and with the weight of today still pressing down relentlessly, we can easily break. Let's all practice being aware, calm and confident and help prevent the back-to-school bullying.