Post-Irene

Here is the monthly note to the congregation:

29 August 2011

Dear Friends,

The state of Vermont woke up this morning to a new reality that turns the joke, ‘You can’t get there from here’ on its head. All of a sudden, we truly can’t get there from here. Whether it is from the south or the east or the north or west, either there are no options at all or extensive detours. The north, south and west will open up soon enough once the flood waters recede and repairs made but the eastern entry points, notably Route 4, will take much, much more time to be restored to pre-Irene status.

A few Trinitarians were around for the 1927 floods; a lot more for the 1973 floods and now there is a whole body that will be able to recall in future years what they were doing during the storm of 2011 and how the aftermath affected them. The photos up on the web are beyond incredible; they are horrible. In this super-connected world, postings on Facebook and email have brought home just what challenges lie ahead.

The change from a placid Saturday afternoon to a Sunday with driving rain back to a gorgeous dry and sunny day on Monday reminds us of how transitory life can be. A New York Times editorial spoke of what we have just went through in these terms: ‘In a tornado or hurricane, there is something roaring and visceral out there, something embodied, something approaching, a force acting on a human scale of time and amenable to a human sense of narrative’ (18 August 1999). As any Vermonter can now attest, we clearly have a sense of before, during and after Irene. Today, portions of Vermont, New England, and the Eastern Seaboard struggle to regain a sense of normalcy. Tomorrow it will be somewhere else.

Just as we will need to find new ways to get around, we will also need resiliency and patience to deal with whatever changes there might be in our normal routine. For those of us who were not greatly affected by the storm, we can reach out to those who were. The small congregation of Gethsemane, Proctorsville no longer has a parish hall — it is a pile of lumber — and the church’s foundation has been severely compromised by the floods. The bishop is gradually collecting information about other congregations and when asked for help, we can respond.

On a microlevel, people in our midst have gone through storms, be they physical, emotional or spiritual. We do not need meterological upheavals to remind us of how fragile our internal gyroscope can be. An illness can upset one’s emotional and spiritual well-being. The death of a family member or close friend can be as disorienting as a washed-out road. Any major change, whether in our families, friends, community, even our church, risks throwing everything in life out of balance. We have all gone through such changes and we will again and again. God does not throw these challenges at us to test us; rather, they are part of life. Simply put, the chances and changes in our lives remind us of our finitude and our dependence on God.

The words of Psalm 46 are even more poignant today as we contemplate a new landscape:

1 God is our refuge and strength, *

a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth be moved, *
and though the mountains be toppled into the
 depths of the sea;
3 Though its waters rage and foam, *

and though the mountains tremble at its tumult.
4 The LORD of hosts is with us; *

 the God of Jacob is our stronghold.

No matter what life throws at me, I trust that God is the solid rock on which I stand and that, even if the ground under my feet is not too stable or life is uncertain, all will be well. These words of Dame Julian of Norwich are not empty platitudes; they represent for me the faith that no matter how much upheaval there may be in life, I will find a path through somehow, even if it takes some real bushwacking, with God’s help.

May God walk with you as well as you navigate whatever challenges lie ahead.

Below are screen grabs of places I know in my beloved state of Vermont. They come from various blogs such as Vermont Today, or FB Vermont Flooding 2011, or Woodstock Early Bird and finally picture galleries at the Burlington Free Press.

Woodstock Farmers Market where we liked to shop.

Farmers Market is the furthest away on the left; next is the Vermont Standard.

Vermont Standard. Note the Macs.

Next in line is Leonards... next to it is a propane tank depot which, once flooded, unleashed 200 tanks down the river.

The White Cottage had the best hamburgers.

Another shot of the White Cottage.

Now moving to the west on Rte 4, one of the major, major east-west routes in Vermont that goes up and over Mendon Pass, going by Killington and Pico ski areas, and the Long Trail/Appalachian Trail...

The guy from whom we bought our property used to own the Back Behind at the intersection of Rtes 4 and 100.

I fear the livestock that the guy next to the gas station had (sort of a mini tourist attraction) got swept downstream: their little shed is the upside-down building. The gas station is across from the Back Behind.

UPDATE: Mosher did not lose his animals; Craig lured them to higher grounds; the donkeys baby-sat the sheep. Today the cow and bulls are out. Blackies [Irving gas station] is OK, the flood wiped out its parking lot; and tore the side el off.

During the storm looking east on the Killington Flats.

This white house had just been fixed up and was looking good; it is across the road from the previous photo.

Fortunately the house was empty.

Taken today from more or less the same spot.

Looking back up; this is the east side of Mendon Pass.

Now onto the west side of Mendon Pass... you'll see why we can't get there from here and why Mendon and Killington are cut off.

This is what the road looked like Sunday evening and even then it looked serious.

Here it is the next day.

Looking back the other way.

Now heading south on Rte 7, the other way out of Rutland.

Happily there is a way around this so we can get south and east.

Moving over to the other side of Woodstock and Killington, little Plymouth VT (Calvin Coolidge's birthplace).

The village is isolated with the Rte 4 washouts and here is one south of the village.

Skipping down to Ludlow VT, site of Okemo.

This photo does not show the real devastation which is in the centre of town.

Good 'za joint.

The next town over is tiny, tiny but home to Gethsemane Episcopal Church. These photos aren't very good because they are screen grabs from a video.

The collapsed building in the background is their parish hall.

Looks as though the church got moved sideways on its foundation.

Jumping upstate to Bethel....

I used to drive past this house all the time. People had done a nice job of fixing it up.

This house is to the right of the above house... this one belongs to a state trooper.

Moving up toward Montpelier, a swing through my former town, Northfield... site of the wonderful three covered bridges that sit one right after another. The highest bridge had a tree shoved up through its side through the roof and the road has eroded on either side but the bridge held. Lots of covered bridges got swept away.

I used to go under this bridge on my many trips into Montpelier. The RV store right next to the road was destroyed.

Finally, close to home...

My vet clinic Sunday night. I don't know how they fared. I am sure their partner clinic in Ludlow is destroyed.

Update: the clinic in Ludlow had no water; the clinic here is open but they said it was pretty bad the beginning of the week. They transferred all the animals to other vet clinics in town so no one was in danger. On Monday, they were seeing patients in the parking lot.

So there you be, a selective tour... in another note some other time, a few shots of Wilmington which I know from my childhood.