Swept Away
“Get under something hard and cover your heads, now!” were the last words I heard before my life, literally, was flipped upside down. On May 20, 2013, one of the largest tornadoes ever recorded in Oklahoma swept through the city of Moore, demolishing neighborhoods and schools in a matter of minutes. Thankfully my family and pets were unharmed, but we were left homeless in the confusing wake of natural disaster. Cases of dislocation such as mine are seen throughout history again and again, though most accounts focus on the struggle of the whole region affected rather than the battles of individual accounts. The effects of personal dislocation are wrought with stressful confusion and despair; fortunately, with an optimistic approach to the conflict from both those affected and those who wish to help, dislocation can gradually transform into normal life once more.
One prominent example of dislocation seen in the twentieth century is the negative consequences of the Great Depression and Dust Bowl. Thousands of families throughout the plains region of the United States were forced to relocate due to the inhabitability of their blackened and dirt-infiltrated homes. In search of jobs and safer living conditions, “Okies” such as Minnie Louise Forester Briggs migrated from their poor farms to the rich lands of California, (“Biographies: Minnie Louise Forester Briggs”). Unfortunately, upon their arrival, swarms of Americans had to reconcile to the fact that prosperity would not be found even in dust-free states, for on top of the storm-stricken plains, the economy of the entire country plummeted to poverty. Fortunately, President Franklin D. Roosevelt held high hopes for the country, and in 1935 implemented the Works Progress Administration sector of the New Deal, successfully boosting the spirits of the U.S. “Roosevelt’s vision of a work-relief program employed more than 8.5 million people. For an average salary of $41.57 a month, WPA employees built bridges, roads, public buildings, public parks and airports,” (“The Works Progress Administration”). Families like Minnie’s that held on to hope of a better tomorrow were able to seize hold of the President’s helping hand in the midst of trial and pull themselves along with the country into a thriving society.
Another example of dislocation and its relief is evident in the Holocaust during the mid-1900’s. The story of Norman Salsitz’s plight portrays the hardships of surviving disaster under even the most daunting oppression. Born an ill-fated Jew in Poland during the Nazi regime, Norman was transported to a concentration camp at a young age where he watched a majority of his family murdered before his eyes. Soon after, the Russian army liberated the camp, allowing Norman to escape with his life. Joining the Polish armed forces under false identification, Norman worked against German influences in the newly liberated country. At age 27 he and his wife illegally immigrated to America where Norman fought to retain a sense of personal identity, for despite surviving the worst occurrence of genocide in world history, Norman woefully continued to feel oppressed in the foreign country. “I didn’t know the language. I didn’t know the people. I didn’t have a trade. I didn’t have a job. This… You became, you became worthless,” (Salsitz). Surrounded by unfamiliarity for long periods of time, Norman gradually adapted to his surroundings. His wife Amalie continually encouraged him in his endeavors to connect to the ominous society. With the help of long distance relatives who provided jobs and support, along with the bright goal of providing a better life for his daughter Esther, Norman endeavored to thrive as a Jewish-American businessman throughout the remainder of his long life. He rejoiced in saying, “America took me in and nourished me, brought me back to health. And America did everything for me that I never dreamt that America would do it for me,” (Salsitz).
A third instance of the effects of dislocation is present in the devastation of Hurricane Katrina in 2005. One of hundreds of families torn from their homes is the Thomas crew. The family of eight took refuge in their attic during the onslaught of deadly water to Louisiana. Hours later, they tore a hole in the roof to get to safety as every surrounding house and street flooded stories high. With the state in a disarray of emergency, the Thomases and thousands of others were boarded onto government flights evacuating refugees from the city. Unaware of their destination until arrival, the large family landed in Arizona, a dry state completely opposite from their humid bayou home. The eight survivors were without food, clothes, housing, and any personal items that were not with them in the attic on that August day. Stranded in an unfamiliar city, all they had to hold onto was each other and their hopes that things could only get better. Fortunately, the new community reached out to the Thomas’, providing much needed necessities and friendships. “They became the mini-celebrities of the neighborhood, with folks coming over almost daily to introduce themselves and offer help. Neighbors threw birthday parties for the children. Walmart provided a credit account for shopping. A car dealership offered a Dodge Caravan,” (“Life since Hurricane Katrina”). One Arizona couple lent their rent house free of charge to the family, where they were able to stay until they could establish a home of their own. Due to the kindness of their neighbors and their own steadfast courage, the Thomas family was able to withstand the trials of catastrophe as best they could and pull through headstrong.
My own story of the May 20th tornado is not so different from the plight of the Biggs family, Thomas family, and Norman Salsitz. At 3:30 in the afternoon I took cover within the concrete walls of my high school drama room, dog piled on classmates under a table with textbooks covering our heads. Even after hearing the train-like rumble of the whirlwind pass less than a mile away, we could not relax until we heard the news about the rest of the city. Slowly students who retained cell phone signal spread the news that a majority of our houses had been blown down, including our elementary schools. My house, right between Briarwood and Plaza Towers, was gone, along with those of several close friends’ and teachers’. However, losing my home and possessions meant absolutely nothing, because the only thing on my mind was praying for my family’s safety. My best friend’s mother was inside her house when it fell down; she brought the news as she walked mud-splattered with her two dogs over to the school that everything in sight was demolished. She walked back to my house to collect my mother, sister, and great-grandmother who were trapped in our storm cellar due to the dining room that fell on top of the door. As soon as my loved ones were safely in sight, my perspective on life changed. I only went to my house to collect debris and clean a few times in the aftermath of the tornado, for I did not wish to keep the worldly possessions worth so much less than the love I felt for my family. That summer I lived with my grandparents, and everything I owned could fit into my donated duffel bag. The courage of Moore and the kindness of helpers from around the country astounded me; groups flooded to the city, and countless people offered help ranging from cans of Vienna sausages to manpower yielding sledgehammers. I have never seen so much love in one place than I did in Oklahoma, 2013. I was sad, but at the same time happy, for I knew that things could only get better for my community and myself. A few months afterwards, my parents bought a new house a few miles down the street, where they currently live with brand new furniture and outlooks. My friends are rebuilding, and the city no longer looks like a movie set. We are all moving on as best we can thanks to the optimistic support flooding in from all sides and our drive to move on.
The best anyone can do when faced with tragedy is to look at the situation with his head held high. Making the best of the circumstance and accepting the love of others can lift one’s spirits higher than they ever could have gone on their own; from personal experience and the plight of similar cases, it is clear that the affects of dislocation can be tragic. However, when working together with confident hopes, the affected can, over the course of time, ardently attempt to remedy the afflicted faults and return to a life of harmony with the world.
Works Cited
“Biographies: Minnie Louise Forester Briggs.” PBS.org. Web. 9 February 2014.
“Life Since Hurricane Katrina: 3 Dramatic Stories of Survival.” Khou.com. KHOU News, 28 August 2010. Web. 9 February 2014.
Salsitz, Norman. “Life After the Holocaust: Norman Salsitz.” USHMM.org. New Radio and Performing Arts Studio and United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, 2013. Web. 9 February 2014.
“The Works Progress Administration (WPA).” PBS.org. Web. 9 February 2014.
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