All Over the Place: Measures of a town’s health

A long poem in two parts

By Michael H. Brownstein

About two months ago, my town, Jefferson City, Missouri, experienced a very strong tornado – actually missed my house by about 300 yards. The whiplash was incredible – so much debris I filled too many garbage cans again and again for almost three weeks. In addition, the Missouri River flooded. A 10-minute ride to Menard’s for supplies – we had a bit of very, very minor damage – that usually takes 15 minutes round trip turned into a 2-hour fiasco.

    The water has receded, though in many areas the smells remain, and we’re still working on the tornado clean-up. A lot of people went without food for a few days. There were a few heroes helping out, Laurel Dunwoody of Love2Nourish was one of the main champions. Annie Schulte of Encore was another. Then there was the anonymous donor who offered money for a few families who actually said, “Do you know what we miss? Fried chicken.” So chicken was brought to them – the family now living out of a car; the family living in the only covered part of their home with no gas, water, or electricity; and the family that did not know what to do or where to turn.

Part 1: Laurel Dunwoody

– tornado, May 22, around 11:40 PM, Jefferson City, MO

When she woke the morning of the 23rd,
the ravages of the tornado a broken levee,
there was no question about if – only, yes,
how soon, and she opened her business
to the entire tornado community – water,
because the day was so hot, and food,
because the work was exhausting.

One neighborhood was left out of the fray,
but she organized a cadre of volunteers
and they went out in their cars, on foot,
with their children’s wagons and everyone
in need of food and assistance received it.

You can tell about a community from the way
it takes care of its most vulnerable citizens.
Laurel closed her business for two weeks
and nursed everyone back to life – and for her
and what she did – the most needy did not
falter, but became stronger, more resilient
even as the greater community showed
through their inaction that yes, you are not
people we should care about. You rent.
You are not rich. You can be ignored.
Thank you, Laura, for thinking differently.
One person can change a community.
One person, one business, did.

Part 2: Annie Schulte

You can tell the health of a town by the way it treats its most vulnerable citizens.
    Roger: In that case, I give this town a D-.
    Mike: If there is such a thing, an F+.
    Bill: No electricity, no food. Yes, there is such a thing as an F+.
    Lynn: And the rich people in this town, well, I always thought they were caring people, but now, now I know differently.

Six weeks after the tornado
raped and ransacked and traumatized
the poorest sections of my town,
Stadium to the south, Dunklin to the north,
Lafayette to the east, and Jackson to the west,
Annie Schulte opened her store
and began the beginning of making
everything that needed to be made right
right. We found a man living in his basement,
no running water, no gas, no electricity –
and she asked: What can I do for him now?
Suddenly boxes of food began to appear here
and there, flood waters not an issue, poison ivy
a small detail, a tree crushing what once was a wall
a slight inconvenience: Who else is hungry?
Yes, she fund-raised, but she also shopped, helped,
got dirty, and still gives of her time and her money
and her prayers and hopes until –

Roger: OK, maybe a C-.
    Mike: Poor as we are, what can we do?
    Bill: Bring the food to us and we’ll distribute it.
    Lynn: The town still failed, in my opinion, but this woman here, this Annie Schulte, don’t know if she’s rich or poor as we are – probably not all that poor ’cause she does own her own business, Encore, it’s called – but anyway, well, she’s my hero.
    Yeah, they concur, mine too.

Copyright © 2019 by Michael H. Brownstein Michael H. Brownstein’s latest volume of poetry, A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else, was published by Cholla Needles Press in 2018.