Aug. 10, 2020. That date will forever be seared in our collective memory. In some ways, it will be this area’s Dec. 7, 1941. Of course, we were spared the loss of life and we certainly weren’t attacked by a foreign enemy. But the brutal strike of nature and the scarred landscape left in its wake caused me for months to mark the 10th of every month as one month after the derecho, three months since the derecho, etc.
I believe none of us ever fully appreciated the beauty and shade of the trees until they were torn up and gone from our yards, parks, and countryside. As it often is when we lose a friend or relative, it isn’t until they are gone that we realize just how much they meant to us. This past summer has definitely been hotter and we have suffered more because of the loss of shade from the limbs and entire trees that were taken in the storm.
I have seen Iowans coming together, but what I witnessed after the derecho was entirely a new form of community pride, love and resiliency. What could have turned into a situation of selfishness, greed, and even looting became a time of neighbors looking out for one another and complete strangers lending a hand to anyone who had a need.
And this was not unique to greater Cedar Rapids. Once word finally reached surrounding areas of our plight, help began to arrive. I had to leave Mount Vernon two days after the storm for a funeral in Utah. As I drove west, I saw cars and trucks heading the other direction loaded with supplies to come and help the people in eastern Iowa.
At a stop for gas in Nebraska, I saw a truck filled with generators, chainsaws, tarps and gas tanks. They saw my license plate and asked if I had been in the derecho. I told them I had and described the destruction. They told me that they were bringing rescue supplies to anyone who needed it. Tears filled my eyes at their generosity and I thanked them for coming to help.
When I returned from the funeral and the initial debris was gone, our family was able to get involved, like so many of you, with clean up efforts.
Our church spearheaded a “Helping Hands” campaign throughout the harder hit areas of Cedar Rapids and Marion. For weeks, church services were cancelled and our numbers were reinforced by members who had driven in from all over Iowa, Missouri, Illinois, Minnesota, and Wisconsin to help.
Wearing our yellow shirts and smiles, we spread out into neighborhoods in need, especially ones where chainsaws and other equipment wasn’t plentiful. We would start at one house and then knock on doors offering whatever help people needed. I loved the common reaction we would get, “You want to cut up the tree in my yard and haul it to the street for free??”
As we all reflect back on the events of Aug. 10, 2020, I hope we not only remember the destruction of the derecho, but we also remember how we served one another and were served by others.
The past 18 months have been especially hard for all of us. But the derecho, as awful as it was, gave us a time to shine and to put others’ needs before our own.