Opinion : The storm and other lessons on the unfairness of life

It's common, during storms and other disasters, for people to utter phrases that basically say, "Life is not fair."

One inspiring thing about our community is that I only heard those sentiments from people who had not suffered much from the storm, as they shared their concern for those who suffered significant property losses: "Life is not fair for him or her."

And those who did suffer property losses were too busy beginning the recovery work --- and also too busy being thankful that nobody got hurt -- to take time to express or seek self-pity.

"I feel guilty because I have electricity, and most others don't," said one local leader, who offered the use of that electricity and their undamaged property to help others who were facing difficulties because of Monday's storm.

While life was quite unfair to many in our area this past week, it was utterly too kind to me.

We live far enough north that we escaped with just a couple of small branches down, and no property damage. And since our daughter in Vinton and her family have been without power all week, they stayed at our house. So basically the storm has given me several more hours per day to spoil and be spoiled by my granddaughters.

We began Monday morning by surveying the damage (we were without electricity from 5 a.m. to sometime in the afternoon; we had power when we returned home at 5 p.m). We drove around Vinton, then decided to help our daughter and her neighbors clean up their area. After that, we began taking photos and putting them on the web site.

"Wow," said Mrs. C., a hundred times or more, as she saw the damaged trees, barns and houses. The nice thing about not being affected by the storm the way most others were was that we had the time and the opportunity to publish photos and stories, as well as updates from public officials.

We drove on just about every street in Vinton, and most in Urbana and Garrison, along with several rural roads.

Everyone with damaged property who spoke to me spoke only about how lucky they are. Nobody whined or complained that life was not fair to them. Some people had just lost new buildings; others had houses they have been trying to sell be virtually destroyed. Others lost centuries-old trees and gardens they had been working on for decades. Yet all of them only talked about rebuilding, and those who had come to help them.

I felt a little guilty when we came home at night to publish the photos we had taken that day. After seeing a variety of people face a variety of huge challenges, my life seemed unfairly simple.

I know that many of the people whose job it is to help others after storms like this had to put off taking care of their own properties so they could help the rest of our community.

But for me, the only logistical challenge was how to hold both granddaughters at the same time while trying to feed one of them. My only intellectual challenge was how to find words good enough to honor those who have inspired me by their faith and resilience this week.

Sure, we got a little tired; between the Fair and the storm we worked a few more hours than usual. But we had it unfairly easy, compared to most of you.

At the same time, I think those who suffered really understand that they are lucky. They remember the recent tornadoes in Alabama or Missouri and realize that we have it much easier than those people.

Those who saw the damage have way of exaggerating it.

"It's like a war zone," one caller told WMT-Radio Monday morning.

No, it wasn't.

It was like a zone where really strong winds knocked over trees and damaged buildings.

War zones have holes in cities and families where buildings and people used to be. War zones have places where horrifying weapons have killed many people. War zones have families burying their dead and wondering if they will survive another day.

As bad as the damage was, we can't call it a war zone. Just ask the people in Libya. Or Iraq. Or Afghanistan. Or Israel. Or Sudan. Or Rwanda. Or anywhere in the world there's been war in your lifetime.

It took me all week to remember that I have once been affected by a similar storm. It was the fall of 2001. I had spent the last 18 months working and living in Washington, Iowa, and trying to sell a house 97 miles away in Independence. Sometimes the family would pile into the Suburban and spend the week in the apartment with me. We did this after one weekend, but arrived on a Sunday night to see the ceiling missing from our apartment. The next day, we began moving out, beginning an inconvenient journey that lasted about two months. But the next day Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2001. Life was not exactly fair to lots of people that week; my problems suddenly seemed very small compared to the tragedy we all saw that day.

Someday soon, those of you who spent the week without power, and those of you who have to repair your homes, will be sitting in those repaired homes, watching the news on TV, when you see someone who has it worse than you did. Then you will remember your comparatively easy July of 2011, and say, "Life is not fair -- for those people."

But at the same time, if you fall asleep tonight after pondering what to do next, and wishing the wind had blown some other direction --or not at all -- I don’t blame you one bit.