The tank?

  That year was hairpin turn on the road to getting politically settled.  And like every year all of life was/is ongoing.  In some ways before people do things wrong or incorrectly or not as best as we might there's a lot of build up and a co-measurate "abundance of caution" so for people entrenched in life-saving and safety-tending there's ready for anything.  There was also a lot of proving going on.

  Between proving ourselves worthy of investment, proving we had done the work--even in a largely chaotic to form environment, proving I'm NOT him, proving potential, proving self to self, proving I CAN...and fighting poverty, storm damage, a  falling short of the myth of things (like we're "great") us individuals were being torn apart.  Torn apart wasn't helping anything.  It compounded hungry, sick, and tired!

  I guess it was time and God that unfurled as Old Glory or unfurled us all, from immigrant to soldier, as a living Old Glory because as we made way through each day and night the chaotic feelings and acts per impossible cleared.  Lists, missions, objectives, some sorting of tasks to talent and duty...and people explaining why.

  Still for all the facts clarifying there were versions.  And there was something else, harder to name but why we came up with "hometown hero".  The National Guard was on the move--even before anybody could/would say so.  How do you know? I asked a guy I trusted because he's also a realist, especially on a rollercoaster of optimism/pessimism.  He and I were making a generator gas run.  All along the roads there were T'see tree markers of where a National Guard person had forged way and made it to mustered.  While he was showing me something evidentiary, and the facts of things getting better were matching up to all of us making things better, I saw those pieces of tree like poetry or music, or something so much more profound than just storm-destroyed tree.

  It had taken some time.  And every person who came as one person had a tale involving sometimes a lot of others, identifiable and unknown, all kinds of people.  No ordinary communications possible.  At camp people were able to restore somewhat--sleep, a little bit of food, maybe some water.  Internationals, non-Guard citizens, soldiers in other branches of the Armed Forces and other armies of the world...all proving resiliance and moving forward despite trashed finances, ruined homes, hadn't been sures about direction...moving into the next day and the next day.  Moving in grief and shock and uncertainty by being selves and those selves aligning with others (and keeping to self) to achieve.  Little things, big things....

  Like getting that tank to its mountain resting spot.  Like showing a person with extreme political views "where the turkies walk" so the person wouldn't get hurt by people with different extreme political views--a sort of back door for safety's sake.  Like moving a field hospital halfway round the world.  Like mitigating: I won't take that person's chainsaw, family guy, even though I could.  A grandmother eating for the first time in ten days.  Letting someone borrow a fishing pole and not belittling in asking, You do know how to use this particular kind?

  We were part of a Tennessee spirit forged by people part of State and Country.  As other state Americans we were impressed.  Some of the visiting foreigners and in-process im/migrants were blown away impressed.  No better diplomacy than being part of function!