On Friday, March 24, a tornado hit the Delta region in Mississippi, killing 23 residents and leveling a majority of the small town of Rolling Fork to rubble.  This may not seem like local news, and yet as a reporter I would feel remiss if I did not comment.  My sister, Therese Apel, has been a journalist in Mississippi for over 30 years, and has covered an incredible amount of tragedy.  We grew up there, in a small town south of Jackson, and she has covered hundreds of natural disasters in the decades since.  From the scene of what was once the town square in Rolling Fork, she said through tears, “ Imagine it..overnight, your whole town gone. Everything's gone.”  Walking  through the town's remains, she wrote, “The devastation is palpable as people try to find what the storms haven't taken of their lives and homes.”

I believe it is important that we occasionally stop and bear witness to tragedies like this, because the old adage rings true:  “There, but for the grace of God, go we.”  Many of us live in small towns not unlike Rolling Fork, where our residents and business owners and local officials pour their lives into creating a functional and safe environment, with some splashes of joy and beauty mixed in.  It has been said that a town is only as good as its response to crisis, and perhaps the most uplifting part of this heavy story is in seeing a community come together in the face of such  loss.  While the news often seems overwhelming in these cases–towns decimated by wars, floods, earthquakes, hurricanes–there is still light that shines through.  Reports of hope are pouring out of the Delta, stories that show inexplicable strength in what a group of people can do together.  Mississippi Gov. Tate Reeves said, “It's been my experience in times like this that there is no such thing as politics.” In the town of Rolling Fork, where few government buildings even remain intact, that has certainly been the case.  There are no teams or sides. There is simply a community, holding each other up. 

Reflecting on these stories brings a new sense of gratitude.  Out my window, things here are running smoothly. The kids are out for Spring Break, the farmers are in the field, the sun is shining.  Our water and power are on, we see three people we know at the local diner for breakfast, we chat with some neighbors about the weather.  These are the reasons why we fight for our small towns, and come back to them in some capacity for much of our lives.  And why our hearts break for those who've just lost this–the good, the bad, and the beautiful– in the blink of an eye.  

So what can we do from here in Indiana?  If you are a praying person, save some prayers for the Delta as they attempt to recover. The road ahead for them is daunting. If you'd like to donate, there are dozens of outreaches in place, The Red Cross has a good list online.  If you'd like to see more coverage, scan the QR code to watch Therese Apel's work from the scene.  And if you get a chance, look around at the people and places you see everyday, and lift a prayer of thanks to see them still standing.