I recently arrived in Greensburg, KS, where an EF5 tornado destroyed a whole community just three nights ago. What am I doing here? I will try to explain.
For the past few years I have worked on government-funded projects to clean up after hurricanes, which is a process that usually begins about 2 months after a storm strike. Usually over a 4-8 week period the federal and local governments work together to assess the damage, release funding and hire contractors like me to come in to clean up the mess.
Yet when I would arrive 2 months later and see the mess and destruction that remain, I could not help but wonder what it may have been like for those communities when the storm first hit. What would I have found had I arrived on the first day, the first night? What chaos, confusion and despair must there have been? What help could I have been then?
At some point we have all turned on the news and have seen graphic aerial photos and videos taken from helicopters of communities devastated by natural disasters. I recall a few vivid scenes of people like little ants rummaging through what is left of their community and trying to find friends, family and neighbors that may still be alive. I also recall scenes of people on roofs, waiving their hands, waiting for someone to come get them because floodwaters have taken over their homes. Who helps these people in these desperate times of need?
When a tornado is so powerful that it takes homes, tractor-trailers and commercial buildings and throws them through the air and drops them on roadways…who moves that debris? How do the fire trucks and ambulances get through? How are the people in need of rescuing reached? If the whole town is destroyed including all the equipment in the local municipality, what do they do to simply open up roads?
I did not know the answer to these questions, and I had no one to ask…so I decided to find out for myself-which is why I am here in the small town of Greensburg, KS, writing this blog from my truck.
Two nights ago I arrived about 50 miles outside of Greensburg. I had been driving for about 20 hours at that point and was on the lookout for diesel fuel. I figured there would be no fuel available in Greensburg since the reports I was hearing said the town no longer existed.
It was about 3 am when I saw in the distance a small country gas station with one fuel pump. I pulled up slowly in the darkness as my large black crane truck with flashing emergency lights dwarfed this small country service station. I began to fuel up the tanks with diesel when out of the corner of my eye I saw a man standing alone in the dark cool night…watching me. When I finished fueling and began to walk in toward the office to pay the man began to walk toward me. As he got closer I realized he was a bit beat up looking and wearing raggedy clothes. Without hesitation he said to me, “Are you going to Greensburg? My daughters, I have three but one is missing. Her name is Jessica, she is a veterinarian, she is about 5’6” and if you see her could you tell her that her dad is looking for her?”
I felt like I was in a dream. I slowly walked pass the man as our eyes connected and all I could say was, “Yes, if I see her I will let her know.” It was one of those moments where you thought more should be said, but I just did not know what to say.
I paid for my fuel, got back in my rig and headed on down the road toward Greensburg. About 20 miles up the unlit country roads I saw a sign for a hospital. I maneuvered my way into the hospital parking lot, parked and walked into the E.R. A nurse stopped to ask if I needed help, and I explained I was there trying to find out some information about what is happening in Greensburg. She called in a local police officer to talk to me.
We shook hands, and I explained I was here with this large Prentice crane truck equipped with a specialized hydraulic crane head that could help open up roads. He explained that they were not allowing anyone in Greensburg at the time and that every road was barricaded off. He said that was all he knew, and he wished me luck. I decided to get back in the truck and continue into Greensburg until I hit the first roadblock.
Sure enough a few miles up the road I pulled up to a fireman who was standing in the middle of the road. As I rolled up I shut down my engine and rolled down my window. I could see he was dirty and had most likely not slept since the storm hit. Before I could say anything, he picked up his walkie-talkie and said, “Hey chief, Disaster Recovery Solutions is here” as he read the name of my company off the door of the truck. A voice came back over the radio saying, “Who the hell is Disaster Recovery Solutions?” The fireman responded, “I don’t know boss but you better get out here and look at this truck. This guy might be able to help us.”
I was instructed to pull over to the side of the road and wait till the man in charge could come out to meet me. As the sun began to rise I saw what I had never had the opportunity to see before - a community that had just experience the wrath of Mother Nature. I was able to see in front of me what was left of this small country town. It literally looked like a bomb hit. As far as I could see, everything was virtually leveled and whatever was still standing was beyond repair.
Moments later a small beat up truck pulled up. The man who stepped out of the vehicle introduced himself as Doyle Conrad, public works director of Greensburg. I explained to Doyle that I was there to help and wanted to open up roads free of charge. He was a bit nervous after seeing the big crane truck and wondered if I was telling the truth and if I was really was there to help for free. He explained he needed help clearing a path to the firehouse so that the fireman could get whatever was left in the firehouse. I agreed to do whatever he needed. He asked if I would sign a piece of paper promising I would not charge him anything. We walked over to his truck and – on the hood of that truck – I wrote on a crumbled up piece of paper that I would not charge him. We shook hands, he pointed toward the direction where the firehouse used to be and wished me luck.
I could not believe what I saw that morning. Fully loaded tractor trailers blown from across town blocking roads; huge 70-foot steel I-beams intertwined with building debris, blocking intersections. All I could do was use the crane to drag things to the side of the road. I began to take notes on other equipment that I would need to add to my fleet next time I responded to a disaster, such as torches and plasma cutters.
Just a few short hours later I cleared the debris leading up to the bumper of the fire trucks. Concrete I-beams weighing thousands of pounds pinned both of the trucks down. The firehouse and trucks were destroyed and beyond repair. The fire chief was standing by as I made my last dig with the crane. The firemen were able to access their destroyed trucks and recover important tools and equipment they would need to help their devastated town.
I was so distracted at the task at hand that I did not have time to look around me and take it all in…until a woman walking through the rubble right in front of me collapsed. Two others walking nearby came to her aid and as I sat there atop my crane looking down at this woman, then looking at the devastating destruction as far as I could see…I realized I was no longer going to use my equipment to come in two months after a disaster to make money. Instead I was going to use my equipment to respond to disasters on day one and through those first few critical days and weeks until help arrives.
I began to realize at that point that many small community resources are probably insufficient to deal with a large scope disaster. And when a storm does strike, whatever resources communities have to help themselves will also be destroyed.
And who is going to come help these people with specialized expensive equipment? There is no money to be made here. There is no customer for this type of help and work. In fact, before any money is to be released to contractors to help these communities, federal and local governments need to make assessments, which usually takes 4-8 weeks. Personally, I understand the process. Before millions of dollars are released to help communities, assessments should be done so taxpayers dollars are spent appropriately.
For the past few years I have worked on government-funded projects to clean up after hurricanes, which is a process that usually begins about 2 months after a storm strike. Usually over a 4-8 week period the federal and local governments work together to assess the damage, release funding and hire contractors like me to come in to clean up the mess.
Yet when I would arrive 2 months later and see the mess and destruction that remain, I could not help but wonder what it may have been like for those communities when the storm first hit. What would I have found had I arrived on the first day, the first night? What chaos, confusion and despair must there have been? What help could I have been then?
At some point we have all turned on the news and have seen graphic aerial photos and videos taken from helicopters of communities devastated by natural disasters. I recall a few vivid scenes of people like little ants rummaging through what is left of their community and trying to find friends, family and neighbors that may still be alive. I also recall scenes of people on roofs, waiving their hands, waiting for someone to come get them because floodwaters have taken over their homes. Who helps these people in these desperate times of need?
When a tornado is so powerful that it takes homes, tractor-trailers and commercial buildings and throws them through the air and drops them on roadways…who moves that debris? How do the fire trucks and ambulances get through? How are the people in need of rescuing reached? If the whole town is destroyed including all the equipment in the local municipality, what do they do to simply open up roads?
I did not know the answer to these questions, and I had no one to ask…so I decided to find out for myself-which is why I am here in the small town of Greensburg, KS, writing this blog from my truck.
Two nights ago I arrived about 50 miles outside of Greensburg. I had been driving for about 20 hours at that point and was on the lookout for diesel fuel. I figured there would be no fuel available in Greensburg since the reports I was hearing said the town no longer existed.
It was about 3 am when I saw in the distance a small country gas station with one fuel pump. I pulled up slowly in the darkness as my large black crane truck with flashing emergency lights dwarfed this small country service station. I began to fuel up the tanks with diesel when out of the corner of my eye I saw a man standing alone in the dark cool night…watching me. When I finished fueling and began to walk in toward the office to pay the man began to walk toward me. As he got closer I realized he was a bit beat up looking and wearing raggedy clothes. Without hesitation he said to me, “Are you going to Greensburg? My daughters, I have three but one is missing. Her name is Jessica, she is a veterinarian, she is about 5’6” and if you see her could you tell her that her dad is looking for her?”
I felt like I was in a dream. I slowly walked pass the man as our eyes connected and all I could say was, “Yes, if I see her I will let her know.” It was one of those moments where you thought more should be said, but I just did not know what to say.
I paid for my fuel, got back in my rig and headed on down the road toward Greensburg. About 20 miles up the unlit country roads I saw a sign for a hospital. I maneuvered my way into the hospital parking lot, parked and walked into the E.R. A nurse stopped to ask if I needed help, and I explained I was there trying to find out some information about what is happening in Greensburg. She called in a local police officer to talk to me.
We shook hands, and I explained I was here with this large Prentice crane truck equipped with a specialized hydraulic crane head that could help open up roads. He explained that they were not allowing anyone in Greensburg at the time and that every road was barricaded off. He said that was all he knew, and he wished me luck. I decided to get back in the truck and continue into Greensburg until I hit the first roadblock.
Sure enough a few miles up the road I pulled up to a fireman who was standing in the middle of the road. As I rolled up I shut down my engine and rolled down my window. I could see he was dirty and had most likely not slept since the storm hit. Before I could say anything, he picked up his walkie-talkie and said, “Hey chief, Disaster Recovery Solutions is here” as he read the name of my company off the door of the truck. A voice came back over the radio saying, “Who the hell is Disaster Recovery Solutions?” The fireman responded, “I don’t know boss but you better get out here and look at this truck. This guy might be able to help us.”
I was instructed to pull over to the side of the road and wait till the man in charge could come out to meet me. As the sun began to rise I saw what I had never had the opportunity to see before - a community that had just experience the wrath of Mother Nature. I was able to see in front of me what was left of this small country town. It literally looked like a bomb hit. As far as I could see, everything was virtually leveled and whatever was still standing was beyond repair.
Moments later a small beat up truck pulled up. The man who stepped out of the vehicle introduced himself as Doyle Conrad, public works director of Greensburg. I explained to Doyle that I was there to help and wanted to open up roads free of charge. He was a bit nervous after seeing the big crane truck and wondered if I was telling the truth and if I was really was there to help for free. He explained he needed help clearing a path to the firehouse so that the fireman could get whatever was left in the firehouse. I agreed to do whatever he needed. He asked if I would sign a piece of paper promising I would not charge him anything. We walked over to his truck and – on the hood of that truck – I wrote on a crumbled up piece of paper that I would not charge him. We shook hands, he pointed toward the direction where the firehouse used to be and wished me luck.
I could not believe what I saw that morning. Fully loaded tractor trailers blown from across town blocking roads; huge 70-foot steel I-beams intertwined with building debris, blocking intersections. All I could do was use the crane to drag things to the side of the road. I began to take notes on other equipment that I would need to add to my fleet next time I responded to a disaster, such as torches and plasma cutters.
Just a few short hours later I cleared the debris leading up to the bumper of the fire trucks. Concrete I-beams weighing thousands of pounds pinned both of the trucks down. The firehouse and trucks were destroyed and beyond repair. The fire chief was standing by as I made my last dig with the crane. The firemen were able to access their destroyed trucks and recover important tools and equipment they would need to help their devastated town.
I was so distracted at the task at hand that I did not have time to look around me and take it all in…until a woman walking through the rubble right in front of me collapsed. Two others walking nearby came to her aid and as I sat there atop my crane looking down at this woman, then looking at the devastating destruction as far as I could see…I realized I was no longer going to use my equipment to come in two months after a disaster to make money. Instead I was going to use my equipment to respond to disasters on day one and through those first few critical days and weeks until help arrives.
I began to realize at that point that many small community resources are probably insufficient to deal with a large scope disaster. And when a storm does strike, whatever resources communities have to help themselves will also be destroyed.
And who is going to come help these people with specialized expensive equipment? There is no money to be made here. There is no customer for this type of help and work. In fact, before any money is to be released to contractors to help these communities, federal and local governments need to make assessments, which usually takes 4-8 weeks. Personally, I understand the process. Before millions of dollars are released to help communities, assessments should be done so taxpayers dollars are spent appropriately.
Nevertheless, something needs to be done about this. Equipment is needed on day one and from the looks of this disaster, I have a feeling more than just a crane truck is needed.
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