Susanna J. Sturgis   Martha's Vineyard writer and editor
writer editor born-again horse girl

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The Whole World Is Watching

August 29, 2005

This past winter Martha's Vineyard had more snow than usual -- way more snow than usual. On the memorable third weekend in January, we got something like two and a half feet in a twenty-four-hour period. Islanders in their sixties and seventies and even eighties swore they'd never seen anything like it. The schools were closed for a week. Still, we shoveled each other out, and laughed at the SUV drivers who ventured out when only emergency vehicles were supposed to be on the roads and got themselves royally stuck.

What surprised me were the several e-mails I got from online acquaintances in Arizona and Texas and even Ohio and Ontario, places not unfamiliar with snow: Are you all right? Let us know that you're OK.

Why would I not be OK? True, I'm hale and hearty and pretty handy with a shovel, so maybe they thought I'd be one of those "Woman, 53, Dies Shoveling Out Fire Hydrant" statistics. After I came in from shoveling and helping look after three horses, I went online to browse the news coverage of our blizzard. Well, no wonder: between the photos of smashed boats and upended cars and half-buried houses and dour emergency workers sipping coffee through probably frostbitten fingers, I got the impression that everyone in the region was trapped in their house without heat and running water, that the heart attack rate had quintupled overnight, and no one down those long dirt roads could get anywhere near a hospital.

In the last 24 hours I've been listening to people go similarly ballistic about Hurricane Katrina. These people must be glued to their TVs  and their online news sources and probably the Weather Channel and the NOAA website, even though most of them have only the most peripheral connection with anyone in New Orleans or anywhere else on the Gulf Coast. Under these circumstances "peripheral" is good enough: we'll obsess about George's well-being even if we haven't thought much about George in the last three years. This morning's online Washington Post story on the subject led off with "This could be the storm that everyone feared." Oh please. I guess "Katrina might still turn out to be the fizzle of the decade" didn't have the same panache.

Call it a night, y'all. Take three Serenity Prayers and e-mail me in the morning. I wish you the serenity to accept the things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Hurricanes tend to fall into the first category, and even if your ex-girlfriend's brother's college roommate was planning to fly into New Orleans last night, your frantic phone calls aren't going to keep him safe. Maybe there's someone up the street from you who could use a hand?

 

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