First Robert
Mueller stole the TV channels in the morning and delivered his final comments on
his special investigator’s report. His nine-minute recitation, read from a
script, confirmed what I thought. This is a man who shuns the public spotlight and
adheres to the letter of the law. I’m sure we’ll be hearing pro and con and
many interpretations of what he said for days to come. I think it was an
important moment in our history, and I agree with him that all Americans should
pay attention.
Then, in Fort
Worth/Dallas, there was a police chase, with every minute recorded by overhead
cameras. Inevitably, the escape car slowed, stopped, and two men of color got
out and threw themselves flat on the ground. They knew their lives were in
danger. I wanted to yell at them, “How did you ever think you were going to
outrun the cops?” but I suppose none of us have none the desperation they must
have been feeling. It’s a sad time in America when, even momentarily, your
sympathies as an impartial bystander, are with the objects of the chase. Although
I don’t know what they did, I have a vague notion it was robbery and was not
something heinous like murder. And I knew that as men of color, they knew one
slightly wrong move could earn them not one but several bullets. I watched carefully,
from my helicopter/TV vantage point, but didn’t see any police brutality Tonight
it strikes me that we as spectators get so caught up in that story—and then we
never hear another word about it.
And then came the
storm warnings. We’d known all morning that severe storms were expected in the
early afternoon, but about one o’clock the sky darkened, and the TV was filled
with tornado warning advisories, which means a funnel cloud has been sighted.
Forecaster were saying ominously, “Take shelter now Go to the lowest safe room in
the house” I often beat my chest like a warrior woman and declare how much I
love Texas storms—but today made me nervous The dark sky, what looked like a
shelf cloud. Then my TV wouldn’t turn on—too many stations in use. AT&T has
this ridiculous rule about how many TVs can be one at any given property. I
knew just what had happened—Jordan had it on in every room in the house so she
could keep up no matter where she wandered.
She finally came
out and asked if I didn’t want to come into the house—probably a bit more
secure. We laughed about the evening, several years ago, that Jacob set up the closet
with a chair, a blanket, a glass of wine, and a book—and then insisted that was
where I was to go. Today we decided either the closet or the bathroom, though I
think the bathroom is a cliché and still remember one tornado where a mom and
her two daughters were found dead in the bathtub where they’d taken shelter.
After about twenty
minutes as I stared at the weather news, it was apparent the rotation was
northwest of us, and I decided to come back to the cottage. Which meant we had
to take back the flashlight and iPad and phone and other supplies we’d taken
into the house. What we got was a good heavy rain but no lightning, no hail,
very little thunder I suppose sometime our luck might run out, but it held today.
As I hear and read
about the floods in Oklahoma, I have a funny image in my mind. Christian and I
had a discussion about the direction of river flow. Simplistically, I maintain
that rivers flow from north to south—thinking of the Mississippi and Missouri
rivers. But he thought the local Trinity River was high because they opened
Benbrook dam—which is south of the river. Made no sense to me. But if water
flows north to south, I have this vision of Oklahoma sending sheets of water,
unbounded by river patterns, down on Texas. I truly grieve for that state where
every county has been declared a disaster area. I don’t know which is worse—the
destruction of a tornado or the slime and filth and contamination of a flood.
And both kill people. I truly hope the administration stops its war on science
and climate change and pays attention to what is happening to our world.
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