the sounds of saws/the guns of nails

Fourth blog post on the aftereffects of the April 27, 2011 tornado

Written June 18, 2011

David C. Kopaska-Merkel

Upstairs I hear a thump every time one of the contractors drops a piece of wood on the floor of the attic. So far, nothing has come through. This is, I think, the third day they have been working up there. They would have made more progress, but one of their closest friends was shot in a fight over a woman last week. He is recovering. The incident sounds odd. People probably do this kind of thing more often now than they did when I was young, but I'm not in the game of fighting over mates. Never was really. It never seemed like a good idea. But anyway, when you come to Tuscaloosa, stay away from the gangster molls. If you can tell who they are before it is too late.

Still waiting for the check from the insurance company to be sent back to us, somewhat diminished, by the mortgage company. If we don't get it in a few days I'll have to call them, although I strongly suspect they are just being slow. No incentive for them to be prompt.

Today some people came by and tried to saw up what was left of the big oak tree. They would have had an easier time of it if they had had a longer chainsaw or a bigger truck. Still, the mighty beast is much diminished from its former state. Also, a gentleman came by a few days ago and asked if he could saw part of it off to make the top of a round table. He wanted to preserve something from the large trees in the city that were blown down by the tornado. Of course we said yes and he came back and cut himself at least one giant wooden disk. He left the results of two failed attempts and we squirreled them away. We might be able to use them, perhaps as tabletops.

As time goes by more and more of the roadside debris is removed. More and more unrepairable buildings are demolished and hauled away. The land looks more and more bare and the drought deepens. If we do get a torrential downpour the dry soil, unrestrained by the roots of trees, will head south in a brown slurry.