Chapter 35
At Hilltop High the next morning, the bell rang, indicating a sense of normalcy. But simply peering out the windows at the barren lots where charming, older homes once stood indicated anything but life as usual. Hope trudged toward her office with a raging headache from the head trauma and took two more ibuprofen. She could deal with a headache. After all, she was thrilled she had another day. She powered on her computer but had difficulty concentrating and decided to walk the halls. Many students were tearful or shell shocked. Most hugged and seemed especially considerate.
The teachers’ lounge wasn’t much better. Hope sidled up to get some nasty coffee as teachers milled about, much quieter than usual and obviously still dazed.
Dr. Holmes approached the area and didn’t bother with morning greetings. “How many of you are available after school to help with cleanup?” Every hand shot up. “Good. Hope, I’d like for you and Willow to organize it. That is, if you’re up to it after your injury.”
Hope bobbed her head. “Sure. I’m fine. Happy to help.”
The principal smiled. “I’ll request student, teacher, and staff volunteers over the intercom.” She turned toward Hope and Willow. “I’d like for you to begin right after school.”
Dr. Holmes stepped outside the door but returned. “I know it’ll be hard for the kids to concentrate today. The best thing you can do is reassure them. Have special activities if you want. Let them write about the disaster, talk about it, sit in groups—or whatever it takes to calm them.” She clapped her hands together. “Let’s do our best to get back into a routine. Thank you, faculty. I can always count on you.”
Hope nodded in obvious agreement. “This could give some students who are stuck on their college essay applications some wonderful inspiration for their papers.”
“Great minds.” Willow smiled. “I’m already thinking of art projects they can do with the repurposed material they find.”
“I knew I could count on you two. I’ll also send a press release to the media announcing our effort and asking for community volunteers as well.” With that, the principal got a cup of coffee and left.
Hope turned to Willow. “I’m glad she asked us to head this effort.” Her eyes welled with tears. “It’s my turn to give back.”
Since she had a free hour, Hope decided to work in the teachers’ lounge for companionship. She and Willow worked silently at the huge, rectangular table. It was obvious everyone was attempting to follow Dr. Holmes’ advice of routine. Some faculty members had spread papers out to grade, typed quizzes on their laptops, or chatted. Hope sifted through a dozen of her students’ college applications while Willow viewed her art students’ sketches.
Occasionally, Willow would proudly hold up a drawing to point out a unique detail a student had captured. Likewise, Hope would read touching essays written by some of her at-risk students who dreamed of breaking their family’s cycle of hardship and poverty. Hope’s eyes glistened. “I don’t know how any college could turn these kids down. I’d hate to be a college admissions representative. I’d want to admit them all.”
“I know. We’ve got some great kids at this school.” Willow glanced at the clock as she gathered the artwork. “It’s almost time for class. See you after school.”
~ ~ ~
When the last bell rang, over two hundred students congregated on Hilltop’s front lawn. Hope watched their faces as they observed the disastrous scene across the street. Some saw the devastation for the first time since they had been ushered to the safety of their homes after the tornado hit the previous day. Still grappling with the horrific disaster herself, Hope could only imagine how their young minds were processing the tragedy.
Seeing homes ripped from their foundations, trees uprooted and furniture strewn about, the devastation sank in. Hope could tell by the aghast students’ faces they were nearly in shock. Normally, the kids were focused on homework, the opposite sex, the next dance, or sports. Now they were totally engrossed with the destroyed neighborhood.
Hope peered from side to side. Destruction was everywhere. Many cars were toppled on their sides. Sturdy trees had fallen on top of several of the remaining houses and vehicles that withstood the twister. Some trees blocked entry to driveways. Furniture and appliances were scattered across the grass. Three of the houses across from the school were split into insignificant slabs of lumber, almost like the game of Pick-up Sticks.
Police continued to patrol the area but the rescue vehicles were gone. Unbelievably, no one had died according to the local news. Still, homes were gone. People were injured. Pets were likely missing and the neighborhood was a chaotic mess.
“Where should we start, Miss Truman?” a pimply faced boy asked.
“That’s a very good question.” Hope scanned the area. “Let’s put like items in piles.” She spotted an empty lot next to an old stone church and pointed. “Put the lumber in that corner and shingles over there.” She pointed to a third area. “Tree limbs can be piled here.”
Willow and Larry arrived with several large, clear plastic tubs. Willow cupped her mouth, “Kids, if you find any mementos—pictures, jewelry, stuffed animals, diplomas, awards, anything that looks special—put those items in these containers and close the lid.”
“Those containers are a wonderful idea.” Hope beamed at Willow and the janitor and added, “Students, remember, keepsakes will mean everything to the owners. Take your time while sorting and be careful. Watch for nails. Some of our neighbors have lost their homes. Just let that sink in.” Her voice wobbled. “Let’s try to find even one memento for them. Don’t trash everything too quickly. Look for anything sacred. Things might look wet or crumpled but a high school yearbook, dolls, eyeglasses, even cookbooks that might have special recipes will mean the world to someone.” She motioned to the bins. “Place the collectibles in the clear tubs and we’ll eventually get them to their rightful owners. And thank you.”
Hope picked up several pieces of lumber and added them to a growing pile. She wanted to hug all of the kids then and there and thank them for volunteering but knew she had to stay on task. As she made a third trip to the wood pile, she noticed Britney collecting shards of glass in a bulging, growing tote. “Why are you collecting broken glass?”
Britney focused on the ground. “I have a plan, Miss Truman.”
Hope shrugged and decided not to press. “Be careful or you’ll get cut.”
Britney held up her gloved hands. “Got it covered. I bought these at the Dollar Store last night.”
“Wish I had thought of that,” Hope said. “Keep sorting, kids. You’re making great progress.” A huge pile had already amassed of splintered lumber with nails sticking out. “Hopefully, someone can either repurpose the lumber or use it for firewood this winter. Remember, be careful about anything sharp. We don’t want to have to give out tetanus shots at school.”
A lump formed in Hope’s throat when she discovered the Hilltop coaches had canceled baseball and track practice. The cheerleaders and drum corps were also there. Students who didn’t belong to any organization joined in and now they were all part of something good. One organization. Hope choked back tears as she watched the students work in harmony.
With a long tree branch in her hand, she stopped to observe the scene. Kids were stooped over, sorting and gathering trash. For once, they were focused on the greater good and off their cell phones doing something constructive—in the fresh air, no less. The cliques were gone. The jocks, so-called nerds, social butterflies, and shy types worked side by side and shoulder to shoulder. She had never been more proud to work at Hilltop High. They didn’t teach this in college when I studied counseling. This is organic and beautiful. Humankind at its best. Hope wished the special moment weren’t due to a natural disaster but her heart swelled with pride at the teamwork.
The students worked diligently. One of the Kilties said, “I found someone’s teeth.” The kids laughed but Hope was thrilled. “I’m sure the rightful owner will be very happy to get their dentures back. Let’s wrap those in tissue. I’ll put them in my purse so they don’t get broken.” Hope studied the intact false teeth. It’s amazing how massive trees and homes were obliterated, yet these dentures were spared.
A track star held up a cracked frame containing a wedding photo and a cheerleader found a baby book. Everyone cheered. “See, what I mean. You can’t replace those items. Great job, everyone. Keep looking,” Hope said.
A uniformed student combed through rubble and discovered a class ring and a military purple heart, which literally made Hope shiver. “How wonderful. Great job.” The Hilltop baseball player who unearthed the precious items held them in the air, obviously proud of his findings. Everyone stopped to applaud.
Hope reached for the special items. “I’m going to my car to place those objects and the teeth in my purse right now. I’ll be right back.”
As she walked away, she smiled when she heard Britney shout, “Keep looking, everyone.” For once the student was part of something bigger than her insignificant world with her neglectful mother. When Hope returned to the group, she already thought Britney stood a little taller as she worked alongside students who often ignored her.
In addition to cleanup, students were obviously on a mission to find even more cherished mementos. They shouted and cheered each time they discovered a neighbor’s treasure. A football player found bronze baby shoes and several sheets of someone’s medical records.
“Those papers need to be saved.” Willow pointed toward a cardboard box. “Put the papers in there for safekeeping.”
Hope stared in delighted respect. The students had amazingly left their phones alone. Not one person stared at a screen. Through the tragedy, Hope discovered a priceless moment of goodwill that she’d never forget. She couldn’t wait to tell Alex and Suzy.