"I know now they will be fine..."

Our last day on the ground. Maureen and I finish up at the school district; they are grateful for our help. Their Accounts Payable had been on pieces of paper and they now have a full general ledger; not as exciting as getting the power turned on, but helpful nevertheless. The fellas along with Terry and Megan were able to finish up Rhonda's house, wire Pamelas house, and work their way through several tons of downed trees for an 86 year old farmer. Very satisfying work. Last night, seven tornado victors (the term they prefer to victims) met with us and told their stories. Downed power lines, no communication, barriers to getting around. From Melynn, in the ER that night,"I don't know what a war zone is like, but that's the only way I can describe it." They all talk of anxious hours trying to find each other. They re-iterate and add butterfly stories. Cathy's nephew said his daughter told him she saw butterlies help him hold the bathroom door shut where they took shelter, and it was the only room left standing. Another story of a 4 year old found several miles away in a field, unharmed, telling rescuers an angel picked him up and carried him there. Goosebumps abound. They end by telling us of their gratefulness for volunteers, and tell us they are worried for our fires. It is very helpful to hear first hand. We ended our work with a picnic at Cunningham park, designed as a tribute to volunteers. Then on to Big Brutus, the largest electric shovel in North America. Largest anything makes these guys happy, but they crawl all over the bucket -- capable of holding six cars-- and sit in the drivers seat for pictures. Will load final set of pics from home. Six a.m. Departure, headed to smoky Denver and our own disasters. Last time we were still stunned as we left; this time is different. There has been so much improvement, we know they will not need us again. They will be fine, and we were part of it. Stay tuned.