Home again
Good morning.
This is Garth coming to you. I'd like to thank all of you who e-mailed your concerns for me while I've been away. As I look back on these past few months during which the hurricanes ravaged the southern states and left such devastation in their wakes, I am in awe of the resilience of Human Kind. Seeing the physical damage wrought, first hand, was enough to take this Immortal to his knees. But as I worked among those who lost everything they possessed; watched them refuse to give up, I have to tell you I gained a new respect for people of all walks of life.
I wish to tell you about a particular scenario that is forever burned into my brain. The night after Katrina struck New Orleans, I came upon a young man who was scouring the dark streets, looking for his family. He was soaked to the bone, dirty and unkempt, such that one might have taken him for a street person. From the shadows I watched him progress through an area hard hit; literally,not fit for man nor beast. In the hoarse voice calling out their names, over and over, I heard his deep anguish and fear. I followed him for the better part of two hours; until his voice finally gave out, and he could do no more than croak. He left nothing to chance, overturning debris; forcing his way through dangerously damaged buildings; wandering on and on.
As torrents of rain and wind buffeted him, often threw him down, or tossed him against buildings, I wondered how much more he could take before he was failed by flying debris. But he kept going, head bowed against the elements, searching and searching. Along and along his anguish turned to despair and even as his proud carriage deserted him and his shoulders slumped, he kept on looking. It was at that point that I knew he would go until he could go no more. I stepped out in front of him and when he spotted me, the look on his face nearly failed me. But it was what he said that drove into my heart. With tears streaming down his face he croaked in a broken voice, "Mister, please...help me. I can't find my wife and my little girl. I have to find them before..." He couldn't speak another intelligible word and he fell to his knees and silently wept in despair.
I helped him up and led him away to a building that was reasonably sturdy and there in his raspy, broken voice he told me his story. He'd been working out of state when the news broke that the storm was set to hit New Orleans. He left immediately for home, and while miles and miles of vehicles were streaming out of the state, he was heading into it where his wife and child were waiting until he could get to them. He was within a hundred miles or so of New Orleans when he lost cell phone contact with his wife. The closer he got, he discovered the way into the city had been barricaded. He abandoned his vehicle and continued on foot; dodging roadblocks and hiding from law enforcement agents who he knew would force him to turn back. He made it into the city proper, barely an hour before the hurricane bore down on it. And it was there, in the eye of the hurricane, that he holed-up in an alleyway near Jackson Square.
All through the roaring storm he prayed and prayed that his wife and daughter had found shelter before the storm struck. With no concern for himself, he waited it out; miraculously, managing to stay alive. When the worst was over he began trying to make his way through the French Quarter to his destination. Again, he was forced to hide from law-enforcement, as well as the mongrels with guns and knives who haunted the abandoned city. He ignored the looting and shouting and pressed on though he never made it to where his family was to have waited for him. By nightfall, he knew if they'd remained where he told them to be, they were likely dead. And so he began scouring the dark streets on the off-chance that they'd headed into downtown New Orleans. And that was when I found him.
Like him, I feared they'd perished, for I'd already been where they were supposed to be, and I knew no small woman and child could have survived the devastation that was left behind. But as he would not give up his search, my heart wouldn't allow me to walk away and not help him. And so we searched and searched and then, as dawn approached I found myself in a quandary. I had to leave him on his own or tell him who I was and take him with me. Rather than add to his misery, I made the choice to render him incapable of going on, for I knew there was the possibility that he would drown or come to other harm before I could return.
When the next night fell, he awoke in the upstairs room of an abandoned home. He sat up in bed and a strange look came over his face as he tried to figure out how he'd gotten there and why he'd abandoned his search. He looked at me and I knew I had to answer the questions in his eyes. I provided him with a meal and as he ate, I revealed myself to him. Instead of the shock and disbelief I expected from him, he squared his shoulders and stood up and demanded that I prove myself. While I'd never answered to any such demand, I knew we could move faster and search more thoroughly for his family if we weren't forced to stay afoot. And so I did; disappeared and reappeared then levitated near the ceiling. Again, I witnessed no shock and disbelief but awe and wonder. As he collapsed in his chair, with no thought that he might be in danger, he got excited. In his raspy voice he roundly chastised me for not telling him sooner so that we could have made use of my abilities the previous night. I had to laugh at that and then I left him to go feed, while he finished his meal.
When I returned some few moments later, he was ready to begin the search, anew. And so we did. Through wind and rain, I used my Immortal skills to carry us where we needed to go and used my strength to move debris and such. I kept us invisible as we searched the shelters that housed the thousands of people packed into them. Another two nights passed and he began to lose hope but still, we searched. On the third night we had but one avenue left to us to exhaust. His heart was both broken and overjoyed, simultaneously, for in the flooded ruins of his own home we found them. His five year old daughter was clinging to the hand of his dead wife; both floating among the debris.
If I live to another thousand years I will never understand how that little girl managed to stay afloat all that time. Neither will I understand the full impact of the sorrow and joy my friend experienced. He'd lost his childhood sweetheart but found the gift she'd left behind for him. I'm not ashamed to say I broke down and wept with him for his loss and his find. It was most difficult for him to come to terms with having to abandon his wife's body in order to take his child out of there but he did.
I took them out of there, placed them in Texas with some friends of mine, and went back to retrieve his wife's body for a proper burial. You can't imagine how difficult it was to return and have to tell him that his house was gone and I didn't find her. And as if he hadn't suffered enough, he and his daughter had to flee Texas when hurricane Rita began blowing in. But I'm happy to say that both father and daughter are physically well and while it will take time for them to get over their loss, they now reside within the safety of my circle of trusted friends and allies. He has chosen to raise his child among us and we are all happy to have them. Along and along, when she is old enough to understand, he has our permission to tell his daughter about us. I believe the Fates drew us together and meant them to become part of our circle. I am in awe of the little blonde haired cherub who calls me Uncle Garth and the man with courage of steel, who allows me to hold her, without fear for her safety.
At this writing, I have to constantly wrestle Roman for her time and affection for he, too, has lost his heart to our little cherub. Yep, even big, bad Vampyres can fall in love. Garth.
This is Garth coming to you. I'd like to thank all of you who e-mailed your concerns for me while I've been away. As I look back on these past few months during which the hurricanes ravaged the southern states and left such devastation in their wakes, I am in awe of the resilience of Human Kind. Seeing the physical damage wrought, first hand, was enough to take this Immortal to his knees. But as I worked among those who lost everything they possessed; watched them refuse to give up, I have to tell you I gained a new respect for people of all walks of life.
I wish to tell you about a particular scenario that is forever burned into my brain. The night after Katrina struck New Orleans, I came upon a young man who was scouring the dark streets, looking for his family. He was soaked to the bone, dirty and unkempt, such that one might have taken him for a street person. From the shadows I watched him progress through an area hard hit; literally,not fit for man nor beast. In the hoarse voice calling out their names, over and over, I heard his deep anguish and fear. I followed him for the better part of two hours; until his voice finally gave out, and he could do no more than croak. He left nothing to chance, overturning debris; forcing his way through dangerously damaged buildings; wandering on and on.
As torrents of rain and wind buffeted him, often threw him down, or tossed him against buildings, I wondered how much more he could take before he was failed by flying debris. But he kept going, head bowed against the elements, searching and searching. Along and along his anguish turned to despair and even as his proud carriage deserted him and his shoulders slumped, he kept on looking. It was at that point that I knew he would go until he could go no more. I stepped out in front of him and when he spotted me, the look on his face nearly failed me. But it was what he said that drove into my heart. With tears streaming down his face he croaked in a broken voice, "Mister, please...help me. I can't find my wife and my little girl. I have to find them before..." He couldn't speak another intelligible word and he fell to his knees and silently wept in despair.
I helped him up and led him away to a building that was reasonably sturdy and there in his raspy, broken voice he told me his story. He'd been working out of state when the news broke that the storm was set to hit New Orleans. He left immediately for home, and while miles and miles of vehicles were streaming out of the state, he was heading into it where his wife and child were waiting until he could get to them. He was within a hundred miles or so of New Orleans when he lost cell phone contact with his wife. The closer he got, he discovered the way into the city had been barricaded. He abandoned his vehicle and continued on foot; dodging roadblocks and hiding from law enforcement agents who he knew would force him to turn back. He made it into the city proper, barely an hour before the hurricane bore down on it. And it was there, in the eye of the hurricane, that he holed-up in an alleyway near Jackson Square.
All through the roaring storm he prayed and prayed that his wife and daughter had found shelter before the storm struck. With no concern for himself, he waited it out; miraculously, managing to stay alive. When the worst was over he began trying to make his way through the French Quarter to his destination. Again, he was forced to hide from law-enforcement, as well as the mongrels with guns and knives who haunted the abandoned city. He ignored the looting and shouting and pressed on though he never made it to where his family was to have waited for him. By nightfall, he knew if they'd remained where he told them to be, they were likely dead. And so he began scouring the dark streets on the off-chance that they'd headed into downtown New Orleans. And that was when I found him.
Like him, I feared they'd perished, for I'd already been where they were supposed to be, and I knew no small woman and child could have survived the devastation that was left behind. But as he would not give up his search, my heart wouldn't allow me to walk away and not help him. And so we searched and searched and then, as dawn approached I found myself in a quandary. I had to leave him on his own or tell him who I was and take him with me. Rather than add to his misery, I made the choice to render him incapable of going on, for I knew there was the possibility that he would drown or come to other harm before I could return.
When the next night fell, he awoke in the upstairs room of an abandoned home. He sat up in bed and a strange look came over his face as he tried to figure out how he'd gotten there and why he'd abandoned his search. He looked at me and I knew I had to answer the questions in his eyes. I provided him with a meal and as he ate, I revealed myself to him. Instead of the shock and disbelief I expected from him, he squared his shoulders and stood up and demanded that I prove myself. While I'd never answered to any such demand, I knew we could move faster and search more thoroughly for his family if we weren't forced to stay afoot. And so I did; disappeared and reappeared then levitated near the ceiling. Again, I witnessed no shock and disbelief but awe and wonder. As he collapsed in his chair, with no thought that he might be in danger, he got excited. In his raspy voice he roundly chastised me for not telling him sooner so that we could have made use of my abilities the previous night. I had to laugh at that and then I left him to go feed, while he finished his meal.
When I returned some few moments later, he was ready to begin the search, anew. And so we did. Through wind and rain, I used my Immortal skills to carry us where we needed to go and used my strength to move debris and such. I kept us invisible as we searched the shelters that housed the thousands of people packed into them. Another two nights passed and he began to lose hope but still, we searched. On the third night we had but one avenue left to us to exhaust. His heart was both broken and overjoyed, simultaneously, for in the flooded ruins of his own home we found them. His five year old daughter was clinging to the hand of his dead wife; both floating among the debris.
If I live to another thousand years I will never understand how that little girl managed to stay afloat all that time. Neither will I understand the full impact of the sorrow and joy my friend experienced. He'd lost his childhood sweetheart but found the gift she'd left behind for him. I'm not ashamed to say I broke down and wept with him for his loss and his find. It was most difficult for him to come to terms with having to abandon his wife's body in order to take his child out of there but he did.
I took them out of there, placed them in Texas with some friends of mine, and went back to retrieve his wife's body for a proper burial. You can't imagine how difficult it was to return and have to tell him that his house was gone and I didn't find her. And as if he hadn't suffered enough, he and his daughter had to flee Texas when hurricane Rita began blowing in. But I'm happy to say that both father and daughter are physically well and while it will take time for them to get over their loss, they now reside within the safety of my circle of trusted friends and allies. He has chosen to raise his child among us and we are all happy to have them. Along and along, when she is old enough to understand, he has our permission to tell his daughter about us. I believe the Fates drew us together and meant them to become part of our circle. I am in awe of the little blonde haired cherub who calls me Uncle Garth and the man with courage of steel, who allows me to hold her, without fear for her safety.
At this writing, I have to constantly wrestle Roman for her time and affection for he, too, has lost his heart to our little cherub. Yep, even big, bad Vampyres can fall in love. Garth.
posted by Dreamteller at
3:27 AM
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