It is true that the Tide rolls forever in Alabama. We are considered the college football capital of the South. We learned the hard way how to play by the rules and came thundering back as the SEC Champions.
Quite a feat but football is in our blood...here in Dixie.
Rome would be proud.
Warning: Today's blog is an attempt to discharge some sorrow, grief and utter anguish. If you wish to continue to feel all warm and fuzzy...then go on to the next blog.
You will not find it here...not today.
This is Alabama, and we are at a all-time devastating low tide as the Gulf of Mexico continues her heroic battle of life itself.
Every morning I wake to an enormous lump in throat and try to swallow. I tell myself that I must rise, greet the sun and face reality. I tell myself that surely this day will bring hope...hope that we can stop the lethal arterial bleed gushing out at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico. The sickening cramp deep in my gut will not relent. I sleep, yet do not feel rested.
I laid in my comfortable bed, staring at the ceiling...searching for positive thought. It does not feel right to feel comfortable.
I call out to the Universe...
'Help us now'. I cry out a silent scream of utter anguish and pain. I struggle to put my feet on the floor. I muster courage to stand up. A series of events have brought me to this place of despair. A series of choices and decisions that my great ancestors made years ago that now impact the entire world. Choices that were beneficial for a select few on Earth; decisions which provided security for a select few that now their remains lay deep underground in the earth... safe and sound beneath a solid cover of soil and grass.
'Woe to the sins of the Fathers...for they shall be passed on to the children and their children.'

My back remains worn and scarred from the weight of this world we inherited. My heart is burdened with the weight of utter despair and sadness. My brain understands how to sustain life...give life...maintain and respect life...but I cannot fix this. I grieve. What is the benefit of all the wars, all the protests, all the effort to survive if we simply cannot protect the physical realm in which we govern to experience it?
How did humanity end up here?
Several weeks ago, I was full of energy and courage...signed up with
BP and ready to go fight for the wildlife that were cloaked in this putrid, crude bile. I did not feel I had a choice...I didn't hesitate. Far from my mind was the notion that we were not all on the same page: rescue, assess and implement the treatment plan. We cannot stop the oil spill but we can fight it. We can help the ecosystem battle for the lives of all organisms that call her
Mother.

I had no inclination that I had just stepped onto a carousel of chaos and confusion where it was impossible to see, hear or find anything hopeful or good. The private charter captain that committed suicide last week on his boat, did so after being contracted by
BP to employ his boat to help place booms. Everyone thought it was because of his shock of loosing his livelihood. May this dear Captain rest in peace, however, I believe he simply could not cope with what he witnessed; the immensity of the loss of all that mattered to him; the immensity of the massive amount of life lost is nothing less than unbearable.
He stated,
"Everything is dead out there."
Now I sit and wait on a promised phone call to inform me of where I am to work. I have been told when, what and how to jump in ...but nowhere to land.
Three weeks later, the phone call does not come.
The line is silent... like Death.
I was told, "
BP is cutting costs and liabilities. You may never get called now...everything is dead or dying." Did I just hear that?
I will refuse to believe it...our souls are not dead. As long as we can suffer the gut-wrenching pain of witnessing the slow death of an entire ecosystem, we are still alive. The tides of the Gulf are still rolling and for now, that is enough for me to cling to the hope that we will cap the well and stop this environmental disaster.