Peering into the darkness illuminates the soul.
For thousands of survivors of Sunday's killer tornado in Joplin who sought comfort as a Cimmerian shade blocked the sunset, the blackness brought everything into focus. They saw each other, neighbors in need, stripped naked of worldly problems and relationships, awaiting their fate. They reached, or fell, into each others' arms, seeking the safety of human touch as wood, brick and glass came crashing down around them.
Facing that darkness, 23-year-old Isaac Duncan turned on the video recorder on his phone and captured the harrowing moments as he, his friends and more than a dozen strangers crowded into a convenience store cooler as the angry hand of Mother Nature reached down and destroyed a swath of southwest Missouri six miles wide.
"Everybody get down. Huddle on the ground."
The digital recording, in which clear, distressed voices cut through the dark, wobbly picture, has become a YouTube hit in the new digital age. It is scary, poignant, gut-wrenching and very telling, both about the human will to survive, and the inquisitive nature of a species that seeks to understand how and why such tragedies occur.
A child wails. The store clerk risks his own life to unlock the door and save three more travelers seeking shelter, and he musters up the courage to try to calm those seeking refuge in his store, as though somehow, he were responsible for their lives.
"Jesus, Jesus, Jesus."
Some reach to their God when tragedy strikes. Others curse him and wonder about the push and pull between good and evil that miraculously finds seven people alive in the rubble a day later even as the death toll climbs above 117. And some of us, unable to turn away, watch and listen as people prepare to meet their maker, protecting those around them while accepting the probability that they will die.
We wonder, how would we react in that situation? Would we be strong? Who would we reach for? Who would protect us?
"I love everyone, man. I love you."
Nobody in that destroyed convenience store died. But the death toll in a city of about 50,000 is rising, and the state, the nation and, indeed, the world are responding with physical and financial support.
At times of crisis, the human capacity for helping our neighbors is amazing. When a tsunami hits halfway across the world, when an earthquake devastates a tiny Caribbean island, when flooding devastates a region, when a hurricane swallows a port city, we reach out and do what we can.
Such tragedy serves as a painful reminder, though. What are we doing for our fellow neighbor before it gets dark?
Will we walk into a convenience store today, when the sun is shining and all seems well, and wonder about that person across the aisle, the clerk pulling a second shift trying to make ends meet, the mother with the crying child who just needs some milk?
The darkness sheds light on our humanity.
What we choose to see is up to us.
— Tony Messenger
