"Wade in the water,
Wade in the water, children,
Wade in the water,
God's gonna trouble the water..."
--(Traditional)
An old friend asked me recently to write here again. That it'd been at least a calendar year since my last post, and so much had transpired and shifted in my life since then. That's for another time, but I thank my friend for even giving this a passing thought. Might just wade back in for a bit.
: :
Friday night, the second of July, I meet a man I'll call Coast Guard Johnny at a barbeque joint in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. Rushed to wrap up the evening, I am introduced to Johnny by my husband, who offers that Johnny is down from Como to work the oil spill. Pause. I shake Johnny's hand to thank him for the work he's doing, can only imagine, cleaning up everybody else's mess. His hands are huge, thick and calloused. His build is farm-strong, looks like a linebacker. Turns out, he is a former University of Alabama football player and a former wrestler as well as a 12-year veteran of the fire department. He is HAZMAT-certified and trained as an EMT. Heads up a Coast Guard crew operating out of Pascagoula. All said, Johnny probably is not easily rattled, probably would not suffer fools gladly.
Upon hearing my words of thanks, his eyes soften a bit. His breath hitches slightly. Somewhere, a blowout preventer fails. Weeks of mounting pressure begin to move up and out. He holds onto my hand for a second longer than expected and says, "Thank you. You can't imagine.....they've created a Dead Sea."
: :
"We have met the enemy, and he is us."
--Walt Kelly (from Pogo)
: :
Husband loves to fish. He and musical compadres head to the public pier to test their lines. Live shrimp bait is running $3 a dozen. Boom floats in a limp arc around the harbor. Seagulls swoop and dart around in the humid, salty air. A pelican stands watch. Tiny fish flip happily on the surface of the water. Almost as if nothing ominous is happening nearby. And the men fish in the sunshine.
A Mississippi wildlife official casually passes them by, holding signs to post that would effectively prohibit fishing in these waters. Encountering the men, the official--maybe caught up in the idyllic summer scene--announces that for today, he's not gonna post the signs. That the boys can fish.
Had the men stopped to consider the official, they may have found a weariness in his voice. They may have caught his sigh of relief upon seeing a sight so...normal.
Moments pass. Maybe an hour. Maybe more. Nibbles but no prize catch.
The same official returns, issuing game and fish citations to each. Fishing in prohibited waters. No fine listed. Court date set. Looking for a fight. Underlying anger. Hot sun. Dead air. No discussion.
The gulls are gone.
: :
“If we go on the way we have, the fault is our greed . . . if we are not willing [to change], we will disappear from the face of the globe, to be replaced by the insect.”
-- Jacques Cousteau
: :
Coast Guard Johnny tells his story in leading questions and concrete stream-of-consciousness statements. I can tell he wants to tell more, but time is running out, on our conversation as much as anything.
"Look, my job's safe.....they can't fire me like they have so many others, short-timers, people who say too much to the wrong people......BP is allowing this well to run.....I'm saying that, look, BP owns the technology, the patent, on the best, most efficient solar panels available in the marketplace.....I should know, I help distribute them.....they also have the means to stop this well but won't......Salazar rides with me and my crew just about every other week, doesn't say a word......the water is red......the amount of carcasses we find every day would shock you.....I've made it my & my crew's job to try to keep the porpoises away from all of it.....we work where the water is still green and blue.....we have a little signal we sent the porpoises, and so far, it's worked.....but, you know, I've carried bodies, babies out of burning buildings, and some days, I'm just not prepared for this.........I'm telling you, what they have done will result in a Dead Sea....one that won't return in five, ten years, or even 20, or even in our lifetime........will I let my kids swim in that water? Hell, no.....I wouldn't step foot in it anywhere right now......the dispersants can be found as shallow as two feet below the water's surface.......oh, I brought my kids down here, just to show 'em, 'Look, this is the Gulf, this is what it should be but will be no more.......' I'm telling you, BP has destroyed this Gulf for our lifetime......."
Coast Guard Johnny offers Husband and me a place on deck the next morning, to go past the red and black and out into the green and blue waters where the Gulf still exists in balance. To see the porpoises and life. Where things still seem....normal. Pause. I thank him. I blink hard and tell him I just don't think I can bear witness. I just can't.
: :
Driving past clean-up crews in Gulfport. Two men in HAZMAT suits sleep on the sand in the mid-day sun. Shovels or rakes stand upright in the sand, empty plastic bags tied to the handles and catching the wind. Look like strange flags. Flying the oil disaster Standard. But for whom are they claiming this territory?
: :
"
Republicans and Democrats can't give you the facts/
Your parents won't tell you 'til you're grown/
That every star that shines in the back of your mind/
Is just waiting for its cover to be blown."
That every star that shines in the back of your mind/
Is just waiting for its cover to be blown."
--"We've Been Had" by Uncle Tupelo
Keep hope alive, chillen'.
j:.
