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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required At three a.m. the annoying telephone rings “Hurricane Kate will soon be making landfall; Drive to Panama City, start collecting your things” Microphones and tape recorders, I pack them all Just one week till the end of hurricane season “Thanksgiving’s coming,” I grouse as I hit the road Scrub pines twist furiously; I know the reason Five months of calm weather, but now the motherload A drive that is usually two hours now takes five Lightning strikes everywhere, brightening the night sky Approaching the beach, I’m lucky to be alive I sit in fascination; the waves are so high The fisherman’s pier collapses into the sea A spin-off tornado tears the roof off a school Disoriented, a man wades through the debris I invite him to my car so we can seek safety A vivid bolt of lightning sends him to his knees He covers his ears as thunder roars ominously I toss my raincoat over him, watching him freeze He can’t tune out the noise and acts irrationally When we arrive at the emergency center People gather round him and I ask who he is “We call him Crazy Mazy,” says the director, “He served in Vietnam, many medals are his.” With Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, he’s homeless Living on the streets, Captain Jim Mazy seemed strange The locals knew him well and offered him kindness But to outsiders like me, he appeared deranged For seventy-two hours, I stayed on the air Talking to officials and those who assisted As death reports came in, we bowed our heads in prayer When I tried to talk to Mazy, he resisted It was he I remembered most when I drove home Members of the Capital Press Corps united No longer on the street would this veteran roam Compassion for a war hero had been ignited Habitat for Humanity gladly pitched in As did the public, when Mazy’s story was broadcast Never again would he writhe in a hurricane’s din Storms were behind him, Mazy had a home at last *True account, written June 28, 2014
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