This wasn’t supposed to happen.
What was supposed to happen was I’d graduate again, send my family on their merry way, and start (1) freelance writing, (2) P90X, (3) editing my book, (4) The Harvard Classics.
Then an EF5 tornado, whom I’m unaffectionately referring to as Clyde, ripped my town in half. Literally. (As in the second use of that term most commonly assumed to be the first use. It’s Literating people. We’ve got to get that one right). They’re calling it the worst tornado in six decades of recorded history, maybe longer. We don’t know if any worse tornadoes existed because no one used the word “tornado” before that. It scared people back then. Rightly so:
So instead of writing, I’ve been pitching in with many people who are much better than I am at life and love that we might reorient this disoriented city. We love Joplin, and we hope to resurrect her.
We could use your help. In more ways than one.
