[StBernard] REDNECKS

[Westley Annis]

Thought you would like this, so true...

 

Over the past few months, I have come to know Loretta Gillespie, a writer
for the Cullman Times and the Moulton Advertiser, and when I read this
article that she wrote in the Moulton paper last week, I asked her if I
could share it with our readers. She and her editor gave approval to reprint
the article, so I hope this helps give some recognition to some of Alabama's
unsung heroes during and after the April 27th tornado outbreak:

Moulton Advertiser
Loretta Gillespie
May  7, 2011

"I Love Me Some Rednecks"

"Most all of us around here have borne the brunt of remarks from people
outside Lawrence County about being rednecks. Well, I'm here to tell you
right now that I love me some Lawrence County rednecks!

Rednecks have Polan chainsaws, bulldozers, four-wheelers and big ol' trucks
- and they know how to use 'em. They aren't afraid of getting dirty or of
hard work.

As soon as the wind died down, they were the first ones out there, clearing
the roads for emergency vehicles to get to where they needed to be. They
were standing up to their knees in debris so that people could get out of
their driveways. They were checking on neighbors who lived in the hardest
hit areas where cars and normal vehicles didn't stand a chance.

If you were the victim of the storm and found your driveway miraculously
cleared, you can thank a redneck. If you have a brush pile a mile high and
you didn't do it yourself, you can thank a redneck. If someone brought you a
shirt to put on your back that day, or hauled your furniture to a storage
facility, you can probably thank a  redneck.

Those good ol' boys waded through water filled with gas and glass, nails and
torn tin roofs and no telling what else to offer assistance to people
stranded in the rubble of their homes. They wore camo jackets and John Deere
caps, spit tobacco and more than likely did a little cussing, but they got
the job done, and they are the ones who are still out there cutting up trees
and burning brush long into the night, just as they have been ever since the
storms hit.

They didn't wait to be asked...they just 'got 'er done' in the true sense of
the phrase. They didn't stand round jawing and waiting for someone else to
take charge, they went to work doing what they do best - moving earth,
pushing aside massive trees with  root systems as big around as a VW, and
tossing aside boards with splinters the size of kitchen knives.

And they did all this without any thought of their own comfort or safety.
They put their scuffed cowboy boots and worn work boots on the ground and
tread across roof beams and unsteady floors to make sure there was no one
left inside the wreckage of everything from two-story brick houses to mobile
home and barns. They already had a flashlight and a pocket-knife with them.
They rounded up their neighbor's cattle and horses and coaxed kittens out of
trees where the wind had tossed them and they cried like babies when they
found someone's hunting dog broken and bleeding.

They waded into poultry houses and caught terrified chickens, and tossed
mountains of dead ones onto piles to burn. They began to hang tarps and nail
plywood over broken windows to save their cousins and other kinfolk's
belongings. They didn't stop for hours on end, hooking chains to cars, trees
and any and everything that had landed helter-skelter as the tornados tore
through.  Rednecks just show up when there is work to be done. They drive up
and with a silent nod, they just pitch in, salvaging refrigerators and
hooking up generators. They don't care if they look cool and they don't have
to shave before they leave the house. They are tough as nails and love their
mamas fiercely. They still say 'Yes, ma'm' and 'No, sir,' to anyone older
than they are. They eat cornbread and pinto beans and drink tea so sweet a
spoon will stand straight up in the glass. They sweat and swear and have
grease under their nails sometimes. They can deliver a calf and half an hour
later be sitting in church, scrubbed to a fare-thee-well. And did they ever
save the day when the thunder rolled and the lightning flashed and the wind
knocked down the houses where they were born?

They don't do it for the glory, and wouldn't dream of taking a dime for it,
and are sometimes even offended if someone asks how much they are owed
'cause that's what rednecks do - they drive loud trucks, bobcats and
front-end loaders, they crank cantankerous chain saws and they know the feel
of rope burns and blistered faces. They get those red necks from the sun
beating down relentlessly as they labor in the dust and smoke from all the
brush fires. They think sun-screen is for sissies and they don't worry much
about anti-bacterial soap or drink fruit-flavored water.

Give me a Lawrence County redneck any day when trouble comes - when fences
get blown over and the lights go out, and there are trees and houses strewn
like matchsticks as far as the eye can see, what in the world would we do
without these rednecks?  Thanks to all of you dear rednecks, you deserve
medals for what you have done in the past few weeks.  And don't think the
world didn't notice, they did.  In fact, somebody is probably writing a
country song about you as you read this."

Loretta  Gillespie writes for the Moulton Advertiser