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BY MICHAEL KEATING
On Thursday, March 1, the sky over Enterprise, Alabama, turned
dark, then ominous. Shortly after one o’clock, a
tornado’s funnel reached out of the swiftly moving,
leaden sky, touched down by the airport, withdrew, then
slammed to the ground again. The twister dawdled through
Enterprise, destroying everything it touched along a 10-mile
trail. Eight students were killed at the high school, and
many homes and businesses were totally ruined.
As he watched
in horror on his television, Alabama State Council President
Wayne Reynolds saw veterans in need. “They
didn’t need handouts,” he said. “They didn’t
need promises. They needed cash.”
So Reynolds turned
to National. He called VVA President John Rowan and explained
the needs. “Go for it,” Rowan
said and directed him to the VVA Disaster Relief Committee.
Reynolds contacted Tom Hall in Florida, who told him about
procedures and applications, but Reynolds said he didn’t
think that would work.
Although part of the committee’s job is to set parameters,
Hall and Committee Chair Craig Tonjes immediately agreed
with Reynolds’ boots-on-the-ground approach. What then,
they asked, did he want?
Five thousand dollars, Reynolds replied,
for which he would be personally and financially responsible.
The request was made on Tuesday. By Friday, the committee
had voted, decided affirmatively, and the money had been
electronically transferred to the Alabama State Council. “By
Friday,” Reynolds
said, “the money was in the bank.”
“Doc” Reynolds
also turned to VVA Chapter 373 in Enterprise. He asked Paul
Kasper, the immediate past chapter president, and Max Roberts,
past Alabama State Council president, to do what he couldn’t.
He asked each to do a separate assessment of military and
veteran families with critical needs. Those two men knew
the community and they had witnessed the devastation.
It was
a job that called for thoroughness, delicacy, and fairness.
Enterprise is a military town. It’s close
to Ft. Rucker and has a long familiarity and friendship with
the military. That’s one reason many veterans stay
after they retire. So the task was to compile lists that
would help the greatest number of families who really needed
the help—all within budgetary restraints.
On Saturday, March 10, Reynolds and his vice president,
Mike Davis, drove to Enterprise and met with Kasper and Roberts.
The four men carefully went over the two lists. They wanted
the final list to be right. Reynolds had no grandiose reconstruction
plans. He knew his resources and his limitations. “We
needed something. We needed it stripped down, simple, and
direct,” he said. “It’s what soldiers and
veterans, given the chance, do best. It’s what they
were trained to do.”
He also wanted this effort, though modest, to say something. “It
shows these men, these families, that you care,” Reynolds
said.
In the end, VVA’s national, state, and local organizations
combined their skills to provide immediate assistance to
storm-shaken veterans. The list was whittled down to twenty-one
names. The goal had been a final list of twenty names, which
would allow them to cut $250 checks. But the list didn’t
get any smaller, and the State Council agreed to donate the
final $250.
So Reynolds pulled out the checkbook, and they
filled in the recipients’ names. Then the four men
from VVA went through the ravaged area, shook hands with
veterans, expressed condolences, and handed each a check.
They
were greeted with hugs, handshakes, and tears. “President
Bush has been here,” said a veteran of both the Korean
and Vietnam Wars. “The Governor has been here, and
FEMA, and my insurance company has been here. But this is
the first money I’ve seen.”
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