Ten years ago today.

Ten years ago today I woke up at the crack of dawn to the burnt out smell of my candle. As I drove to work today, I thought of how peaceful the morning was. This morning was a quiet morning. The bright sun and clear sky were the only thing that this morning had in common with that one. And that's where the likeness stopped. Ten years ago today I woke up and pulled on my dirty shorts and a fresh grubby t-shirt from out of my closet. I remember the cold chill in the house from the doors and windows being wide open morning and night. There's nothing like waking up to the smell of generator. After grabbing a cold Egg McMuffin from the Red Cross van that made circuits through the neighborhood, locating my gloves and a baseball hat, I was ready to get to work. Just as ready to work as the horse police patroling the area. Ten years ago today was the morning after.

Many people won't believe me, except for those with me, but when it was coming I knew it. I'd been through this kind of thing before, but not here where we're supposed to be protected by mountains. I looked out the window and saw the purple, blue and green sky and knew that it was coming. I grabbed my cousins and we hid in the basement waiting for it to pass. Little did I know the manner in which it passed until I emerged from that home.

Ten years ago today, I learned how to handle a chainsaw. I got cuts all over my legs from hauling tree branches and tree trunks from people's backyards. I got sweaty from pulling debris out from the road. I didn't go to youth conference. It's not as if we were officially called into action to chainsaw and haul and lift and move and unburry people's lives from the rubble - it just sort of happened.

As the weather approached our house, Patricia looked out the window and caught a glimpse of the neighbor's small puppies literally flying over the fence. She braved the elements and ran out to retrieve the animals. She was followed by a flying table and chairs. Just as she got the pups to safety and closed the door behind her, the table that was tailing her flew into the glass door. Thank goodness for large tempered glass.

Ten years ago today, there was a giant hole in my parent's skylight where a twelve inch bolt from the Conference Center fell from the sky. All of the seals were broken on all of the windows. All of the trees were gone. A transformer box blew up in the backyard. All of these things were counted as blessings as we saw the horrific damage done right next door. And no, I am not referring to Memory Grove. This is what baffles me.

Across the street, the Wilson's lost their entire upstairs as the roof of their home was completely lifted off. They watched from behind their couch as the ceiling of their home was removed. Sister Pederson's living room and roof was also taken away - and promptly placed into the pool next door with the Wilson's roof. Physical memories of her husband were destroyed and the walls of her home were literally torn down. The Lakes lost all of their windows. The pool lost its roof and became the temporary dumping ground for roofs and other debris. And that was just my next-door neighbors.

Yesterday I read the paper and saw the news. The mayor gave a speech in Memory Grove to thank all of the numerous volunteers who helped rescue the small canyon memorial. According to the Salt Lake Tribune, Becker stated that, "At the time, in this place, there used to be the comfort of all of those trees, all that shade, and all of the sudden it was gone," he said. What happened next, though, refreshed Becker's belief in his community, the mayor said, echoing a theme for the commemorative event. Becker recalled watching in awe as "a community came together almost miraculously... to restore what was an absolutely beautiful park and make it, in 10 short years, an even better park."

To restore what was beautiful and make it an even better.......park? I'm glad that Becker's belief in his community hinges upon the restoration of a park. I can't help but think of the Wilson's covering their family home with a tarp to protect it from further elements. I can't help but think of the horse police guarding the home of Francis Pederson - who lost so much - to keep her from losing even more from looters. What about the neighborhood that was so badly hurt, yet we so bravely came together? That's what restores my belief in my community.

Let's not forget that 10 years ago yesterday in this place, there used to be comfort of all of those homes which held childhood memories for many people and provided shelter and safety. Homes people had lived in and built their families together were destroyed. Without announcing any official effort, 10 years ago yesterday we all came together to fix it. Every age. Every faith. Every street. We unburied the homes from the wreckage. We were patient with one another as we taught younger ones how to use chainsaws. We were fed by the Red Cross volunteers with their funny dreadlocks who offered us food by saying, "Hey dude, you wanna banana?" My home became the command center where perfect strangers who were now counted as friends, could come in and out for a stop at the restroom and to get a drink of water. For four days straight we worked to help each other recover from the damage. The tornado tore our neighborhood apart, and yet it so immediately brought our neighborhood together to make it an even better neighborhood.