Page 62 of 107 Days

In the Augusta, Georgia, neighborhood of Meadowbrook, downed power lines looped over fallen trees. The once-tidy streets of low-slung ranch houses were strewn with debris.

A young woman wept as she recounted how her husband had been killed in the storm. She’d left her bedroom because her daughter needed something, and in the moment she was gone, a tree fell on that room where her husband lay in bed.

As I made my way through the wreckage of homes and lives, the first responders described their tireless efforts to bring help.

At the local senior center, I helped volunteers hand out meals to weary men and women facing the long labor of rebuilding their lives.

It was, as always, such a stark contrast of the way disaster calls forth the best and worst of human nature.