In the Adirondacks, grace under Irene’s pressure

The last three or four days I’ve heard more people use the word “surreal” in casual conversation than ever before in my life.  Adirondackers saw their modest little mountain streams pull a full-blown Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Hyde.

Homes and businesses that seemed safe through years and decades of lesser floods were suddenly inundated by growling torrents, or simply washed away.

This will sound maudlin to some ears, but through these hard long days, the surreal ugliness of Irene has been resisted stubbornly and with remarkable good humor.

Yes, people are dog tired.  And yes they are smart and realistic enough to know that some hard times lie ahead.

Local leaders already stressed by budget deficits, soaring demands from constituents, and from the spring floods, find themselves bailing water yet again.

Many business-owners were scrambling to keep afloat even before Irene stopped by.

Yet in the midst of all that, I have heard more laughter, seen more volunteerism, and observed more sheer pluck than in all my thirteen years in these mountains combined.

It’s been observed before that North Country folk are at their best when things are hardest.  From ice storms to floods to forest fires, nothing brings out our quality like a good, honest natural disaster.

There’s no point over-romanticizing this sort of thing.  On top of all that courage and fortitude, the region will need help.  A lot of help. Bootstraps can only lift you so far.

But without that iron-and-anorthosite core of spirit, that strength of community, all the outside help in the world wouldn’t be enough.

Yes, Irene pushed us around a little.  But the foundations are still strong.

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