First, I would like to thank my fellow B&B members. When you offered to help and I said I didn't need it, you didn't press the issue. I am grateful for that.
The giving, caring, loving characters in my hometown are an altogether different story.
Forgive me for what I'm about to say, but I liken their efforts to date rape.
I am a proud man. I provide for my family and loathe depending on anyone else.
Yes, in the first few moments after our fire, it was nice that they were there. We were cold. No coats, no shoes. Our neighbors, bless them, provided. These things can be given back in short order and without much ado.
I meet with the adjuster. We have good insurance. All will be fine. I say so. Nobody listens.
Churches call and offer help. Friends, relatives, friends of friends, relatives of friends of friends. They all call and offer help. Offering money, tv's, couches. We're ok, I say. If you don't take it, I'll just be giving it to Goodwill, so you might as well take it. Ok, I say.
Local newspaper front page. Look at that poor family. Give to that poor family. Here are the locations where you can give to that poor family.
Radio station saying the same.
Trying to say no. Nobody listens. Sister says they're going to do it anyways, you might as well let them like they did for that other family. Violated.
Sitting in church. Around goes the offering plate. Afterward, without my permission, pastor says they're taking up a second offering for that poor family. Sitting right there. Feel eyes on me and mine. Ambushed. Can't say anything. Would look like an ***.
Heat dying down. Starting to feel like a normal guy. Fewer people I meet starting sentences with 'sorry to hear about'. Fewer times I want to say 'sorry you caught me today'. Son's school calls. They took up a coin drive. A what? Nobody asked me. Stuff done in my name. Begging done in my name. LAMINATED PICTURE OF MY SON on a flier asking for coins. Feel sick. Violated. Pressured to come down to school and attend presentation, accept check from children and pose for picture in paper. Last nerve. Remain calm but speak mind. Response is more pressure, made to feel like an ***. You should come anyways, kids wanted to help, this is a good thing, like we did for that other family.
Great. That other family. We'll be that other family to the next family.
Give in. Let the kids feel good about themselves, but no picture. No article. Enough.
It was just stuff. Aside from a few sentimental items, insurance can buy it back. The fire only took stuff.
The community took my dignity.
I feel grateful because my upbringing tells me I should. I feel angry because I do.
The giving, caring, loving characters in my hometown are an altogether different story.
Forgive me for what I'm about to say, but I liken their efforts to date rape.
I am a proud man. I provide for my family and loathe depending on anyone else.
Yes, in the first few moments after our fire, it was nice that they were there. We were cold. No coats, no shoes. Our neighbors, bless them, provided. These things can be given back in short order and without much ado.
I meet with the adjuster. We have good insurance. All will be fine. I say so. Nobody listens.
Churches call and offer help. Friends, relatives, friends of friends, relatives of friends of friends. They all call and offer help. Offering money, tv's, couches. We're ok, I say. If you don't take it, I'll just be giving it to Goodwill, so you might as well take it. Ok, I say.
Local newspaper front page. Look at that poor family. Give to that poor family. Here are the locations where you can give to that poor family.
Radio station saying the same.
Trying to say no. Nobody listens. Sister says they're going to do it anyways, you might as well let them like they did for that other family. Violated.
Sitting in church. Around goes the offering plate. Afterward, without my permission, pastor says they're taking up a second offering for that poor family. Sitting right there. Feel eyes on me and mine. Ambushed. Can't say anything. Would look like an ***.
Heat dying down. Starting to feel like a normal guy. Fewer people I meet starting sentences with 'sorry to hear about'. Fewer times I want to say 'sorry you caught me today'. Son's school calls. They took up a coin drive. A what? Nobody asked me. Stuff done in my name. Begging done in my name. LAMINATED PICTURE OF MY SON on a flier asking for coins. Feel sick. Violated. Pressured to come down to school and attend presentation, accept check from children and pose for picture in paper. Last nerve. Remain calm but speak mind. Response is more pressure, made to feel like an ***. You should come anyways, kids wanted to help, this is a good thing, like we did for that other family.
Great. That other family. We'll be that other family to the next family.
Give in. Let the kids feel good about themselves, but no picture. No article. Enough.
It was just stuff. Aside from a few sentimental items, insurance can buy it back. The fire only took stuff.
The community took my dignity.
I feel grateful because my upbringing tells me I should. I feel angry because I do.