THE GREAT GROSSE POINTE TORNADO OF 1997

An aspect of mental health not often considered is the ability to deal with the stress of tangible emergencies. From what I have observed, many Grosse Pointers coped with creativity and resourcefulness. For the most part we were spared the destructiveness visited upon Hamtramck and Highland Park. We were lucky to have large lots and sturdy houses; still the tornadoes and high winds wreaked havoc with many of our venerable Dutch elms, survivors of Dutch elm disease. As a result, many of us were without power or phone service for several days.

Therefore, it was inevitable as the days wore on that frozen food would be thawing in freezers and refrigerators and it would have been a sin to waste it. So in the midst of the frantic clearing with dozens of chainsaws going, our neighbors on Three Mile Drive three blocks down passed out flyers announcing a block party, calling for the emptying of freezers and supplying gas and charcoal grills for a cook-out. Al fresco, indeed! In the midst of a disaster of monumental proportions, Grosse Pointers were having a picnic! Hamburgers, cheeseburgers, knockwurst, potato salad, baked beans, chips, dip and veggies, pop, wine and beer. Somebody had ice. There were paper plates, napkins and styrofoam cups for the coffee and brownies.

It was a chance to get together and commiserate. We de-briefed each other. Everyone had stories. We talked about the tragic deaths in Grosse Pointe Farms and the family that died of fumes from a gas generator. There were stories about pet dogs that wouldn't go out for a walk hours before the storm, about other dogs that kept walking toward the basement. We talked about the woodsmen descending out of nowhere, wielding their chainsaws and clearing paths from driveways so that cars can come and go. We talked about kids and school and the PTO and the rest of the summer and next fall.

In a way it was like a support group. I was happy to hear that some of my neighbors had been reading my column and enjoying it. It was not necessary for me to intervene professionally in any way. We were all more or less in the same boat and were happy to have good company and conversation and good food. When you think of it, what is more comforting than the company of good people and food, glorious food?

In the days that followed there was evidence of more and more resourcefulness and creativity. As the logs were cut and stacked, people made signs--- "FREE FIREWOOD". I think there was enough firewood for next winter. I learned that Norway maple made excellent firewood, slow and steady burning; that is why ours disappeared so fast. We set out as much as we could so that the city would be able to clear it more easily, eventually. People from miles around helped the cleanup by loading their vans and pickups with what would turn out to be excellent firewood. Ultimately, we saw cherry-pickers and chippers everywhere and learned that they had come from surrounding states. We are not alone!

My first tree-person had been there earlier in the day, before the storm, advising us against taking out a diseased crabapple, because it was making a come-back and had new sprouts. Later that day, during the storm, within the hour of a tree limb from a neighbor blocking our driveway, I called him at home and he came right over with his chainsaw. He single-handedly cleared our driveway in the still pouring rain, seemingly mindless of the weather and personal discomfort. I rewarded him with cash and we were both happy.

We had been preparing our yard for the wedding of our youngest daughter and the storm seemed to ruin everything, newly planted flowers and bushes, lovingly prepared garden beds. It took two days of hard work, but with some help, order and beauty was restored. There was still a large tree limb in our circle garden and we could only wonder how long it would take to get help.

The doorbell rang while we were conducting a family therapy session by candlelight, and it was another woodsman with a chainsaw who was making the rounds looking for work. I pointed to the trouble and he gave me a price to remove it. While we finished the family therapy session, he removed the offending limb. The money we earned doing the therapy session went to the woodsman, who turned out to be quite voluble, and told us all about his woodworking art, his hunting skills and his girlfriend.

We later invited the young couple over to see our woodcarvings, which delighted them, and he brought over an antelope flank steak for our future dining pleasure, now that the freezer was working again.

And so it goes--- disaster hits, people cope, use their potential for resourcefulness and creativity, get to know and like one another, and life goes on.

Dr. Bloom is a psychiatrist and psychoanalyst practicing in Grosse Pointe Park. He is Clinical Associate Professor of Psychiatry in WSU's School of Medicine, Life Fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and member of the American Academy of Psychoanalysis. email-- vbloom@comcast.net.