Unraveled Wednesday

Even though I haven't knit much during the past two weeks, I'm joining Kat for Unraveled Wednesday. It's as much to spur myself on as it is to share my same old, same old knitting. Here's the Hitchhiker, looking much like it did a few weeks ago, except it's grown by a few teeth. 

My trusty turtle progress keeper is keeping track of any progress I make, and he's especially appropriate since it's at a turtle's pace. 

I'm picturing (possibly the right word might be imagining) going over to Ryan's house this weekend, relaxing on his recliner, with very few boxes to unpack, while Ryan prepares something delicious for dinner. I could get some knitting done, and it just might happen!

I have been able to do some reading. I finished Miss Buncle's Book and Miss Buncle Married after I switched to audiobook format so I could listen while I hoisted heavy furniture. I also read Wayward, an interesting novel about anger and feeling unmoored after the 2016 election, growing older, not being seen, breaking points, and Syracuse. I lived there for a decade in the 1980s so the descriptions of the city and its architecture spoke to me. 

The latest book that I read was unlike any other that I have read before. It's titled Personal Effects: What Recovering the Dead Teaches me About Living. Written by Robert A. Jensen, CEO and owner of Kenyon International Emergency Services, a  115-year-old disaster management company. I had no idea companies like this even existed, but they are an incredibly well-organized leader in crisis management planning and response. They provide mortuary services in mass casualty situations, including recovery, identification, and return of personal belongings. They have expanded to provide direct support to families by counseling, telephone inquiry centers and crisis communications. 

Mr. Jensen began his career in the Army and responded to the crash in Croatia that killed Commerce Secretary Ron Brown and others, and the Oklahoma City bombing.

Oklahoma City taught me an early and important lesson about large-scale catastrophes: Don't expect wisdom at the moment of death. Don't expect anyone to know where they're going or even what they're doing.

Later his company was involved with the bombing of UN headquarters in Baghdad, the September 11 attacks, the Indian Ocean tsunami, the earthquake in Haiti, Hurricane Katrina, and the Covid-19 pandemic. This book is not just a recitation of disasters and how he responded, but rather a careful recounting of the delicate procedures that Jensen and Kenyon have learned and perfected in dealing with multiple governments, local rules and customs, while maintaining respect and dignity for the victims and families. This book may not be for everyone, but it was educational, enlightening, and a valuable read for me.

One thing politicians, planners, and ordinary people need to remember is this: we don't control nearly as much as we think we do. Mass fatalities and crises expose that fact like nothing else. We have to learn to accept that fact in a way that we generally don't at the moment. But we also have more ability to respond than most of us realize. Don't fight the things you can't control. Focus on the things you can.

What are you making, reading, and focusing on this week?