Before and after
16/05/24 03:23
Many communities have “before and after” stories. The stories are memories of events that happened in the past that transformed the community, usually through some traumatic event. Members of the community who experienced that event or series of events are distinguished from those who joined the community afterward. Sometimes those divisions in the community play out in unexpected ways.
From 1985 to 1995 we served a congregation in Boise Idaho. Part of the history of that congregation is that the congregation had lost its building to a fire in 1942. It had been a real struggle for the congregation to rebuild a larger and more fireproof building during the war with all of the rationing and the shortages of labor that were the result of the war effort. Then, in 1952, a second tragic fire occurred. This one burned the roof off of the building, but the main structure was saved. The congregation once again re-built, this time adding an education wing to the building. After all of that building with the accompanying fund-raising required to pull it off the congregation was exhausted. There was no more building for a long time. When we arrived in 1985, the congregation was in need of a wide variety of building improvements and the building was too small for a growing congregation in a rapidly growing community. Part of our ministry of the next decade was enabling the congregation to believe that they were once again capable of building, raising funds to purchase additional land and to play building improvements and additions including new stairways, elevator access to all levels, remodeled and expanded offices, additional parking and more. By the time the remodeled building was rededicated the congregation had a sense of unity that it had not felt for a long time because the majority of the congregation had shared in the more recent building project and the old divisions of those who came before and after the fires faded from their identity.
Rapid City, where we served for the next 25 years was a community that had experienced a devastating flood in 1972. Over the night of June 9-10, 1972 more than 15 inches of rain fell in parts of the Black Hills. Rapid Creek and other waterways overflowed. Canyon Lake Dam on the west side of town became clogged with debris and failed causing a wall of water to tear through the town. The result was 238 deaths and over 3,000 injured people. Over 1,335 homes and more than 5,000 cars were destroyed. The aftermath of the flood and the shared trauma of the event distinguished those who had survived and witnessed the flood from those who moved to the area after the flood. It happened that we visited family in Rapid City during the year after the flood and so had some personal memories of having witnessed just a part of the aftermath. Those memories provided openings for us to talk with flood survivors as we served the congregation and helped to bridge the gaps in the congregation. Careful storytelling as part of the 25th anniversary of the flood helped the congregation to continue to offer healing to those who had been a part of the flood while still providing welcome to those who had come to the community after the flood.
One of the “before and after” stories of Bellingham, the community where we now attend church, is the Olympic Pipeline Explosion. It is interesting to note that the event, like the Rapid City Flood centers on June 10. On June 10, 1999, the Olympic Pipeline exploded in Whatcom Falls Park sending a fireball down Whatcom Creek killing three people and injuring an additional eight. Local businesses were evacuated, Interstate 5 was shut down, maritime traffic was halted in Bellingham Bay. Property damage was estimated at over $58 million. One house was completely destroyed and the city’s water treatment plant was severely damaged.
The Lummi House of Tears carvers created a story pole to memorialize the explosion and to help the community heal. The pole is displayed at the Woburn Street Trailhead in the park.
The Olympic Pipeline which transports gasoline from the BP refinery which can be seen from our home to Seattle, continues to operate. Last December at Conway, about 32 miles from the Whatcom Creek explosion, there was another spill on the pipeline. This one did not result in an explosion or fire. About 25,000 gallons of gasoline were leaked but no injuries or fatalities were reported. It was a reminder of the vulnerability of the pipeline and of all pipelines. Pipelines transporting oil and refined products made from oil have an important symbolic value in indigenous communities. The traditional stewards of Whatcom Creek are the Coast Salish tribes including the Lummi Nation and the Nooksack Tribe. From time immemorial the tribes established fishing and shellfish harvesting camps along the banks of the creek. The town of Bellingham grew from the selection of the creek as the site of a sawmill established by settlers intent on harvesting the wood to provide for expanding cities including Seattle and other communities as far away as San Francisco. The name Whatcom, now the name of our county, is an adaptation of a Coast Salish word meaning noisy or rumbling water.
Indigenous tribes across the continent have banded together to protest the construction and expansion of pipelines. In the winter of 2016, tribes and supporters from many nations gathered at Standing Rock to protest the Dakota Access Pipeline. Police used crowd control weapons including water canons in an attempt to control the protestors. Since that event and eventual disbanding of the encampment members of many indigenous tribes around the world have adopted the name of “water protectors.”
As was the case with the church fires in Boise and the flood in Rapid City, we are late comers, having arrived years after the pipeline explosion and fire. It is not difficult, however, to see the effects of the event and to witness the ongoing healing that remains. Just like the trees in the park all of which are younger than the surrounding forests, it will take years - even centuries - for restoration and healing. The community will retain the distinction of before and after for a long time. Knowing the story and respecting the ongoing healing is part of learning to live in our adopted home.
From 1985 to 1995 we served a congregation in Boise Idaho. Part of the history of that congregation is that the congregation had lost its building to a fire in 1942. It had been a real struggle for the congregation to rebuild a larger and more fireproof building during the war with all of the rationing and the shortages of labor that were the result of the war effort. Then, in 1952, a second tragic fire occurred. This one burned the roof off of the building, but the main structure was saved. The congregation once again re-built, this time adding an education wing to the building. After all of that building with the accompanying fund-raising required to pull it off the congregation was exhausted. There was no more building for a long time. When we arrived in 1985, the congregation was in need of a wide variety of building improvements and the building was too small for a growing congregation in a rapidly growing community. Part of our ministry of the next decade was enabling the congregation to believe that they were once again capable of building, raising funds to purchase additional land and to play building improvements and additions including new stairways, elevator access to all levels, remodeled and expanded offices, additional parking and more. By the time the remodeled building was rededicated the congregation had a sense of unity that it had not felt for a long time because the majority of the congregation had shared in the more recent building project and the old divisions of those who came before and after the fires faded from their identity.
Rapid City, where we served for the next 25 years was a community that had experienced a devastating flood in 1972. Over the night of June 9-10, 1972 more than 15 inches of rain fell in parts of the Black Hills. Rapid Creek and other waterways overflowed. Canyon Lake Dam on the west side of town became clogged with debris and failed causing a wall of water to tear through the town. The result was 238 deaths and over 3,000 injured people. Over 1,335 homes and more than 5,000 cars were destroyed. The aftermath of the flood and the shared trauma of the event distinguished those who had survived and witnessed the flood from those who moved to the area after the flood. It happened that we visited family in Rapid City during the year after the flood and so had some personal memories of having witnessed just a part of the aftermath. Those memories provided openings for us to talk with flood survivors as we served the congregation and helped to bridge the gaps in the congregation. Careful storytelling as part of the 25th anniversary of the flood helped the congregation to continue to offer healing to those who had been a part of the flood while still providing welcome to those who had come to the community after the flood.
One of the “before and after” stories of Bellingham, the community where we now attend church, is the Olympic Pipeline Explosion. It is interesting to note that the event, like the Rapid City Flood centers on June 10. On June 10, 1999, the Olympic Pipeline exploded in Whatcom Falls Park sending a fireball down Whatcom Creek killing three people and injuring an additional eight. Local businesses were evacuated, Interstate 5 was shut down, maritime traffic was halted in Bellingham Bay. Property damage was estimated at over $58 million. One house was completely destroyed and the city’s water treatment plant was severely damaged.
The Lummi House of Tears carvers created a story pole to memorialize the explosion and to help the community heal. The pole is displayed at the Woburn Street Trailhead in the park.
The Olympic Pipeline which transports gasoline from the BP refinery which can be seen from our home to Seattle, continues to operate. Last December at Conway, about 32 miles from the Whatcom Creek explosion, there was another spill on the pipeline. This one did not result in an explosion or fire. About 25,000 gallons of gasoline were leaked but no injuries or fatalities were reported. It was a reminder of the vulnerability of the pipeline and of all pipelines. Pipelines transporting oil and refined products made from oil have an important symbolic value in indigenous communities. The traditional stewards of Whatcom Creek are the Coast Salish tribes including the Lummi Nation and the Nooksack Tribe. From time immemorial the tribes established fishing and shellfish harvesting camps along the banks of the creek. The town of Bellingham grew from the selection of the creek as the site of a sawmill established by settlers intent on harvesting the wood to provide for expanding cities including Seattle and other communities as far away as San Francisco. The name Whatcom, now the name of our county, is an adaptation of a Coast Salish word meaning noisy or rumbling water.
Indigenous tribes across the continent have banded together to protest the construction and expansion of pipelines. In the winter of 2016, tribes and supporters from many nations gathered at Standing Rock to protest the Dakota Access Pipeline. Police used crowd control weapons including water canons in an attempt to control the protestors. Since that event and eventual disbanding of the encampment members of many indigenous tribes around the world have adopted the name of “water protectors.”
As was the case with the church fires in Boise and the flood in Rapid City, we are late comers, having arrived years after the pipeline explosion and fire. It is not difficult, however, to see the effects of the event and to witness the ongoing healing that remains. Just like the trees in the park all of which are younger than the surrounding forests, it will take years - even centuries - for restoration and healing. The community will retain the distinction of before and after for a long time. Knowing the story and respecting the ongoing healing is part of learning to live in our adopted home.
