Sweet Home Alabama

In the days since a mighty storm devastated portions of the Southeast I've tried several times to sit down and write about what happened and the aftermath. It wasn't until last night when my honey was quietly playing the guitar and played those very distinctive opening notes to "Sweet Home Alabama" that I found the words.

I have the great fortune of being able to call several places "home." Most fortunate of all is that they're all in the deep South. I was born in Louisiana -- New Orleans to be exact. Between there and my daddy's hometown in Winn Parish I have a place that's home. I was raised in Alabama. From the time that I was three years old until I was 22 I lived in the state that became a legend around the world because of a band called Lynyrd Skynyrd. And for almost 17 years now (gosh, the math and the years it equals is FRIGHTENING) I've called Florida home.

And over the years I've seen all three of the places I'm fortunate to call home face trials and tribulations in the form of storms. Beloved Pensacola has been hit by several hurricanes with Ivan having the most devastating impact. It seemed to tear a hole in my heart to see many of my favorite places damaged and impaired. Never will I forget the images from New Orleans after Katrina...remembering what a great time I had the last time I was in the Superdome as people were there suffering.

But nothing has rendered me speechless like the devastation in Sweet Home Alabama. The little town I grew up in, Demopolis, was 45 minutes south of Tuscaloosa. We had doctors and a hospital and a Big K (the VERY early version of a Wal-Mart) and several locally-owned restaurants. But if you had to see a "specialist" or have a major procedure OR find the Jordache jeans that Brooke Shields was sporting...you went to Tuscaloosa. There was not one but TWO malls. AND there was Red Lobster!!

Tuscaloosa is where my momma and I bought my first pageant dress. Tuscaloosa is where my best friend Cindy and I used birthday money to buy a week's worth of matching outfits for camp. Tuscaloosa is where I saw Top Gun for the first time. Tuscaloosa is where I first heard a dirty little word called cancer in reference to my daddy. Tuscaloosa sheltered our little family of three through 14 months of treatment.

My destination was Tuscaloosa the night I got a phone call about my sweet momma and I jumped on a plane not knowing if I'd make it in time. But I did make it on time. And momma rallied. During the 16 days she spent in the stroke intensive care unit at DCH Regional Medical Center when I could only see her 4 times a day for 30 minutes, Tuscaloosa was there. The Starbucks on McFarland Boulevard was warming in the cold days of December. Full Moon BBQ provided much needed sustenance and a good cold beer after a long day at the hospital. The stores of McFarland Mall came to the rescue when I realized that I'd packed 5 pairs of pants but only two sweaters in my haste to pack.

Growing up in Alabama I wasn't an Alabama fan...I was, and still am, all about that school that chants "War Eagle." But I am a fan of Tuscaloosa and am forever grateful for all that small town in Alabama has been for me and my family. In the days, weeks, months and unfortunately, years ahead that it will take T-town to rebuild please know that I believe in you.