I spent the day yesterday (Monday, October 12) at Umpqua Community College, about two hours south of here in Roseburg (OR). It was the first day for students and staff back on campus after the October 1 shootings that killed nine and wounded nine others.
It was a day full of intensity, tears, faint smiles, melancholy, small, heartwarming moments of joy, reflection, volunteer and community support, comforting words, and first steps in trying to return to normalcy.
No, it was not the time or the place for a clown. I was there as a Red Nose Responder, representing the 1100+ members of the national organization Red Nose Response (RNR) – caring clowns who "send smiles to the rescue" and bring the heart of the clown into relief and healing efforts in communities dealing with disasters or catastrophes.
I was there in street clothes, my RNR t-shirt and name badge, red high top Chuck Taylors (for visual cues, of course), and a satchel full of paper napkin roses, hoping to bring gentle humor, relief, and distraction from the mass shooting with which the UCC and Roseburg communities were dealing.
It was a long, intense day, up at 3:45 AM after a restless half-night’s sleep, on the road an hour later. I pulled into the dark, pre-dawn campus at 6:50 AM, past the media trucks and community well-wishers that were just starting to set up. Staff and students would start arriving at 7:00 AM, so I wanted to be there early. It was cold out, too, just 46 degrees, and because the forecast was for sunny and 80, I’d forgotten to pack and dress for a possible outdoor, early morning post.
After checking in, I went back to the car and refocused, sorted through, sized down, and repacked all of the many supplies and props that I’d brought along (I was prepared for just about anything), and then trundled off to The Compass, a central meeting area and crossroads right in the middle of campus, with a fanny pack full of red paper napkins roses, my red bowler, and a water bottle. RNR and “smiles to the rescue” would take the shape of red roses, supportive and encouraging words, and hugs to help UCC take another step in the healing process.
Five and a half hours – and about 140 hand-twisted red roses and numerous conversations – later, the foot traffic had thinned, all the “I am UCC #uccstrong” t-shirts distributed, warm thank you’s exchanged, many questions about Red Nose Response answered, and my left arm biceps cramped and thumb and index finger bruised from the rose twisting (yes, I admit, I am a wimp when it comes to non-stop, marathon napkin rose production!), so I hit the road with a warm glow from having helped out, even in a small way, along with my PB&J, Eddie Vedder, and open windows in the hope I could fight off exhaustion until I arrived safely home in Salem.
Which I did . . . barely . . . and after unpacking, slid into a power nap with my dogs until my wife came home from subbing and we could share stories about how our respective days went. Mine had been pretty rewarding and cool and exhausting. But the real story was the strength of heart at UCC.
Next, I’ll talk about how and how quickly the Red Nose Response to Umpqua Community College came together.
It was a day full of intensity, tears, faint smiles, melancholy, small, heartwarming moments of joy, reflection, volunteer and community support, comforting words, and first steps in trying to return to normalcy.
No, it was not the time or the place for a clown. I was there as a Red Nose Responder, representing the 1100+ members of the national organization Red Nose Response (RNR) – caring clowns who "send smiles to the rescue" and bring the heart of the clown into relief and healing efforts in communities dealing with disasters or catastrophes.
I was there in street clothes, my RNR t-shirt and name badge, red high top Chuck Taylors (for visual cues, of course), and a satchel full of paper napkin roses, hoping to bring gentle humor, relief, and distraction from the mass shooting with which the UCC and Roseburg communities were dealing.
It was a long, intense day, up at 3:45 AM after a restless half-night’s sleep, on the road an hour later. I pulled into the dark, pre-dawn campus at 6:50 AM, past the media trucks and community well-wishers that were just starting to set up. Staff and students would start arriving at 7:00 AM, so I wanted to be there early. It was cold out, too, just 46 degrees, and because the forecast was for sunny and 80, I’d forgotten to pack and dress for a possible outdoor, early morning post.
After checking in, I went back to the car and refocused, sorted through, sized down, and repacked all of the many supplies and props that I’d brought along (I was prepared for just about anything), and then trundled off to The Compass, a central meeting area and crossroads right in the middle of campus, with a fanny pack full of red paper napkins roses, my red bowler, and a water bottle. RNR and “smiles to the rescue” would take the shape of red roses, supportive and encouraging words, and hugs to help UCC take another step in the healing process.
Five and a half hours – and about 140 hand-twisted red roses and numerous conversations – later, the foot traffic had thinned, all the “I am UCC #uccstrong” t-shirts distributed, warm thank you’s exchanged, many questions about Red Nose Response answered, and my left arm biceps cramped and thumb and index finger bruised from the rose twisting (yes, I admit, I am a wimp when it comes to non-stop, marathon napkin rose production!), so I hit the road with a warm glow from having helped out, even in a small way, along with my PB&J, Eddie Vedder, and open windows in the hope I could fight off exhaustion until I arrived safely home in Salem.
Which I did . . . barely . . . and after unpacking, slid into a power nap with my dogs until my wife came home from subbing and we could share stories about how our respective days went. Mine had been pretty rewarding and cool and exhausting. But the real story was the strength of heart at UCC.
Next, I’ll talk about how and how quickly the Red Nose Response to Umpqua Community College came together.
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