Yesterday’s travels took me west on 54 to Greensburg, Kansas. This is the town that was basically ripped up and thrown off the map by a tornado in early May. There used to be 1600 people living here. Word is maybe half will try to move back; most of the older folks have already permanently relocated. Only when I was in New Orleans after Katrina have I seen such destruction. House after house was leveled to its foundation. The tops of trees were shorn off.
I checked in at the volunteer tent to see if there was anything a woman passing through town for a few hours might be able to do to help. Turns out they could have used me for some heavy manual labor; it sounded like more than I could really handle. So I wandered around what was left of the place, my jaw basically on the ground, my camera raised to my eye only a few times.
From there, I meandered north and east toward Lindsborg, Kansas, where I settled in for the evening. The deep green prairie of the Flint Hills that I experienced the day before had given gave way to expanses of corn, wheat and, if I was lucky, sunflowers.
outside Greensburg, Kansas
near Sterling, Kansas