Free The Glory of Green by Judy Christie

asked.
    The thought of doing a Monday paper had not crossed my mind, and my spirits soared—then sank. The staff was exhausted after only a day, and we had spent a huge chunk of our minuscule budget on the extra. I looked around the table.
    "Let's do another special edition," Katy said. "People need to know what's going on."
    "I'll call our main advertisers and see if they'll sponsor it," Linda said. "It'll be a public service."
    Molly had been resting her head on the table and looked up. "I can lay it out. School's out for spring break, and I don't have many hours at the Pak-N-Go."
    "We're on the priority list for power, so we may luck out," Stan said.
    "We have to pace ourselves," I said, "or each of you will burn out within a week. Tammy, organize a photo plan. Linda, list the correspondents and figure out how we can utilize them.Their voices are crucial. Iris Jo can figure out how we're going to pay for all this. Alex, go home and take a nap. See you back at seven p.m. Grab news nuggets anywhere you go."
    We would not be outdone by out-of-town journalists thinking they could take over our turf.

    I walked over to the command center in the middle of the afternoon to establish my presence as a journalistic force to be reckoned with. The air was crisp and clear, the sun shining. It was about as different from the night before as possible.
    The mayor was sitting on a bench to the side of the courthouse, a baseball cap and oversized windbreaker on. Her dressy skirt stuck out from the hem of the jacket, and she had on three-inch pink heels. If I had not found Holly Beth in a tree the night before and seen my house blown away, the sight would have stunned me.
    "Running from the law?" I asked, sitting down next to her.
    "From the press," she said. "I had no idea you people could be so annoying."
    "Sorry. Comes with the territory."
    "They're reporting the most outrageous things I've ever heard," Eva said, "and making us look like a cross between The Beverly Hillbillies and Sanford and Son."
    "They won't stay long. They have short attention spans.We'll be old news in a day or two. They'll be off to cover a politician in a sex scandal or movie star sighting."
    "I sure hope so. We need to feed people, find more drinking water, and get the electricity back on. I don't have time to fool with questions like, 'Mayor Hillburn, what does it feel like to see your town blown away?' What kind of idiotic question is that?"
    "You've hardly taken a breath since it hit," I said. "You're handling this like you're a disaster pro, but you've lived here most of your life, have your hand in every part of Green. How does it feel?"
    "My heart is broken, and I'm trying to hold it together for people who need me." She glanced around as though to make sure no one was looking. "I'm wearing a disguise to keep from talking to reporters, spilling my guts to my newspaper owner on a bench that wasn't here yesterday, and wishing I could go home and walk Sugar Marie."
    "I can't get my mind around how we'll ever get Green back to where it was. Where are all these people going to live? Where am I going to live?" I asked.
    "This will take every one of those leadership bones you've got in your body, Lois. Green can't do it without you and the Item."
    "We couldn't do it without you," I said, standing. "By the way, where did this bench come from?"
    "I have no idea."

7
    Sondra Chaffin wants to thank all those who found homes for her daughter's pets after her daughter's tragic death. "I'm thankful to announce that Happy Girl was placed with a woman in my Sunday school class who had been praying for a new dog since the death of her June Bug in the winter." Donations to the animal shelter of your choice would be greatly appreciated.
    —The Green News-Item

    G reen needed a miracle.
    The late afternoon sunlight lit my office with a golden glow, and I abandoned the writing tablet on my desk and walked to the window, gazing sadly at the broken trees and noticing debris on