Not enough chicks in the world

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We had been expecting a load of new t-shirts from California for a few days. New clothes for flood victims. The truck was supposed to come this morning. When we had some minor league baseball players to unload it.

These are members of the Portland Beavers, in town to play the Sounds. A couple of their players are Vanderbilt graduates and they came over to CRC to help unload trucks. We ♥ the Portland Beavers. Betsy was especially excited about this particular volunteer opportunity. We thought the giant truck of t-shirts would arrive while these boys were here volunteering. Morning came and went. No truck. Boys had to leave.

Early afternoon, when we still had Hands On Nashville volunteers, came and went. No truck. We close at 3 p.m. Truck arrives at 3:10. No volunteers. Three chicks in a warehouse. Not even remotely enough people to contend with a massive donation.

I am not a warehouse expert. Well, actually, yes I am now. You will notice that the dock is a good two feet below the truck.  This would require a forklift. Which we do not have. Not at all. If I could scale the truck I could hurl boxes off one by one, but that does not seem practical. Or fun.

Relationships pay off in the strangest of ways at the most unusual times. Kim decides to call the Tennessean.

Kim and I both know people at the Tennessean for a variety of reasons that aren’t important now. What is important is that we know people at the Tennessean. Kim is smiling while she’s on the phone because there’s nothing she likes better than a big ole problem with a big ole solution she has just figured out. But the solution depends on her friends at the paper. And they are her friends. They come through. They offer to off-load the contents of the truck at their warehouse and then re-load it onto smaller trucks. And they offer to bring a forklift to move the t-shirts from the truck to our temporary space.

We ♥ the Tennessean. In a big way. If you are even tempted to walk by a Tennessean newspaper box tomorrow without buying a paper, we will hunt you down like dogs.

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