The good news is that the residents of the wing of Champlain Towers South that didn't collapse got out with their lives. And, when compared to the people who lived in the part of the building that did collapse - many lost their lives - that is good news.
The bad news is that the part they lived in had to be imploded. So their homes - and everything they had in them - is now a pile of rubble.
Certainly, when compared to the loss of your own life, or the life of a loved one, losing your stuff is a lot easier to deal with. But losing your home, and all your possessions, ain't nothing. (Not to mention the night and day terrors that I'm sure the survivors are experiencing.)
I read somewhere that survivors from the intact part of the building were allowed to go in for 2-3 hours to retrieve some of their possessions. But I think that was just Twitter gossip. I'm pretty sure that the survivors who galloped down the stairs to safety pretty much escaped with what was on their back. And, maybe, if they had presence of mind, their smartphones.
Even though there was apparently no going back, I've kept wondering what I would take if I had 2-3 hours to clear out.
The first thing would be electronics: a lot easier to restart your existence if you have your laptop and phone.
I take one prescription drug - the lowest dose statin. If I thought of it, I'd grab it. But no big deal if I miss a day before I get my pharmacy to replace it.
After that...
Then I'd grab as many pictures off the walls and tchotchkes off the mantel and family pictures as I could gather up in a sweep through.
I'm assuming something of a Supermarket Sweep scenario here: I'd have a large, canvas-sided wheeled cart - one of those construction rubble carts; or am I thinking of the shelf-stockers carts at Home Depot? - to toss stuff into, and I'd just be able to wheel it out the front door where some helpful person would load it into a van for me. (We could worry about broken glass and nicked tchotchkes later.)
I'd then go for as much clothing as I could. Not that I have anything irreplaceable. It's just that replacing would be a drag.
I'd throw my jewelry box on top of the heap o'clothing - again, all this would be in my cart on wheels. Then I'd cover it all over with a couple of the afghans my mother made me over the years.
Next, I'd drag out my Christmas ornaments. All nicely packed away. That would only take a few minutes. Of course, if the tree were up, I'd just do a quick grab for the plastic ornaments from my parents' first Christmas tree, and the two ancient glass bulbs that were from my grandmother Rogers.
If I still had some time - and I think I could get all of the above done in under 2 hours if I legged it and didn't do any hemming-hawing about whether to take this tchotchke or not - I'd throw in some files. Not seven years worth of taxes. But this year's, last year's. If I get audited, I get audited.
Forget about furniture - other than the chair from Aunt Margaret's dining room set, which was just restored; my grandmother Rogers' claw foot table; and one of her lamps.
Finally, I'd toss in my CDs because I have only a few of them on my laptop or in the ether (wherever they sit) - from the days when I had and used an iPod - and I don't want to have to go moseying around looking for everything I used to own on Spotify. I was going to make a note to self to upload my CD collection, but I'd need to get an external drive to do so. Whenever.
This would, of course, only be if I had 2-3 hours notice - let's make it 3 to be on the safe side - and if I was 100% guaranteed that the place wasn't going to collapse in on my head while I was scurrying around saving things.
If I had to get out with my life? Sure, I'd miss my stuff. Possessions do bring a certain amount of comfort and joy. But I'd rather be sitting there ordering a couple of pairs of ASICs and some LL Bean sweats than lying dead and gone under a pile of rubble.
But if I had 3 hours, I know what I'd be after. What would YOU take?
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