Welcome to A Habit of Hope — a weekly practice of optimism and joy. We get inspired, there’s music, and use a set of tools for community and accountability.
Before we get going, I want to alert you to an action that’s coming up. I hope you’ll participate.
It’s one thing to say “the people have the power,“ and it’s another thing to show it. So: whatever you need to spend money on, do it before or after February 28. And if you absolutely have to shop, shop local and with cash.
It’s not so much that we’re going to make a financial dent. (Although, Amazon makes $230 million a day so it actually could make a bit of a dent.) It’s to demonstrate that when we all organize together, we have more power than we know.
Please join in and pass this on. Please and thank you!
The Flood
Inverness, California, a bit over an hour north of San Francisco, sits on the shore of Tomales Bay, which spreads out along the San Andreas Fault — the lush green west side is on the Pacific Plate, and the golden hills of the mainland are on the the North American Plate.
It’s a magical, isolated haven to ranchers, hippies, environmentalists and, more recently, foodies and a few tech millionaires — with Point Reyes National Seashore stretching beyond it into the misty sea.
I was a hippie kid in the Seventies there. See?
A few years after I moved away was the Flood of 1982.
Like much of California, West Marin County is prone to wildfires and mudslides, and residents of the area routinely prepare for such things. But in 1982, there was a flood of biblical proportions, so much so that the storm has its own Wikipedia page. Thirty three people died. Houses were destroyed. Roads were washed out. Between January 3 and 5, sixteen inches of rain fell on Marin County, but in the microclimate of Inverness? Eighteen inches in just a few hours. The devastation was enormous.
Inverness was cut off from the outside world. The phones and power were down for days. The water system was out of commission. The residents of my old hometown were on their own. And this was, of course, before satellite uplinks and the internet.
Like neighbors after any disaster, they marshalled their resources and jumped in to help each other, in the way Rebecca Solnit describes in A Paradise Built in Hell.
The volunteer Fire Department rescued folks from their homes. The Inverness Store gave away all the canned goods on their shelves. The ranchers out on the Seashore brought in bulldozers. Neighbors fired up their Ham radios.
And a journalist named Elizabeth Whitney — friend of my dad, writer for the Point Reyes Light — had a typewriter. And I’m not sure, but I’m guessing it was the Inverness School, my third grade alma mater, that had a mimeograph machine. Liz jumped in, two days after the storm, to publish a daily newspaper for the community, a newspaper that existed for eighteen days.
Weather reports, poetry, art, quotes from locals — this newspaper kept the community informed and connected through a chaotic, scary time.
According to Under the Gables, from the Jack Mason Museum of West Marin County:
“The Inverness Daily News published its first issue on January 6, just two days after the big storm of January 4. Inverness was struck with record rains, epic mudslides, and flooding that effectively rendered the village of Inverness an island. Founded and published by Elizabeth Whitney from her office above what was then Inverness Pizza Company, the paper ran for 18 consecutive days, and is widely believed to be the first and only time that any village in West Marin has had a daily paper.
The Inverness Daily News documented the tremendous outpouring of community cooperation, at the same time it facilitated much connection and support. In the paper, residents of Inverness’s isolated neighborhoods, tucked into valleys and atop ridges, could learn the status of services, meals, supplies, utilities, and financial assistance offered by aid organizations and even neighbors. They even threw a de-stressing party at the Dance Palace a few weeks into recovery efforts.”
This is Liz:
Why do I bring this up? Well, we are living through an era that may call for some similar creative, effective efforts. And, as Liz said about that time:
“During the storm the networks that broke down were the roads, the power lines, the water pipes, the telephone wires and the propane connections. The networks that held were the networks of friends and neighbors.”
Music
Let’s go with The Four Tops. What better song has ever been written about being there for each other? (The David Letterman Show won’t allow embedding the video on Substack, but click this link to watch. It’s a great version of “(Reach Out) I’ll Be There.”
A Habit of Hope
Reminder: I just finished creating the tool I’ve been promising — a Habit of Hope Journal! Feel free to download it for your own use in a practice of optimism and joy. And feel free to comment in the chat about how it’s going!
Thank you, so much, for subscribing, and please feel free to pass this on. And if you’re interested in my work as a performer and songwriter, come visit my website!
xo Rain
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