Glenn Shepard’s Personal Blog

I was asked yesterday how long I’m going to keep blogging about the flood. The answer is “As long as it takes”. Personally, I’ll be okay. While my losses were substantial, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve been blessed with a successful business, an incredible wife, outstanding employees, and extremely supportive friends, family, and colleagues.

It’s the people who haven’t been as blessed as I that my heart goes out to. So many have lost everything, and many are homeless. Last night on the news, they showed a team of firefighters still looking for the body of a man presumed drowned after his car was found washed away three weeks ago.

I was in Indianapolis last week, and everyone I talked to knew about the Nashville flood, but only because they knew someone affected by it. Every one of them asked why the media isn’t covering it more, and I don’t know the answer.

But I do believe that the national media’s lack of coverage is hurting the level of support Nashville is receiving, so I’m going to keep doing my little part with this blog, to get the message out there.

At least 31 people are dead, and over 30,000 have lost all or part of their homes. Most of them did not have flood insurance, and don’t have the money to rebuild their homes.

This photo is of Johnny Duke, who rushed into his mobile home just in time to save 3-year-old daughter from drowning in her crib from the floodwaters. He saved her life, but lost nearly everything they own. The Red Cross has done an incredible job of providing people like Johnny with food, clothing and more. But even though they provide it at no cost, they have to pay for their supplies.

If you’d like to help, please go to www.NashvilleRedCross.org

Equipment can be replaced, but there were some personal items that had no intrinsic value, but were priceless to me.

One was a handwritten letter I received from Paul Harvey shortly before his death. I knew what a hard time he had been having since the death of his wife, “Angel” Harvey, and had been sending him short notes of encouragement. When I heard Mr. Harvey’s broadcast on her birthday the year that she died, he was as brilliant as he’d ever been, though I knew what a tough day it was for him. I wrote to let him know, and he wrote back with the most touching letter I’ve ever received.

I was going to use his letter as the basis for an issue of Work Is Not for Sissies, but he died before I wrote it. Knowing that it washed away in the flood feels like I’ve lost the last little piece of the man that is most responsible for my career.