By: Scott Marder, American Red Cross

Less than 24 hours after receiving the call to deploy, I found myself standing before the ruins of a home in Lake City, Arkansas—completely leveled by a powerful wedge tornado the night before. Lightning split the sky every few seconds. Thunder roared. And everywhere around me, there was devastation.

The Red Cross had been tracking the storm closely. Even before it hit, we had pre-positioned people and supplies across the Midwest and South. But there was no way to know exactly where the worst damage would be. More than 200 Red Crossers across the country were on standby, ready to deploy—and when the call came, we answered.

The house behind me had been home to a couple and their two small children. After hearing the tornado sirens and spotting the storm’s path, they rushed into their storm shelter. Just moments later, an EF3 tornado tore their house to pieces. Cars twisted like pretzels lay scattered across yards and fields. Trees were shredded. Clothing and personal items hung from branches and fences. A red car, now unrecognizable, rested 100 yards away in an open field.

Next door, a similar story. Another family reached their storm shelter with barely 30 seconds to spare. Their house was torn down to its foundation. Tragically, this was the reality for numerous other homes in that neighborhood.

In the days that followed, our Red Cross teams met with many of these families. One older couple had left their home just 15 minutes before the tornado struck. The roof and walls were ripped from their house. Their work vehicles—two tractor trailers—were crushed. Decades of memories, everything they had built together, lay scattered across the farmland behind them. The woman stood quietly in the rubble, still in shock days later, gently sifting through what remained.

Despite the destruction, there were many moments that warmed our hearts. The community of Lake City came together in extraordinary ways. A command center opened in the local high school, and its cafeteria became a hub for donated food, water and emergency supplies. With no power and a boil water advisory in effect, it became a lifeline for residents. The Red Cross delivered supplies there regularly, joining forces with churches, local businesses and residents to provide for those in need.

Neighbors and strangers alike stepped up. At the home where the wedding photos were found, people had come from over 30 miles away to help. Others showed up with heavy equipment to clear debris, expecting nothing in return.

Every survivor I met shared the same powerful message: “It’s just stuff. We’re still alive. That’s what counts.” The strength and grace in those words will stay with me forever.

I returned to the young family whose home I had first stood in front of. The mother and father told me their story while their two-year-old daughter and three-year-old son played nearby. Once a quiet, tree-lined neighborhood with a swing set under a favorite tree, now it was gone. Their children had lost everything—except for a blue plastic bat found in the rubble, which their son waved joyfully as if nothing had changed.

After making sure they had what they needed, I left—but not for long. Back at the high school, I noticed two teddy bears in one of our emergency vehicles. I grabbed them and drove straight back to the family’s home. “These are gifts from the Red Cross,” I told the mother as I handed them over. She clutched them tightly, tears welling in her eyes. She wasn’t the only one.

Later that day, I joined Greg and Shelley, a husband-and-wife Red Cross team, to distribute emergency supplies through another hard-hit neighborhood. Greg had spent 30 years as a firefighter, and Shelley came from a long line of first responders. We went door to door, offering comfort, supplies and hope. In those few hours, I felt a bond not just with them—but with everyone we met.

Then came the rains. As if the tornado hadn’t been enough, more than 10 inches fell in just a few days—over 15 inches in some places. Rivers overflowed. Flooding swept through communities across Arkansas, Missouri, Tennessee, Kentucky and beyond. People who had barely escaped the tornado watched as the remnants of their homes were soaked by relentless rain.

Two days after the storm, another tornado warning sent me and other hotel guests scrambling to the shelter in the building’s lower level. A tornado touched down just 4.7 miles away. Even we, the responders, weren’t immune from the fear that these storms brought.

Halfway through my two-week deployment, I had planned to take a day off. But when I passed through Dyess, Arkansas—a town overwhelmed by floodwaters—I put on my Red Cross vest and hat and got to work. That’s what we do.

We’ve been told the rivers may not crest for several more days. There’s more hardship ahead. But every day, I wake up proud to wear the Red Cross emblem. Volunteers from Hawaii to the East Coast have come here, leaving behind families and routines to help strangers in need.

They’ve opened shelters. They’ve served meals. They’ve delivered water when none was safe to drink. I watched one volunteer buy dry clothes, socks and shoes for two soaked children who had walked through floodwaters with their mother. I saw an elderly woman embrace a Red Cross volunteer who brought her and her husband emergency supplies after their storm shelter was nearly crushed by a fallen tree. I met a woman who had been battling cancer for two years—and took the time to sit with her, just as a human being, sharing conversation and compassion.

Each night I return to my hotel, exhausted—physically and emotionally. But I rest knowing that we are making a difference. And in the morning, I get up and do it all again. Because that’s the mission of the American Red Cross: to alleviate human suffering in the face of emergencies. To bring help and hope when people need it most.

What could be more important than that?