Thoughts — Blog — The Lilies Project

Danielle Kara Bailey-Lash

August 13, 1974 - November 30, 2019

The following are my remarks at the funeral for Danielle Bailey-Lash, held on Saturday, December 7, 2019.

This past Sunday, the day Danielle left us, marks the first day of Advent, which is the first day of the new year of the church. We never really know when we are gonna lose people we love. In addition to the heartbreak, I found peace and reassurance by Danielle leaving us at this precise moment. Thanksgiving had just ended and the new church year had just begun. This moment perfectly exemplified all that Danielle prioritized in life.

First, Danielle loves her family more than anything else. She would always encourage me to prioritize my family when things were busy. Second, within minutes of meeting Danielle, you knew that she wanted nothing more than to be with Jesus in every step of life here on Earth. And as an overachiever, which we used to joke about her overachieving, she was going to be there bright and early on the first day of the new year to celebrate the coming of Jesus.

Nine years ago on this same first Sunday of Advent, I placed a piece of art on the altar of my church in Washington DC to signify the word Justice. At the time, I had no idea what that word really meant. But it was the word for the week and a piece I had been working on. The art was fashioned out of a small book called “Your God is Too Small.” I had worked on that book as a way to pray for Danielle when she had her second craniotomy in August. I did not believe in my prayers. I was terrified of the heartbreak we all feel now.

My God was too small.

Nine years later we can look back on Danielle‘s life and see all of the miracles that happened since then. We are hear today to celebrate all that she accomplished in that time - and before. The miracles that unfolded around coal ash, something that was basically unknown, but no longer. And how she worked diligently to build community with everyone she met.

I was beyond ecstatic on August 13, 2018 which was Danielle’s birthday. It was the first time she spoke in public. At the same podium with Reverend Barber and the former Vice President Al Gore. Although she had spoken out for years in national and international press.

Just a few weeks later, our worst fears resurfaced. Danielle needed a third craniotomy. And in those moments of going to the doctor, SHE was the peaceful presence who calmed the rest of us as she prepared for surgery.

After she rang the bell at Forsyth six weeks later, we were granted a tremendous gift. We began gathering together under the guise of planning for The Lilies Project, a grant inspired by Danielle to make art out of coal ash. It was all that I ever wanted. To spend time with Danielle. And to make art with her and others. When I was with Danielle, as I’m sure is the same for all of you, I felt unconditional love.

Spending time with Danielle was all I ever wanted in PE everyday of middle school when we walked around the track together or made up silly games with the basketball. It was all I ever wanted when we served as statisticians and mat maids together when I cared nothing about sports. And it was all I ever wanted when I came home from DC and we went out to eat with Jennifer. This last year felt amazing to have spent so much time with Danielle.

A few years ago, I read a story of a small group of people who gathered in a church basement in East Germany. They visualized the Berlin Wall falling. As we know, that happened. The faith of those people and my blossoming faith after witnessing a great unfolding of change, alongside Danielle’s steadfast faith, made me certain the our prayers mattered. My prayers matter.

So we gathered at the library each month with a small group of people - Django, Tammy, David, Leslie, Johnny, Christine, Bryan and others. We talked about our vision for what life will be like after coal ash. We also dreamed about where we wanted to place the art that we were planning Danielle’s persistence and diligence was exactly what we needed to keep us focused on our priorities.

We were also successful in our advocacy. We were part of a larger statewide effort to convince the governor to demand that that all of the coal ash be cleaned up. And when we got the good news, people from across the state came and celebrated with us at Southeastern, the very place our friendship began.

Danielle, Johnny and I always concluded each meeting with a trip to El Cabo where we split a side of avocado. We would linger together until we did not have any more time before school pick up. In one of those meetings, Danielle shared the most beautiful bit of wisdom. She said “I always expect that every person I interact with is going to treat me exceptionally well. And they always do!” She said it with her beautiful smile and great poise and confidence. I was so moved by her expectations of the best and how she got the best in every interaction in life. I never once heard her complain over the last ten years. Instead I witnessed her persistence in serving others and building community.

This fall during her last months with us, she took a social work class in Greensboro so that she could help others as others have helped her. She wanted to give back. And then finally she also won a seat on the Walnut Cove Town Council.

Danielle is not here with us to see the fruition of all of our work together. But I feel her guidance as plans begin to crystallize. I know that her presence will live on through all of her visions for a better future of clean air and clean water. None of us in this room can begin to comprehend the full impact that she had on our community, our state and our world. But may we be so moved to seek justice from a place of kindness and compassion for others, embodying Danielle’s Christ-like spirit who expects the nothing less than the very best.

Amen

St. Patrick's Day 2018 began with a dreary start. I woke early to make the 45 minute trek from Greensboro to Walnut Cove to pick up trash as part of the Clean the Cove event. It was an easy morning to roll over and stay snuggled up in bed. The clouds were heavy and luminous over the landscape. In fact, as I approached Stokes County in Stokesdale, I noticed that the smokestacks for Belews Creek seemed to be producing large, violet clouds, a site I had never seen before.

As I headed west along Hwy 158, I shrieked out loud as I rounded a curve. There stood a large rainbow streak boldly looming above the red foliage of new spring leaves of a maple tree. It was almost like a presence. I have never had such a close encounter with a rainbow before. Drastically slowing my speed, I realized that there was a complete rainbow in front of me and the pot of gold was next to Belews Creek smokestacks. The lighting of the emissions at this point was like a golden flame. I quickly pulled off onto a side road. I was searching for a clearing where I could see the entire rainbow arching across the Sauratown Mountain range, encompassing Walnut Cove, Stokes County, and completing its decent next to the smokestacks.

Just the day before, my four-year-old had asked me if there was going to be a rainbow the next day for St. Patrick's Day. They had discussed the holiday at preschool. The rainbows, the gold, the leprechauns were all fresh on his mind. I told him that was tricky. Rainbows usually require some rain. They don't just magically appear. But here it was.

Not only was it a rainbow, it was a vibrant, complete rainbow seeming to make a promise to make amends for the weight of over-reliance on fossil fuels. For the hidden health burdens that had been placed on our community forty years ago. It was hard not to cry. It felt like the Double Rainbow Guy, who cried out, "What does it mean?" I certainly knew what I hoped that it meant. That we are nearing a complete cleanup of our community, despite the physical evidence of moves by Duke Energy to begin capping our site in place.

We are one of six remaining sites slated to be capped, even though we are the only remaining site to have proven off-site contamination with high levels of arsenic found in groundwater beyond Duke Energy's property line. Next week marks the three year anniversary of 42 families living on bottled water at Belews Creek out of the almost one thousand in North Carolina. That is if you are lucky enough to fall within the arbitrary half-mile radius that determines whether Duke provides you with water.

I was unable to capture the beauty of the rainbow. Certainly, I have some lovely pictures. But they are faint and pale in comparison to what I experienced in person: the sudden appearance above the flaming red tree, seeing the complete rainbow across the landscape, and even driving beneath the rainbow and seeing it from a side angle. It all felt like magic.

As I continued back on route to the Clean Up Event, a few drops of rain started to fall. There was the rain. I could not wait to tell Oliver what happened and to see if I was able to capture anything with my iPhone. Certainly rainbows are why we should have cameras built into the front of our cars.

As we selected our clean-up route, I originally planned to focus on the Walk Walnut Cove route through London. I am hoping that we will create an audio walking tour through the area this summer. But instead, we were redirected to Highway 65, which is my regular drive into town. We would pick up from Hedgecock Builder's Supply down to MLK Jr. Drive, which includes the recently annexed Walnut Tree entrance. As we waited for the rain to clear, Linda and I watched Chad drive his cement truck to and from the power plant to receive coal ash to complete a job that had been disrupted by the previous weekend's snow.

Once the sun appeared, my father, who has a lot of experience picking up trash, warned that I needed a stick to use. He had one along with a handled bag, which made it easy for him to drop his collection directly in with little effort. He was right. I was starting to feel the fatigue of picking up trash and shifted my efforts to taking pictures to document the event, which allowed me to create a video.

It seems that each side of the road had a particular pattern of trash: approaching town, there were a greater number of beer bottles. Leaving town included predominantly styrofoam cups and food containers. Some of my more poignant finds included:

A new growth underneath a glass beer bottle in a patch of wild day lilies growing along the side of the road just beyond Hedgecock's

A chance to closely examine the mosses and native plants along the roadside that have often intrigued me

A plastic colander was found over the bridge as we approached the end of our route

The colander is a perfect metaphor to describe the current state of our unlined coal ash basins in North Carolina. We have used the colander as a metaphor in presentations. I have used it as part of my prayers and meditations since fall of 2016. I quickly grabbed it and knew that it would become an art project in the near future.

Later that evening as we gathered in Fowler Park, we spent time planting flowers and discussing ideas of other spaces we could plant them. Certainly our entrances could use some sprucing up. We talked to the kids, who were enjoying Fowler Park. And I played around with creating my first video. When I returned home to watch it, I was astonished that it looks like a little green friend did in fact showed up. I pointed it out to Oliver and Lucy as my leprechaun. I have never had anything like that happen before.

Walnut Cove is a tiny, rural town. It has approximately 1400 people living within its town limits. Small events like picking up trash do not feel like they are making a tremendous difference. But as I shared the video on Facebook, I was surprised by the outpouring of comments by people. Many referred to the PSAs of the early 70s to help "Keep America Beautiful." NC no longer funds roadside cleanup by prisoners. We need to hold one another accountable and stop littering. Period.

Picking up trash has a rewarding feeling of instant gratification and gives you a sense of ownership over a small strip of land. In searching for how to heal our massive environmental issues, the notion of intent returns over and over again. Just our intent to clean up our lands makes a large difference. A morning of stepping outside and picking up trash IS taking the action that we need to shift our greater environment to a cleaner, healthier one. It creates a renewed sense of awareness and makes a big difference, even if we cannot clean up larger problems - like coal ash - solely on our own.