One of Doris Hale’s first memories as a little girl is of airplanes swooping low over cotton fields in Alabama.

“I was born Nov. 30, 1965,” she said. “My mother worked in the fields, and we stayed on people’s places.”

Hale walks with a cane and recalls getting sprayed. And not just once.

“The airplanes would come down real low and spray that cotton poison on you, and we were born with deformities — arthritis, allergies, stuff like that,” she said.

It’s an environmental disaster that has plagued generations of families in Selma. The effects of insecticide sprayed indiscriminately in the cotton fields when Hale was a child have been passed down from mothers to children who’ve never set foot in the fields.

A more visible disaster weighed on people in Selma on Jan. 12, 2023, when a tornado tore across the city, staying on the ground for almost 23 miles with wind speeds up to 130 mph.

Hale stayed in her home and believes she received a message from God that it wasn’t time to die.

“It’s been 59 years, and every year that passes, I get closer and closer to the Lord, and you can see he gets closer to me,” she said.

But her small home, which sits only 50 yards from the railroad tracks on the edge of Selma, was nearly crushed. On March 20, she stood in the yard as volunteers from Disaster Aid Ohio, which works under the Mennonite Disaster Service umbrella, repaired her home.

It’s the only home she’s ever owned, and it’s the only place she wants to be.

“The Lord not only gave me a house, he gave me a home, and words cannot express how I feel,” Hale said. A train rushed by, nearly drowning out her next words. “I’ve been listening to that train since I was a little girl. I’d say to my mama: I won’t go to bed until I hear the train.”

Gid Yoder, Disaster Aid Ohio project director, estimated that Hale, who is living with family members in Selma, will be able to move back into her house by summer.

She’s so happy she can’t contain it.

“Lord, have mercy, if I had a million, trillion, zillion dollars and could be any place on this Earth right now, I’d be right here today,” Hale said.

The first thing she’s planning to do when she moves in is to kneel on the step and pray.

“Then I’m going to fix a bacon cheeseburger, curly fries and a double glass of cherry Kool-Aid,” she said.

Yoder finished checking on the progress volunteers made in Hale’s house and turned to say goodbye. It’s not easy to leave Doris Hale, especially when she’s in a mood to pray.

“Someday, we’ll all meet up in heaven,” Yoder said.

“We don’t want to go just yet,” Hale re­plied. “But be ready. Stay prayed up.”