Going Home and Leaving Again

This photo was posted on  PennLive.com September 9th, two days after we evacuated.  Notice the clothesline in the photo, it will give you an idea as to how deep the water actually is.  The back door of the blue house has a set of stairs going up to it.  These are my neighbors houses.  My house is actually on the other side of the white house you see on the left.

My husband went up the next day, after the flood waters had receded enough and the creek was back in its banks.  We had water on the first floor of our house approximately 4 inches deep.  Obviously, returning home wasn't an option.  At this point, 3 days in the hotel plus meals was eating through our money.  A friend offered to watch our children for the day so I could go and survey the damage for myself, as well as grab what I could for myself and the children.

I don't know if it will ever be livable again.

Needless to say, there are a lot of swirling questions and not a whole lot of answers right now.  The foundation looks compromised.  My husband battles the mold daily and its winning.  My children miss their Daddy and their things.  We have to wait for FEMA and see what they say.  Meanwhile my husband has to stay at that toxic dump because there is nowhere for him to go and we're out of money for the time being.  He has to work, and when he's there he spends his time packing up what he can.

I would like to thank our local volunteer fire company.  They stuck around during the flood for as long as they could and have been actively helping everyone in the aftermath.  I would also like to Amish community who arrived en force, helping to rip out flooring and a variety of other nasty jobs my husband would otherwise have to do himself.  Some others have offered hot meals, showers and laundry service.  Shockingly, the Red Cross was 'too busy' in other areas to bother coming to our town. I wonder if that's much of a consolation to the people who've been out of power for the past week; a hot cup of coffee and a silly donut can go a long way even after you've just learned your house has been condemned.  That's happened to two houses so far.

As for me and the kids, we are staying with friends.  That's a separate post, with a much happier aura.

Evacuation/Going Home

It's 4 a.m.  Hotel beds are generally shitty places to sleep.

On Wednesday I had 30 minutes to pack for 5 people in one bag and leave my house.  It had been raining so hard for so long my yard was its own little lake, and the creek in front of our house hadn't even breached its banks yet.

But it was getting close.

My neighbor came down in his ATV and took the kids up to his house, while I stuffed clothes in plastic bags, then into a duffel to suffice for who-knows-how-long.  I expected a day or two.  It's now day 3.

It's a lot to remember, to pack all the stuff you need in such a short time.  I got into the ATV and met up with the kids.  We didn't know where we were going, but we had to leave.  NOW.

Roads were washing out and closing all over the place.  One route into our town had already been covered over by the rushing water, which left one way out.  As I drove out of town, the water was rushing toward the road's edge.

We were some of the last people able to leave.

We managed to make it to a McDs, to get our bearings and get the kids some lunch.  My husband managed to get a reservation out of harm's way for us, so we drove down and attempted to settle in.

The road we took to get there is now impassable too, along with many other roads around here.

We've been through a number of floods since living here, most of which the water comes into the basement, recedes and then we go on with our merry lives with just a mid-sized inconvenience.  Any flood is a pain in the ass, but we never felt as though our lives were in danger.  It meant hosing off our already prepared basement then washing the walls and floors with bleach so mold couldn't set in.  We never had to leave our house, the kids could still have all their comforts, and we rarely lost power.  And if we did, it was never for that long.

The problem is that we had become complacent.

The creek was very low, and could handle the rain that was forecast.  But the forecast changed.  Overnight.   And we were now in that ominously darkly shaded area.

We arrived at the hotel like drowned rats and attempted to settle in.  The kids were thrilled, they've always wanted to stay in a hotel and loved all the perfectly packaged little cups, soaps and shampoos.  They took long baths and marveled at all the newness around them.  Because it was different, you know.  We called our friends and family to let them know we'd left and were okay.

My husband's work cell started ringing off the hook.  The fire company was trying to get a head count, who was where and from what house.  They needed to know who they needed to pull out in boats.  The town had been cut off by water on both sides.  There was a mandatory evacuation, to at least bring anyone left to higher ground.

The water had completely filled the basements and had started rising on the first floor.  It had gone from 'no  big deal' to 'record setting'.  We kept a close eye on the National Water Information System website, which gauges data for waterways across the U.S.  If you live near one, I strongly suggest you bookmark it.

The water levels are starting to recede, and this morning my husband decided to attempt going back to see how our house faired.  I don't even know if he'll make it with all the road closures.  The kids are now sick of the hotel and can't wait to go home.  But even if we could, there's no point until we can ensure their safety.  So I guess we remain sitting...and waiting.

Not knowing really sucks.