we signed our names,
It wouldn't have been right for them to not have this before they moved to Michigan.
It wouldn't have been right for them to not have this before they moved to Michigan.
As we crossed the river, we were assailed by an unpleasant scent. At first I thought it was hog-farm-smell being blown into town by the breeze, (very unusual, but it could happen). Or was it “flood smell”?
The road still had huge puddles but someone had brought in extra gravel to build up the road (which was actually paved). Then we realized it wasn’t gravel, it was corn! and the smell was from wet, fermenting grain. We noticed the seven large grain silos of a Co-op(by the train tracks), with three or four of them leaning drunkenly. The flood water must have lifted the huge silos off their bases and scattered some of the corn. There were trucks there busily loading the corn that could be saved.
We wended our way to the Losh home, traveling a back way because a lake still covered a portion of the main road. There were fruit trees in their yard and it was easy to see how high the water had been—above the line, the leaves were vibrant, while below the leaves were dead. The water came up to the light on their front porch, and their wind chimes must have dangled in the flowing water.
We put on waterproof boots and rubber gloves and went in to see what we could do to help. The front porch was dry, except for the muddy footprints that came from inside the house. I was totally unprepared for what I saw. The water line in the living room was higher than my head.
A foot higher.
The family had prepared for the flood--after all, they are in a flood plain--by using large metal shelves that went up to the ceiling—stacked with their collections of books, craft items, old records, stamp collections, and electronics—DVD player, etc. We began filling garbage bags with all the sodden, muddy book things. The flat panel TV hung on the wall had a flood line across the front of it. They did save the things on the very top shelf—the things that didn’t fall off into the water when other things floated and bumped into the shelves.
Up to the water line, everything was the same color—dingy brown. With every step, the carpet oozed. We tried to be careful to not get the mud on any bare skin. Who knows what is in it (sewage and farm chemicals just to name two possible things)? And it had that decaying, mud-flat smell. Everyone is admonished to get a tetanus booster if they work in the flooded areas.
When picking up things off the floor, they were so slippery with the silty mud on them that they were hard to grasp with our vinyl gloves. We stayed until we had the living room emptied. The kitchen, bathroom and two bedrooms still need to be mucked out. The basement is still full of water. They have to pump it out slowly, so the walls don’t collapse. I’m afraid I’d be tempted to just walk away from the entire thing and begin over again. As it is, they will have to tear off and replace all the sheet rock in their home, and replace a lot of other things as well.
It was so sad to listen to Rita and Allen say, “Ohhh nooo!” as we loaded up a favorite book or item. Old scrapbooks. Important papers. On and on. They are nearing retirement and had been stockpiling things for their free time. Now those are almost all gone.
Kevin said on the way home, “Well. That was instructive! Maybe it’s time to get rid of some of our stuff. You either die and someone else has to dispose of it, or it’s lost in a flood, tornado, or fire. Either way, if you have too much stuff, it’s too much.” He would be a minimalist if I’d go along with it.
And we decided we’d rather clean up after a tornado than after a flood. With a tornado there is debris. With a flood there is muddy, icky debris.
Another thing I’ve found out—homeowner’s insurance does NOT cover flooding. You have to purchase a rider to cover sewer back-up, but if the water comes from outside you are not covered. The only way to get coverage is from a government agency, and then only if you are in a flood plain and your locality participates in the program. So most people do not have any insurance to help them with costs of the clean up.
And so far, everyone has been saying good things about FEMA and the Red Cross.
When we got home, we had to wash the car to get the decaying corn (and smell!) off it, and I couldn't wait to take a shower. We were lucky in that the day was pleasant--about 72 degrees. How much worse this would have been if it were raining, or hot & humid!
We're thankful for the little things, now.