May 2, 2010. A day that forever changed my life. But not for
the reasons you would think at first. Yes, it was the day the Nashville Flood
came into my neighborhood. Yes, it was the day that I, for the first time,
contemplated if I would live to see another day. Yes, it was the day that
I lost most of my earthly possessions. But now, five years later, I realize that day began a season that taught me
so much that I struggle to even find the words.
It had rained for two days straight. Rain totals were being
thrown around like 12 inches in some places and 18 inches in others. All
in 48 hours. Now I've been in rains like this before when hurricane
remnants would sweep through Maryland. That’s what the rains of this
weekend reminded me of. Also, woke up Saturday and Sunday to tornado
warnings. Pretty much stayed glued to the TV for updates on the warnings
and watch the flooding unfold in areas south of Nashville. Church was cancelled because Franklin was experiencing flooding. So I fiddled around the house. Found things to
do. Did a little cleaning. Went through my closet and dresser,
separating clothes into piles of sizes as I was “outshrinking” my current size. Made piles of clothes… on the floor. Cleaned
out a bureau that I had stored stuff in. Found some old photo albums of
high school and college… left them on my kitchen table to look at later… not in
the bottom drawer where they had been for years.
At about 2p Sunday afternoon, Derby started getting really restless. He gets
like this when a thunder storm is coming. But looking back, this was a
different restless. I think his doggie “sixth sense” had kicked in and knew something was happening. Then I saw on facebook that a neighbor’s son has taken some pictures of our little island
at the beginning of our sub-division. It was underwater. How crazy was
that? I should go see that! So off I went. At this point, it had finally stopped raining. Well, when I got to the front of the
neighborhood, looking back, I can’t believe I didn't put two and two
together. I should have turned around right then, gone back for Derby and
an overnight bag, and left the neighborhood. But even then, as I’m watching the water slowly rise over the tennis
court nets, it never dawned on me that this was going to be bad. I do
remember thinking I should run to the market just up the street to get a couple
cans of tuna just in case the electric should go out or the water should breach
the road (one way in and out of my neighborhood right next to the island that
had disappeared). I mean I was raised in hurricane preparedness. Gotta have tunafish “just in case”. So off I go.
I couldn't have been gone 10 mins.
When I came back into the neighborhood, the water had started breaching the road. I waited for about
30 seconds as another car was coming out. That car was lower to the
ground, so I decided I could get across. In my quick decision, there was
no other option because Derby was at the house and i couldn't leave him there. So I became one of those stupid people and drove through the
water. As I drove through the water, I was making a mental list of what I
needed to grab in order to come right back and drive through this again. Once I
drove through that 100 feet of water, the rest of my neighborhood was
dry. I pulled into my driveway, ran inside and began gathering an
overnight bag. It couldn't have taken me all of 10 mins to do.
Just I’m leashing Derby to take him out to the car, my neighbor
knocked on my door. “The road is closed. The National Guard and
Nashville Fire Department have been called to come evacuate us tonight.” No
clue what I said at this point because my brain was not grasping the words
coming out of his mouth. All I could think of was video footage after Hurricane Katrina. No,
it’s not that bad. I was just out there. We can still get
through. But no, he was right. The road was closed. So while some of
us were out in the street talking through this chain of events, water started
backing up out of the storm drains. It was about 530p at this
point. Fast-forward one hour later and my yard was under 2 feet of water.
90 minutes later. Water was coming through the floorboards and
the door jams. The electric had been shut-off, most likely as a safety precaution. It
was getting dark. I could hear boats all around but have yet to see one on
our street. My neighbor across the street with the boat had retreated to
his 2nd story with a six-pack of beer. The family across the street
had assured me they will not leave unless I’m with them. As the night
progressed and we wait, they were my lifeline to the world. Since the electricity had been turned out, I had to shut my cell phone and
laptop down to conserve the batteries in the case that this endured for a
while. And faithfully, every 15-20 mins, my
neighbors would wave their flashlight at my house just to make contact and assure me
that everything was going to be okay. They were my contact to the outside world
just as those moments when I felt so very alone.
It was so quiet in the neighborhood. I could hear the whine of boat
motors around. Outside of the neighbors checking on me, I don't remember
hearing anything else… except the rush of water. It was eerily quiet. Not
even the hum of the refrigerator or anything since the electric had been turned
off to the neighborhood. So I sang. I'm pretty sure I sang for four hours straight.
As the sun continued to set, I began to freak out a little. I
remember at one point thinking I need to figure out how to get Derby and I into
the attic. How in the world would I bust out an area in the roof if needed. When Katrina footage is the only frame of reference, these are
things you think of. I even wondered if this was the day that I would be
meeting Jesus face-to-face. I thought about how I wouldn't get to watch Kayla grow up or watch my kids get married or what God was going to do through
them. All these things consumed my
thoughts. But only for a few moments and then survival kicked in. I chose not to dwell there. Ok. So. What
do I do when I get out? Where would I go? What should I do about
Derby? The first thing that came into mind was that I needed to call my
friends, Ralph and Joni. At the time, I’m not sure why I called
them. There are other friends closer in proximity that could have picked me up. Looking back, I’m sure the
reason was because God knew they would be the ones to provide refuge during this next season. So I called them.
Ralph answered. I started crying. Told him what was happening and that I had to turn my phone off, so I would call him when
I got out. Apparently I joke with Ralph just a little too much because he didn't think I was serious. He called my friend, Cathy, and told her he thought I was
joking. Seriously Ralph? I’m not sure he completely believed me
until the moment he saw me at the shelter with Derby and a small bag of my
belongings that I was allowed to bring out. Come to find out later, he
and Joni sat in the parking lot at Kroger nearby for a couple hours waiting to hear from me.
At about 11p, I finally yelled over to my neighbor that it was
time. I couldn't deal with watching the water coming in my house any longer. Bo, the neighbor who had retreated with his 6-pack and who lives next to Nate and Lynette, has a small fishing boat.
It was floating right there. What were we waiting for? Well, when I said I’d had
enough, Nate called Bo to come get us and take us out because we hadn't seen
anyone down our street for a while. So, Bo went to get Nate and his
family, then came to get Derby and I.
The water was so high at this point that the boat pulled right up
to my porch. So I handed my small bag to Nate and heaved my very anxious
75 lb dog into the boat. Ironically, Nate’s
daughter is petrified of dogs and water. Nice. Here, can you hold the
leash to my dog while we ride this boat and get ourselves out of our neighborhood that now is flooded with five feet of water? Poor
girl.
I wish I had taken more pictures of the whole event. I wish I had
taken a picture of what now was a shoreline where we pulled up to where there
must have been 50 really good-looking firemen who helped us out of the
boat. Or the one who walked up so confidently and grabbed Derby and
lifted him down to the ground as if he weighed 10 lbs. Yeah, looking
back, I really wish I would have taken some pictures.
From there, we were instructed to walk to a spot up a hill where
buses were waiting to take us to different shelters. This is where my
neighbors and I parted ways. I had Derby and I had to go to a certain
shelter that would take him.
It's now after midnight. Ralph and Joni who were making their way to Old Hickory. Apparently there
were several areas that were flooded and they just couldn't drive straight to me. Close to 1a and they come walking in. Derby
and I loaded up into their van and off we went. I don’t remember much of the
rest of the night. I remember taking a shower because I felt completely
gross. I gave Derby a bath too, well, since I felt gross, he was probably gross, too. I remember crying myself to sleep. I remember being
thankful that God had spared our lives and that I didn't have to leave Derby
behind. I would have, if it came down to it, but I’m glad I didn't have to make that
choice. And I remember thinking I really just wanted my mom and dad to be
close. Then realized that I felt like God was closer than I can ever remember feeling
Him being. And then rest consumed me.
