Remembering

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 2^nd 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.