I didn’t realize just how bad it was until yesterday. I watched the news coverage, I saw the photos, I read the blog posts, but I didn’t fully comprehend the devastation from the flood until I saw it in person yesterday.
As I was driving to the Bellevue Church of Christ to meet the other volunteers, I
was shocked to see the mountains of debris at the park across the street from the Steeplechase grounds at Percy Warner Park. Cindy Hall had told me about it just
a couple days ago, but I didn’t understand the degree of what it really is.
We (Katie, Marcus, Marcia, Tori and some other volunteers) were taken by bus from the church to what once was the River Plantation community. Now it’s just street after street of empty homes that have been gutted and are drying out with the help of huge fans. And more mountains of debris in every direction you look.
Our job was to move the debris from the alley behind the soaked homes to the street for pick up. It was during the shoveling and raking and wheelbarrow emptying that all this became personal to me. It’s not just saturated drywall and muddy insulation that make up these mountains of ruined stuff – it’s also shoes and toys and cookbooks and clothes with tags still attached that have never, and will never, be worn … It’s couches and chairs and mattresses and sinks … Even the remains of a piano. At one point I looked down and was standing on a huge portion of the tiled wall of a bathtub, next to the soap holder. It’s unbelievable. These people have lost EVERYTHING that they owned.
I have felt fortunate since the beginning that I made it through the flood without losing a thing. But now I feel even more fortunate to truly understand what happened to so many people, and to have been able to help even the fraction that I did.
As I was driving to the Bellevue Church of Christ to meet the other volunteers, I
was shocked to see the mountains of debris at the park across the street from the Steeplechase grounds at Percy Warner Park. Cindy Hall had told me about it just
a couple days ago, but I didn’t understand the degree of what it really is.
We (Katie, Marcus, Marcia, Tori and some other volunteers) were taken by bus from the church to what once was the River Plantation community. Now it’s just street after street of empty homes that have been gutted and are drying out with the help of huge fans. And more mountains of debris in every direction you look.
Our job was to move the debris from the alley behind the soaked homes to the street for pick up. It was during the shoveling and raking and wheelbarrow emptying that all this became personal to me. It’s not just saturated drywall and muddy insulation that make up these mountains of ruined stuff – it’s also shoes and toys and cookbooks and clothes with tags still attached that have never, and will never, be worn … It’s couches and chairs and mattresses and sinks … Even the remains of a piano. At one point I looked down and was standing on a huge portion of the tiled wall of a bathtub, next to the soap holder. It’s unbelievable. These people have lost EVERYTHING that they owned.
I have felt fortunate since the beginning that I made it through the flood without losing a thing. But now I feel even more fortunate to truly understand what happened to so many people, and to have been able to help even the fraction that I did.
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