"We better go inside to eat", Meg said, "it's about to pour out here"! The burgers and chicken quickly scarfed off the grill, lid down, hit the kitchen, and the sky opened up.
Rain had been heavy off and on all day long. Tuesday June 27th was a wet and dreary day, and now it looked like the Weather Channel girl was right. There would be flash flooding, and some property damage in lower areas. Rivers would exceed flood stages, so tie down the wagons and prepare for a wash out. Rain it did, like this writer has never seen in all his years.
Two hours later, at about 9:00 PM, heavy footfalls on the porch, hammering at the door, and a loud authoratative voice advising all inside to pack up and get out. The fire station on Route 7 is the offered refuge, and in 5 minutes, Dad, Mom, Ben, and Ashley along with big dog and ankle biter are in the rigs and splashing down the street which has suddenly become a river. Bumping over the debris and logs washed down by the deluge, the Dakota has no problems. The Beetle is a boat, pushing water ahead of it's headlights, to the safety of the local convenience store parking lot. That gave me a new appreciation for both the presence of and need for 'convenience' stores. It was truly an island in the lake which Sanitaria Springs had become. Ben's little Mazda, is taller, and he had no problem making it to a friend's house on higher ground to spend the night cozy and dry.
But, I'm me! The meaning of that, as you get to know me, is that nothing seems in kilter, and each step is 1/4 out of step with the world's stride. Only free place I can think of to hole up for the night is my reliable and blessed ex-wife's home far from streams and rivers. We called her from the road, wipers making no difference, and she agreed to put up with us. Big dog, Murphy, wasted no time in making his presence known. Murf greeted our hostess with his huge happy grin, and immediately dropped a steamy pile, quickly seeping into her kitchen carpet. He knows how to show his appreciation. Spending a half hour cleaning the mess took my mind off my house's immenent destruction at Mother Nature's hand. How did Murf get so wise?
After a night of weather forecasts on TV, sleeplessly watching the rain fall, and trying to be sure the dogs didn't consume Pat's stash of chow, dawn finally broke to the same downpour we felt the night before. The most important day of the year at work, had dawned and I was going to have to be late or not show at all. Your reporter was torn between the duty of family and the obligation of his job. Only one decision was possible, and I called the boss with the bad news.
By mid morning, I felt it had eased up enough to make travel possible, with great caution. The county had closed all the roads and banned all travel. Only essential persons would be allowed to drive anywhere, and in my position, I fit the description. I had to head back to the Springs for a change of clothes, my shaver, and an inspection of the anticipated damage to our home. The Chenango River was covering the parts of Chenango Bridge I could view from 12A, and mudslides were down to the shoulder of I-88. In Sanitaria Springs, the road had become a road again, but a badly damaged one. Many people would not be moving their cars until the 5' wide/6' deep ditch the water had made was repaired. Most residents were leaving the fire station and checking out their homes, to find cellars full of water, backyard pools washed away, and decks ripped loose and rendered scrap. If you lived on my street you had damage. You likely needed a new furnace, hot water heater, and if your laundry was in the basement, a new washer and dryer. Short cellars meant wet downstairs flooring and ruined furniture. A sad and costly day for Broome County, and Sanitaria Springs little creek created no havoc of note compared to the mighty and raging Susquehanna River.
Over 800 houses in the county destroyed and over 2500 homes suffered major damage making them unlivable. There were amazingly no deaths attributable to the storm in Broome County. There were only 15 deaths in the entire area hit by the storm. FEMA turned out as useless here as in New Orleans last August. If you can't help yourself, you better not hold your breath. Many people not only lost their home but also lost their job because that went down the Susquehanna as well.
With our secure New York State jobs, and only a few hundered dollars in damage, Meg and I are very lucky. We have no claims or complaints, but can only do what we can to ease the plight of our neighbors and friends. Very few have no damage or loss due to the 'Big Storm of 2006', and those of us in that category must help wherever we can.
I want to give special thanks to Tom Steen. After the firemen left my cellar as dry as they could, there was still about 4 inches of standing water remaining. I had to go to work. There was no escaping that, now that the girls were safe and sound. Tom took it upon himself to bring his sump pump down from his house, and spend the morning being a truly great friend and neighbor. Meg and Ashley, Ben and his friends, and Tom all pitched in to make it possible for me to go attend to the huge move my residential unit was scheduled to make on June 28th. I arrived by 11:30 AM, and oversaw the remainder of the move, and life for my charges went on unspoiled and unimpeded by the raging storm outside of their protected world.
In the end, the lesson is this: You are never really safe from nature. You cannot possibly forsee or prepare for every eventuality, but you have to try. Get out of the flood plain. Apply for a government buyout, find a sucker willing to buy, but get out! Flood insurance is impossible to get or to pay for if you can get it. Make your own insurance, and cut your losses. Do NOT be one of the Conklinites, or Endwellians who year after year clean up and rebuild, replace their belongings, and move back into their flood prone homes. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
We'll chat after the next disaster.
