Everyone has their own version of the story for the weekend of August 13th. The weekend that changed many of our lives. The weekend that brought one home after another down to the studs at its core. And everyone's stories are true. We knew rain was coming, but we had no idea just how much. And exactly what it would do. Brannan and I built our home during the year of 2012. The largest water level this city had seen to date was 41.5 feet in 1983. The engineers guided us and told us that the flood plane was 45.0 But it had been 30+ years since a flood of that measure had broken into our city. I remember the steel manufacturer asking us how high we wanted our beams, and Brannan (for whatever reason) said "put our house at 46.5...let's be 1 1/2 feet higher than the flood plane." That decision saved the inside of our home.
The rains came and by Friday morning, schools canceled, flood advisories were out, and the Amite river stage grid showed us reaching records within 48 hours. We took the entire day to empty the barn, empty the space beneath our home, move the chickens, and watch the water creep closer and closer by the hour. By noon, my parents home had flooded, not by the river, but by the amount of rainfall that measured in such a short time. Backflow is what they call it. Or something like that. All I know is that an entire community north of I-12, not in a flood zone, flooded before any of us living on the river did. All due to the amount of rain that fell in record timing. Friday was their day. Their homes are down to the studs.
The grids showed the river being at 39 feet by daylight Saturday morning. A measure that we knew was easy enough for us to boat out in our pirogue, to a vehicle we'd park near Florida blvd, and get out for good until the waters receded. We packed our bags and went to sleep. I woke at 5 a.m. and checked the grid before looking outside. Within 5 hours, the water level changed drastically from the projected amount. B took the boat out to check on his truck parked on higher ground. We had lost it. The water was already 41 feet by 5:30 a.m., and it flowed with a current that proved to me it was already crossing a main highway through our city. It was too late for us to boat out. At that point, we had to wait, like all others, for better, stronger boats to come to our rescue. I wasn't afraid of the water level (it still had 6 feet until it would enter our home), I was afraid that our steel beams would give way into the then 12 feet deep waters flowing beneath us. I tried so hard to hide my fear from my boys. They were fascinated that we were surrounded by water. I let it be. We put them in puddle jumpers and life jackets and I made them play with blocks by the front door. I knew that if I felt the house sway, I'd run, and we'd swim. Not that it would have even worked. We all know my swimming skills suck, and I didn't have a life jacket. Within 2 1/2 hours, Brannan's dad and a good friend had gotten to us. I had already cried 4 or 5 times that morning, but at that point, I was so thankful to leave my home. They couldn't take us all, so Brannan stayed back. The three boys, myself, Mr Blayne and Colt headed out. At that point, I saw Florida blvd and all of it's buildings under water. Water was white capping across the highway. People were walking in chest deep water from their homes on side streets up to Florida. Carrying baskets full of items, or children, or pets, even newborn babies. Our plan was to make it to the law firm at Florida and Range. But the boat couldn't take us anymore, since the motor was hitting the pavement. We had to walk. Rain came down, current crossing shin deep over me, barefoot, clinging to Grayson while Mr. Blayne held the hands of Briggs and BK3 - both of which thought this was quite and adventure. For that, I'm thankful.
We walked until we couldn't walk any further due to the water levels. We waited for an army vehicle to come toward us, but instead got into the back of a stranger's 4x4 lifted red Ford Truck, who was also rescuing relatives off of Florida. They didn't even question the space. They just said "get on in.". I cried again. At that point, I began to realize that it didn't matter what was going to happen with that water entering my home. My boys were safe. My husband would soon be safe too. And I didn't give a damn about anything else. That truck drove all of us through the deep waters and fast current to the higher area of Florida and Range. We had made it to the law firm where we met up with Brannan's mom, sister and her boyfriend. I learned at that point that the projected had raised to 46. I knew then, it would probably enter our home. But again, I was too thankful to be alive at that point.
The next few days were a blur. Our day was Saturday. My parents had evacuated to my Aunt's home south of I-12, and it flooded Saturday night/Sunday morning. Sunday was their day, again. Other communities flooded days following due to all kinds of conditions that again, were unprecedented; unheard of. All the while, AT&T towers had malfunctioned and no one could get in touch with anyone. No communication. People stuck in their attics, stuck on second floors, stuck on roof tops, stuck on the interstate trying to leave, stuck in walmart parking lots, stuck at the highest ground they could find, and surrounded by water. Sunday was their day. We worried about our family members, our friends, our new places of shelter, our next few weeks and months. Social media was our only chance to find out any information as the national media could have cared less. And that's ok...now.
It's ok because strangers got in their own boats. Strangers opened their homes. Strangers opened their arms and their hearts to one another and said "get on in." People helping people because that's what we are here to do. When the going gets tough, the people here come tougher, and for one another. That's the truth. As nature has it, the water has gone down. The homes are destroyed. Memories, belongings, keepsakes - destroyed. Down to the studs. As a people, united, we are down to the studs. God has everyone displayed that way. Down to the root of what is important. Shaving away at the excessive wants and desires that now lie at the curb, water logged, waiting to be tossed to a landfill. Down to the studs. I am proud to be a part of this community of Denham Springs. A community of brave individuals who love above all else in a time of disaster. Surely, we can all look for the negative. But all I see is a community of fighters and believers, down to the studs, ready to build back up again. And this time, with bigger hearts - bandaged by the love shown from others - beating with a strong trust that God is with us, for us, and will never leave us. He is helping everyone pick up those pieces that are left. To build an even better life - from these studs, who will remain a part of the old and the new. Pray for our community. For those who's day was Friday, or Saturday, or Sunday. Or any day. Pray for the hearts, down to the studs.
Monday, August 29, 2016
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
4 Stores and a 1 1/2 year old.
It's been six months since I last documented these funny life stories. There are many moments throughout a day when I say "I have to take note of this..." but then, I'm so tired that the only thing I want is for my head to hit the pillow. Today though. I make time.
I was a bit late to the game and waited until last night to call for an early bed time in order to get ready for this wave of re-awakening with school starting. I've been in my 9 a.m. carpool bubble for 3 years now, and this 7:25 a.m. thing is probably what is giving me the most anxiety. I asked B to get the boys to bed early, in hopes of me getting ALL OF US up early this morning to practice. Practice. Yeah...
I can't remember at what point Grayson crawled into my side of the bed, but I know it was before 3 a.m. I woke up around 3:45 dreaming of snakes, and was pushed out of the bed by the 1 1/2 year old. Sweating. Knowing the 5:30 attempt to open my eyes for good was going to be rough, I let that snooze happen until 6:30. Hey, I tried. Ran into the shower, with Grayson crying at the shower door...not sure why, except he just was pissed that I left him in bed with Daddy. One day, I'll be dragging him out of bed...but now. No. He robs me of the quiet morning coffee during the 6 o'clock hour EVERY DAY. Got out of the shower, greeted by the eager BK3 who already had his clothes in hand asking if it were time to practice. He is me made over. Karma. So that went well, even though it was an hour behind schedule.
After a few demands, "MAMA, LECHE!", "Mama aren't you glad, I didn't pee in the bed?!!", "Mama, when am I going to meet MY teacher?", "Mama, does Daddy go to work today?", the boys love to go out on the back porch and feed the cats/Roxie every morning. It had only made it to around 7:05 a.m. and I was making lunches, trying to pour coffee (thanking God it was at least still hot), and daddy B says "Hey, I haven't seen Gray's head bopping around on the back porch in the last few minutes..." Me. Panic. It's way too quiet. After a few minutes of frantic yelling for a toddler that isn't going to respond anyways... I figured I'd go look downstairs outside. Yep. He actually hollered back to me after I called outside "Yeh Mommy!"...it was WAY too far away. And sure enough, the little rascal had gone down 21 stairs, somehow dodged numerous piles of chicken shit, trekked through the back yard to the tractor shed about 50 feet behind the house, climbed up on the tractor (it's a big tractor), and was seated in the driver's seat. The cat had followed him out there to chill too... He was TOO proud. And I was relieved. "Oh, he's just on the tractor." I promise I don't neglect my kids.
Right after breakfast, I began packing BK3's booksack for tomorrow's Kindergarten start. I suddenly realized that I had only bought 2 pair of navy shorts. 2 pair in size 5, and 2 pair in size 6, just to see what fit. Then forgot that I didn't actually buy the other 3 pair of what I'd need in order to dodge laundry 3 times a week. So I threw the kids in the car (not really, even though they probably would've thought it was fun) and decided we could easily find this in Denham. Not. We went to 4 stores. And it wasn't until store 2 that I realized I hadn't brought a stroller. Genius, Carrie.
Store 1: Old Navy.
Briggs stole the limelight here. While Grayson was fighting me to put his feet into the cart's seat, I turn around to see Briggs RIDING the dog mannequin. RIDING IT. I yell BRIGGS! GET OFF THE DOG! (why does Old Navy have a dog mannequin?) and in the exact same second thank GOD for the mannequin not crushing under his 40+ 3 year old self. He responds "Why? I was just trying to be a cowboy." Cool Briggs. No navy shorts there.
Store 2: Kohls
There's a cart here too. Thankfully. But no shorts. But there was a rack of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle memorabilia that Briggs told the entire store he needed for his birthday.
Store 3. Belk
No cart. That's when I realized I needed to eat my wheaties for breakfast. After a few threats of telling the boys to stay near me, ask Bk3 to hold my purse since I had the giant toddler, and making Briggs promise to "walk up", we entered the automatic doors, which BK3 stared at for 30 extra second thinking they were magical. I hauled to the back corner of the store, where I immediately scanned and saw no navy shorts. The super nice older lady who worked there said "Oh! I'll watch him while you look for shorts".... Yeah right, watch Grayson? Sure enough I set him down, and he ran, like Usain Bolt in the mens 100m, setting out a devised route that he had been working on since we walked into the store. The lady looked at me like HE was the crazy one... come on woman. It's written all over him, and every other 1 1/2 year old who graces the department store with his or her presence. Briggs and Brannan got a huge kick out of his lightening speed and ran after him, shouting every audible you can imagine. Now, it's become a game. I then bolted, told the lady thank you, and met them two sections over, where Bk3 was hanging onto Grayson's shirt neckline like he had just roped cattle. Grayson squealing. As I grabbed G like a football under my arm (when he throws a tantrum, you have to keep his limbs away from your face), I looked at the other two and my eyes told them to make a b-line for the door. Bk3 ran in front of me and the screaming toddler, screaming sounds like a race car, while I look back to see Briggs trying to "not step on any cracks." Now, if you know Briggs and how slow he is anyways, you can imagine how slow he is avoiding cracks. Again, we got in the car, buckled, and I just could only think about how thankful I was that I didn't pee on myself...I had 2 cups of coffee this morning.
Store 4. Stage
There was a cart. Thankfully. I asked the first person I saw if they had navy shorts and she was smart. She took one look at me with my 3 boys and didn't waste my time. NO NAVY SHORTS. Ok cool! Do you have a bathroom? Cause I still have to pee. Thanks! 3 boys in a large stall in the womens' bathroom will finish out that day for ya real quick.
Store 5. Walgreens, but not looking for shorts.
At this point, I think the boys could understand the fumes radiating off of their mama. My tone was calm (surprisingly), and they behaved. We were checking out, and a kind man with an LSU shirt, around 75, walked in. He stood and waited inside near the door until I gathered my three from the checkout and headed out. He said "Ma'am are ALL THESE BOYS yours?" to which I said "Yessir, they're all mine" He responds with "you sure are blessed with these fine young men you have."
To which I took a deep breath, smiled, and all of the chaos of the 4 previous stores blew on away. He's right and as I buckled everyone in their seats soon after, I could only be thankful for him. He was sent right there in that very moment to remind me how beautiful these tiny chaotic moments prove to be. I think that those signs of thanksgiving are graciously thrown at us everywhere. Surely, we don't always notice them. Especially nowadays, when we are preoccupied with everything imaginable. I was content in the no-find Navy shorts that I'll tackle again tomorrow, in Baton Rouge this time. And for the rest of the day, thought often of that nice man who helped me see the light in that quick minute!
We start Kindergarten tomorrow. BK3 is more than excited to eat in the cafeteria, and that helps me to calm down a bit. Going to bed thankful tonight for the many men and women who love my boys. The many who serve and will serve as their teachers in the coming years. My heart is full, knowing that there are special people on this Earth who they will admire and learn from, as they grow into young men themselves. Or cowboys, as Briggs chose today.
I was a bit late to the game and waited until last night to call for an early bed time in order to get ready for this wave of re-awakening with school starting. I've been in my 9 a.m. carpool bubble for 3 years now, and this 7:25 a.m. thing is probably what is giving me the most anxiety. I asked B to get the boys to bed early, in hopes of me getting ALL OF US up early this morning to practice. Practice. Yeah...
I can't remember at what point Grayson crawled into my side of the bed, but I know it was before 3 a.m. I woke up around 3:45 dreaming of snakes, and was pushed out of the bed by the 1 1/2 year old. Sweating. Knowing the 5:30 attempt to open my eyes for good was going to be rough, I let that snooze happen until 6:30. Hey, I tried. Ran into the shower, with Grayson crying at the shower door...not sure why, except he just was pissed that I left him in bed with Daddy. One day, I'll be dragging him out of bed...but now. No. He robs me of the quiet morning coffee during the 6 o'clock hour EVERY DAY. Got out of the shower, greeted by the eager BK3 who already had his clothes in hand asking if it were time to practice. He is me made over. Karma. So that went well, even though it was an hour behind schedule.
After a few demands, "MAMA, LECHE!", "Mama aren't you glad, I didn't pee in the bed?!!", "Mama, when am I going to meet MY teacher?", "Mama, does Daddy go to work today?", the boys love to go out on the back porch and feed the cats/Roxie every morning. It had only made it to around 7:05 a.m. and I was making lunches, trying to pour coffee (thanking God it was at least still hot), and daddy B says "Hey, I haven't seen Gray's head bopping around on the back porch in the last few minutes..." Me. Panic. It's way too quiet. After a few minutes of frantic yelling for a toddler that isn't going to respond anyways... I figured I'd go look downstairs outside. Yep. He actually hollered back to me after I called outside "Yeh Mommy!"...it was WAY too far away. And sure enough, the little rascal had gone down 21 stairs, somehow dodged numerous piles of chicken shit, trekked through the back yard to the tractor shed about 50 feet behind the house, climbed up on the tractor (it's a big tractor), and was seated in the driver's seat. The cat had followed him out there to chill too... He was TOO proud. And I was relieved. "Oh, he's just on the tractor." I promise I don't neglect my kids.
Right after breakfast, I began packing BK3's booksack for tomorrow's Kindergarten start. I suddenly realized that I had only bought 2 pair of navy shorts. 2 pair in size 5, and 2 pair in size 6, just to see what fit. Then forgot that I didn't actually buy the other 3 pair of what I'd need in order to dodge laundry 3 times a week. So I threw the kids in the car (not really, even though they probably would've thought it was fun) and decided we could easily find this in Denham. Not. We went to 4 stores. And it wasn't until store 2 that I realized I hadn't brought a stroller. Genius, Carrie.
Store 1: Old Navy.
Briggs stole the limelight here. While Grayson was fighting me to put his feet into the cart's seat, I turn around to see Briggs RIDING the dog mannequin. RIDING IT. I yell BRIGGS! GET OFF THE DOG! (why does Old Navy have a dog mannequin?) and in the exact same second thank GOD for the mannequin not crushing under his 40+ 3 year old self. He responds "Why? I was just trying to be a cowboy." Cool Briggs. No navy shorts there.
Store 2: Kohls
There's a cart here too. Thankfully. But no shorts. But there was a rack of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle memorabilia that Briggs told the entire store he needed for his birthday.
Store 3. Belk
No cart. That's when I realized I needed to eat my wheaties for breakfast. After a few threats of telling the boys to stay near me, ask Bk3 to hold my purse since I had the giant toddler, and making Briggs promise to "walk up", we entered the automatic doors, which BK3 stared at for 30 extra second thinking they were magical. I hauled to the back corner of the store, where I immediately scanned and saw no navy shorts. The super nice older lady who worked there said "Oh! I'll watch him while you look for shorts".... Yeah right, watch Grayson? Sure enough I set him down, and he ran, like Usain Bolt in the mens 100m, setting out a devised route that he had been working on since we walked into the store. The lady looked at me like HE was the crazy one... come on woman. It's written all over him, and every other 1 1/2 year old who graces the department store with his or her presence. Briggs and Brannan got a huge kick out of his lightening speed and ran after him, shouting every audible you can imagine. Now, it's become a game. I then bolted, told the lady thank you, and met them two sections over, where Bk3 was hanging onto Grayson's shirt neckline like he had just roped cattle. Grayson squealing. As I grabbed G like a football under my arm (when he throws a tantrum, you have to keep his limbs away from your face), I looked at the other two and my eyes told them to make a b-line for the door. Bk3 ran in front of me and the screaming toddler, screaming sounds like a race car, while I look back to see Briggs trying to "not step on any cracks." Now, if you know Briggs and how slow he is anyways, you can imagine how slow he is avoiding cracks. Again, we got in the car, buckled, and I just could only think about how thankful I was that I didn't pee on myself...I had 2 cups of coffee this morning.
Store 4. Stage
There was a cart. Thankfully. I asked the first person I saw if they had navy shorts and she was smart. She took one look at me with my 3 boys and didn't waste my time. NO NAVY SHORTS. Ok cool! Do you have a bathroom? Cause I still have to pee. Thanks! 3 boys in a large stall in the womens' bathroom will finish out that day for ya real quick.
Store 5. Walgreens, but not looking for shorts.
At this point, I think the boys could understand the fumes radiating off of their mama. My tone was calm (surprisingly), and they behaved. We were checking out, and a kind man with an LSU shirt, around 75, walked in. He stood and waited inside near the door until I gathered my three from the checkout and headed out. He said "Ma'am are ALL THESE BOYS yours?" to which I said "Yessir, they're all mine" He responds with "you sure are blessed with these fine young men you have."
To which I took a deep breath, smiled, and all of the chaos of the 4 previous stores blew on away. He's right and as I buckled everyone in their seats soon after, I could only be thankful for him. He was sent right there in that very moment to remind me how beautiful these tiny chaotic moments prove to be. I think that those signs of thanksgiving are graciously thrown at us everywhere. Surely, we don't always notice them. Especially nowadays, when we are preoccupied with everything imaginable. I was content in the no-find Navy shorts that I'll tackle again tomorrow, in Baton Rouge this time. And for the rest of the day, thought often of that nice man who helped me see the light in that quick minute!
We start Kindergarten tomorrow. BK3 is more than excited to eat in the cafeteria, and that helps me to calm down a bit. Going to bed thankful tonight for the many men and women who love my boys. The many who serve and will serve as their teachers in the coming years. My heart is full, knowing that there are special people on this Earth who they will admire and learn from, as they grow into young men themselves. Or cowboys, as Briggs chose today.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)