Down to the studs...

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.