Richard and Janna are our neighbors. They live about 8 houses down the street. Literally, down the street and around a bend. They've lived here since the neighborhood began. Actually, since before the neighborhood began. "When we moved here you had to have faith to see what could be," Richard said. They were the 10th house on the street (I think now there are probably nearly 100 houses on our street ). When the floodplains were drawn, they were told they were in a 100 year flood plain. By the time that was determined they were "grandfathered in" and didn't need to get flood insurance.
Twice before Richard and Janna were told to sandbag their house. Each time, the rising water stopped rising 15 feet or more away from the house. At 5 am Wednesday, Dec 30, they received a call again from the local volunteer fire department: sandbag, the water is rising. And so, they began. The sand arrived, and so did volunteers. They sandbagged up the back outside wall of their walk-out basement (really, a second living area in their house). Bags went up 4 feet, and triple or quadruple deep. They sandbagged inside the windows of their walk-up basement, and around the door In all, they ordered 15 yards of sand. They moved many valuables upstairs, filling their first floor. And they waited. And the water continued to approach the house. And then it started going up the sandbags. It had not rained since Sunday, but still the waters rose.
At around 10 pm the sand wall was breached. Water came in the windows, like a waterfall, Richard said. They said "goodbye" to their things and went upstairs. When the water stopped rising, it filled the basement to a height of 4 feet. At some point they cut the power. The furnace room was inundated with water. And the hot water heater. They lit a fire in the fireplace. Other new friends brought wood, three loads.
Richard retired last year. He was a teacher. In his 30 plus years he had taught history, and band. He had coached football. Now he works at a local sports memorabilia store. Janna works for AT&T. She's got 2 more years until their youngest son graduates from college, so 2 more years until retirement.
Janna quilts. Her basement was her craft area. She got her sewing machine(s) out. But I cleared out a cupboard filled with fabric. Future projects. And thread. And patterns. And more patterns. Stuff.
When Janna moved valuables upstairs, she forgot the closet under the stairs, where each of her kids had a box of memorabilia. A comic book collection, a sodden mess. Meticulously collected baseball cards, some of value. Gone.
In the back room her husband had his record album collection. 2 big boxes of them. And he had one of his favorite things...his accordion. He got it in 1974. "You can't be the most popular kid at school if you play the accordion," he said, "but everyone wanted me to play their parties. I made a lot of money with that accordion." He cried when he took that accordion to the street. He lost coaching awards, and framed team pictures signed by the players. His family crest. More prized possessions from his years as a teacher, coach and dad. Once when he was standing outside he said to me, "I just can't be in there right now." I'm surprised that he could be in there ever. I think I would be curled up in a corner somewhere, crying.
By the time we all cleared out today, all the sandbags were moved away from the house. The carpet was torn out. The furniture and other belongings were out at the street. They've turned the power back on, but are still heating with the fireplace. "What we've lost is things," said Janna, "but what we gained is new friends, a sense of community, faith in people. What we've gained is so much more."
When I hugged her goodbye this afternoon, Janna said, "You (all of us, not me) brought me my sanity today. Thank you."
At some point, while lifting sandbags, Richard said, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (Phil 4:13). Their faith, though shaken, remains. "If God is for us, who can be against us?" (Romans 8:31)
I hesitate to say it, but today...was a good day. A day that gave me the faith to see what could be...
