Relief, Rebuild, Regulate

Posted by John

More than a week removed from the rain and flood and we’re still trying to put it all in perspective. It seems with every day comes news that something else in town was destroyed or someone else lost everything to the water. But just like every day brings new bad news, it also brings amazingly good news. Stories of people that survived if only by boat; Condo’s that were completely untouched even though their neighbors a stone’s throw away were under 4’ of water; Wading waste deep to retrieve a wedding ring forgotten in a submerged house; The musician who lost everything on the first floor of his house, both his cars, and his garage-turned-music studio, but who was just thrilled that he saved his favorite guitar.

What’s truly amazing is to talk to the people who lost everything because we’ve yet to meet anyone who feels sorry for themselves. Quite the opposite in fact. People recognize the hardship but they’re quick to laugh about it, accept it for what it is, and move on. Even in the face of getting screwed over by mother nature, a contractor, their insurance company, or lack of insurance, these people are just ready to move forward. It’s not possible to count the number of times that instead of wallowing in misery someone says, “Well, I can’t wait to pick out tile for the kitchen now,” or “I absolutely hated that couch, I look forward to a new one,” or, “At least all the moles in my yard are dead now.” It’s amazing.

The week hasn’t been easy for anyone though, even those not directly affected by the floods. Power outages here, closed roads there, and a looming clean water shortage. One of the two water treatment plants was submerged by water and the second was only barely saved by more than 400 prisoners who volunteered to sandbag around the clock to keep the other treatment plant dry. The news came out almost immediately that we needed to start conserving water and use it only for essential purposes – cooking and drinking. Even then, I still saw some ass clown cleaning off his little red sports car at the car wash, or some douche lick power-washing his driveway to clean off the debris. It’s at times like that when I wish the world would appoint an individual to regulate stupidity and it’s at times like that when I wish that person was me. I would go around as some sort of hybrid between Dog the Bounty Hunter, Sylvester Stallone in the movie Cobra, Jason Bourne if instead of the CIA it was stupidity that turned him in to a cold, ruthless killing machine, or Bruce Willis in any role he’s ever played in any movie, looking for people driving Chevy Suburbans during fuel shortages, or watering their lawns during a water crisis, or eating McDonalds, and I would regulate stupidity like a seriously righteous badass motherfucker. “Excuse me sir, I couldn’t help but notice that you’re washing your expensive sports car whilst we are experiencing a county-wide water shortage. Are you aware that water is to be used only for drinking or cooking?... You are aware of that?... I see. Well then, why are you here wasting water to wash this vehicle that’s clearly compensating for your small penis?... Oh, it got a little dirty after all the rain this weekend?... Hmm, I see. Well…” BOOM! “Oh man, I really didn’t want to have to punch you in the goddamn throat like that but your stupidity gave me no choice. Wait, what’s that? Are you trying to speak?... Oh, are you trying to tell me to fuck off? Well then…” BOOM! “Again, I’m sorry I had to punch you in the throat a second time but your stupidity is just too overwhelming. When you eventually regain the ability to speak I’ll expect you to apologize for all your past transgressions because if you don’t I will come back to remove your gallbladder through your nostril with a rusty meat hook. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to go introduce a woman to the concept of contraception or the heavy-handed fist of Stupidity Regulation.”

On Saturday we joined up with a massive volunteer crew to help clean up the neighborhood. It was awesome to see hundreds of people descend on our little area of town, some of them not even from around here, just willing to help out wherever they could. We would just bounce from house to house and help the homeowners out with whatever they needed. Throwing out saturated furniture; ripping out drywall or insulation; removing a 100 lb, 6”x6” railroad tie that somehow ended up on top of a carport. It was brilliant. And even people that couldn’t contribute with demo or heavy lifting were doing everything they could. A whole troop of girl scouts (what do you call a group of girl scouts? A troop? A gaggle perhaps? A pod? A murder of girl scouts?) came through with bottled water, cookies, fruit, sandwiches, whatever. I think I ate like 7 goddamn bananas because every time I turned around there was another kid offering me one and I absolutely couldn’t refuse. And all the while we were meeting amazing people. Volunteers, victims, whomever. It was that whole shared human experience thing again.

Here is a sampling of just a few of the craziest stories we’ve personally heard:

-A young couple in our neighborhood just went into contract to sell their house two weeks ago and were in a contingent contract to buy their dream home in Brentwood. Then the floods came, filled their house up, negated the contract for the sale of the home, and in turn voided the contract on their future home. What an absolute kick to the groin. Now they have two small boys in a house just a tad over 1,000 SF that they have to disembowel, rebuild, and somehow try to sell again. How do you sell a house that was just ruined in flood? I don’t care if the likelihood of it ever flooding again is 1 in 1,000, who is ever going to take on that risk?

-A woman in our neighborhood, who I met once randomly through work, was able to escape the floodwaters in her car but her single-story house was ruined like so many others. Having made it through the flood she was sitting in her car in the driveway this past Friday when a tree suddenly fell on her car! While she was in it! I’m not making that shit up. She survives a flood only to see her house ruined, then in the freakiest of freak accidents a goddamn tree falls on her car while she’s in it! I can’t fathom that kind of luck. Or bad luck. Which is it? Can you imagine that call to your insurance agent? “Yeah, hey Bill. I know we just talked the other day about how my house and all my possessions were completely ruined, but you will not believe what just happened… No, seriously, you will not believe this…”

-We joined a group of volunteers on Saturday at the house of an 82-year-old woman who was a hoarder. Now, I’ve seen the show on TV a few times but never really gave much thought to the fact that hoarders do in fact exist. Believe me now, they do. This woman had been in her house since the 60’s and had it filled to the brim with thousands and thousands and thousands of things. All kinds of things. Dolls, jewelry, crafts, buttons, letters, books, tea cups, photographs, statues, rocks, clothes, tools… it was so far beyond anything I could ever imagine. After the waters receded her family came in and spent the week removing everything from her house out into the yard. By the time I got there mid-morning on Saturday dozens of volunteers had already been meticulously going through and categorizing all of the possessions into piles that could be salvaged and piles that couldn’t. Then I spent the next four hours, along with 50 other people, removing items that had been ruined by the handful, armful, garbage bag full, and wheelbarrow full. In addition to the house she had a garage and three separate storage sheds, all full to the brim. Furniture, yearbooks from the 40’s, National Geographics from 1918, coins from the 1800’s, a collection of A-Team TV trays still in the plastic wrapping, photographs and photographs and photographs. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not entirely sympathetic to the idea of someone who hoards every item they’ve ever come across in their entire life. I just want to dismiss it as crazy, but that’s just it – calling it crazy is just dismissive and certainly doesn’t help someone get over the psychology of it; especially someone who has just lost absolutely everything. It was necessary for this woman to see everything thrown away but there were a few things that were devastating for anyone to part with – her deceased husband’s army uniform and bomber jacket, a letter he wrote to her on their 31^st anniversary, original copies of classic novels, photographs from decades long gone… but it all had to go. And the thing was, you will never find a sweeter woman. She made everyone sign her journal so she could be sure to get out thank you cards and she was already talking about moving back into her home when it is fixed up – the home that contained all of her possessions that are no longer, and the home in which she nearly died.

It was so fitting to summarize the overall experience of the past week that at the end of the day on Saturday we were walking away from the old woman’s house and saw a sign that someone had found among all the stuff and set out on her porch that said:

“Never, Never, Never Give Up.”