High and Dry

Well, we've had a crisis on our hands for the past week or so -- my beloved Iowa City is flooded. Thousands of residents are without homes here and in Cedar Rapids. The Coralville Strip is completely submerged. The University of Iowa Arts Campus is underwater as well. It’s the most surreal experience of my young life. Wednesday night I was sandbagging on Rocky Shore Drive, the next morning the sandbags I’d so frantically filled were two feet underwater. It was such a helpless feeling…working so hard to try and protect someone’s life and dwelling only to have Mother Nature give you the finger and send three more inches of rain you way…you can’t help but wonder why this year had been so damn depressing or what more is in store.

Friday morning I pulled on my wellies and left for work, making my way to the hospital via my normal route behind the International Center. By this point, I was walking through a couple inches of river water that was erupting out of the drainage grates. As I walked, I noticed two huge semi trucks parked in front of the loading docks of the Art Museum. I stopped for a moment to watch as volunteers frantically hauled piece by piece out of the museum and tossed them haphazardly in the trailer of the semi. I also noticed the water gushing out of manholes onto Riverside Drive. A horrible feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. All day I sat in my office, nervously canceling patients, reading e-mail after e-mail calling for sandbaggers and volunteers, telling us that interstates were closing and businesses were submerged. I was torn between doing my duty as an employee of the hospital and as a citizen of this community. I stayed because no instructions were coming from our department administration. We had a going away party for two of our staff doctors…I ate three pieces of cake that afternoon because I didn’t know what else to do.

Then the calls started coming in…first from Miss Meliss, telling me that they’d been forced out of the art building when the levees broke, but had managed to save about 75% of the collection. She was leaving town to go to Ohio since her apartment is by the dog park and Idylwild, two areas which remain heavily flooded. She was at my apartment building with our friend Claire and the floodwaters were about a third of the way up my hill and climbing. She suggested I come home. Then my friend Matt called. He had been sent home from the hospital. He was done with his 3rd year of med school without an exam or a final week of classes. He’d been sandbagging on Park Road all afternoon. Panicked, I finished canceling patients and made my way home. It was just after I crossed the footbridge over Highway 6 that my first taste of reality hit – my route home from work was cut off. The sidewalk I’d navigated a few hours before was under water. A lot of water.

I made my way through a different neighborhood to get home. As I walked down River Street and descended the hill, I looked out into a murky sea of river water. All of Riverside Drive was submerged…the lawn of the new art building…the new art building itself…the poor museum. I went to Claire’s apartment, which is also in my building, and sat down and cried with Melissa and Claire. Being art historians, they cried for all they had left behind in that museum. Being a longtime resident of this neighborhood, I cried for my neighbors and friends who had lost their homes. A general feeling of helplessness settled over all of us as they packed up Claire’s car and headed out. I was staying put for the time being. My apartment was high enough on the hill that I would be okay as long as my utilities held up. The funny thing is that three months ago, as ice and snow pounded the Midwest, I cursed myself for living on a hill which was so icy and dangerous in the wintertime…now I’m grateful to live on higher ground. I’d never thought so much before about “the lay of the land” as I do now.

I spent most of the weekend alternating between checking the news and the weather forecast. Severe storms rolled in on Saturday which brought hail and strong winds and, of course, more rain. We lost power a couple of times, but only for a little while. I went out and took some photos of the flooding, but admittedly felt a little weird. I felt the same way after the tornado in 2006—taking photos of devastation make me somewhat uncomfortable. At least this way I know I could never be a photojournalist.

I can’t help but reflect on all of the events I’ve witnessed since I moved to Iowa City…three weeks into my freshman year, 9/11 happened. Then a couple of months later, I watched from my 7th floor study lounge as the Old Capitol dome went up in flames. Then the Old Capitol was rebuilt and reopened. In 2005, I witnessed the demolition and reconstruction of Kinnick Stadium. Then there was the construction of the new Art Building. I watched funnel clouds form over Hancher Auditorium in April of 2006, just moments before the tornados ripped through Iowa City. This winter I slipped and slid on ice and climbed through snow to get to work during one of the harshest, snowiest winters we’ve ever seen. A few weeks ago, I awoke in the early hours of the morning as my windows rattled from the aftershock of an earthquake that occurred in Illinois.

And now the floods.

There’s a lot of work to be done as the waters recede. The river crested yesterday and as long as we stay dry for the next few weeks, we should be able to recover. Keep sending your thoughts and prayers to those who have lost so much.

Here are some links to news coverage and helpful sites:
http://uiflood.blogspot.com/
http://www.gazetteonline.com/
http://www.press-citizen.com/apps/pbcs.dll/frontpage
http://www.kwwl.com/Global/story.asp?S=8449204
http://www.johnson-county.com/emergencymgmt/index.shtml
Road closings in Iowa http://www.511ia.org/
Flood info for Iowa City http://www.icgov.org/
Flood info for Coralville http://www.coralville.org/

Peace and Love