After the Flood

Those readers of this blog know that I live near the flood zone in the midwest. While I wasn't affected on a deeply personal level, no home damage, no loss of family or possessions, I still want to tell you a story related to the flood.

I want to tell you what it was like the first day my usual route to work was opened up after the flood waters went down.

As you know, it's still dark when I go to work. My job begins at 4 a.m., so I'm on the road in the dark of night - about 0330. I take a state highway into Coralville and turn east onto what is fondly known as the Coralville Strip. In the last few years the city has done some road work and landscaping, making it an attractive roadway. It's lined with trees and shrubs, some just greenery, others blooming. In the holiday season, the trees are decorated with white lights and it's very festive looking.

I'm sure you saw the pictures of the Strip during all the news reports about the flood. The water was several feet deep - two to four feet mostly, with pockets of deeper water in places. Of course sandbags were piled high and utility power was out.

The first day I was able once again to take my normal route, it was just plain creepy. First of all, it was horrible to smell - all those restaurants along the way brought scents of coffee, and spices, garbage and grease, mixed with the residue of fish and muck that had been picked up along the way. The parts of the Strip on higher ground still had electricity, so as I came into town, things seemed pretty normal, other than the signs that stated the road was only one lane each direction.

As I glanced up the road, I saw a sight that was enough to make me shudder.

You are now entering the Twilight Zone was the thought that popped into my brain.

It was like a black hole, a fathomless darkness that would swallow you up. It appeared that a giant someone had taken a sharp object and simply cut a line across the city, effectively creating a drop off point. A person couldn't help but wonder if there was a road where that darkness began.

I really wanted to slow down to creep cautiously into that blackness. It was so empty looking that I thought any number of things might be lurking there. It was so black it swallowed the Jeep's lights, making it look like a World War II vehicle with blackout lights. I couldn't see the side of the road. I could barely see what normally are the bright orange cones and barrels that construction places use to guide intrepid travelers through the work zones.

It felt like it took hours to drive that half-mile or so to my turn. I was certainly glad I didn't have to drive in a situation like that for very long.

Now, roughly ten days later, there are spots of light here and there on that part of the Strip. A couple of places still have strobe lights blinking - the remains of their emergency alarm systems run amok. Now I can smell the beginning of decay coupled with the flood smells. Parts of the road are simply filthy and in some places wet so mud can spray your vehicle. It's definitely a time to wear heavy shoes when washing the vehicles; the dirt that gets washed away cannot be safe to be barefoot in. At least, not in my opinion!