It would be complete negligence to go without mentioning the flood in my hometown of Minot, ND that began it’s rapid ascent several weeks ago. My aunt Kelly recently sent me this photograph of a Minot neighborhood that was hit especially hard by the water. The yellow arrow is pointing at her (and my mother’s) childhood home located a block from the Souris “Mouse” River. Thankfully Grandma moved out of the house several years ago and is safely situated in a home on the hill, but it saddens me to see this image and recall the decades that I spent visiting Grandma’s home. She had gorgeous flowers lining the boulevard and poking through the cream picket fences, arched doorways and all sorts of fun nooks. There was a playhouse in the backyard by the garden — a miniature version of the house itself — that became a playtime dwelling for all my siblings and cousins. The backyard patio held countless back-to-school barbeques, birthdays and celebrations. I will never forget running to the basement to play the pinball machine, or yelling down the laundry chute from the top floor to a cousin in the basement.
I had to store a lot of these memories when Grandma moved after Grandpa’s passing in 2003, but seeing the home under water has resurfaced many of the memories. Things won’t be the same for Minot and all those affected, and my thoughts go toward their wellness; I hope that amidst what was lost, people might somehow find peace of mind, optimism and resilience.
I am so grateful that my loved ones — parents and grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings, cousins and friends — have largely avoided the impact of this tremendous outpouring. I have heard the good and the bad. One of my good friends that’s been with me since Kindergarten called me up amidst the water’s rising. Sobbing, she pleaded for me to tell her that everything was going to be okay. She later told me that her house was swallowed by water clear to the eaves. How do you start over from there?
Some 12,000 people are out of a place to live and the reality hasn’t even begun. When these people enter their homes, businesses, parks, schools and churches again they’ll discover a shell of their lives, water-logged and stained. They have to find a way to tear down, rebuild or restore. It tears me up to think of this place I’ve weaved through nearly every street of as destructed.
Please continue to keep the good people of Minot in your thoughts and if you can give, give what you can — they are fighters!
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