It has been exactly one week since I returned home to find my city in the midst of a crisis. Last Sunday, the rain had stopped but all of that water was making it’s way into the rivers and they were still rising. It was an odd feeling to watch the waters rise with the sun shining.
I volunteered at one of the Disaster Assistance Centers a few days during the week. I observed so many different types of people coming through. Some of them were volunteers, ready to jump in and clean up the mess; others were people who had been working in the waters trying to salvage anything they could of their homes. The level of community spirit was pretty astounding. Here is a fairly large city population that sprawls across multiple counties and it has pulled together like a small community. I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud to say I live here.
The waters have receded. We have been living with a strict water conservation warning since Sunday. One of the two pumping stations that supply Nashville with drinking water was submerged until just a few days ago. The government asked that citizens cut their water usage in half to compensate. This request went fairly unheeded the first 24 hours, consequently our reserves of clean water dropped to a dangerous level. The city had to shut off the car washes and places that used water only for irrigation purposes. They also asked the citizens to please only use the tap water for drinking and cooking purposes.
“Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink..”
Slowly, our water reserves have built back up to a safe level. Last night, they announced that citizens could begin doing necessary loads of laundry and hand wash dishes. It was such a relief. I think its been hard on everyone to not use the water. Our city, our businesses, and our homes were violated by the flood. The natural response is to want to wash the evidence of the violation away. To make homes clean and whole again.
Metro did provide non-pottable water for city sponsored neighborhood clean-ups. However, individuals have either had to wait, or to live with the knowledge that they were going against the common good of their community by wasting our very limited supply of clean drinking water to clean out their basements or wash down their siding. I’m sure there are many guilty consciences who just couldn’t live with the lack of closure at being unable to wash away the flood’s evidence.
Twice this week I have driven 100 miles to Cookeville to do my laundry at my mother’s house. It will be good to do laundry in my own home again. I am trying to get myself together for a summer tour that is approaching at a very rapid speed. I can count my days left at home on one hand. I have several full day’s worth of work to do in my own home. Yet I feel like I should be back out in the community helping those who fared less fortunately than I did. (Perhaps a distant cousin of survivor’s guilt?) When one is this close to leaving home for a long period of time, every hour in your own house becomes so precious. Though I may feel selfish by doing so, since I am working on an extremely limited timeline for my own home, my time, for these next few days, must be spent setting it back in order.
