Category: Stories that Inspire

It was Day 3 before I made it to Arrowhead Trail and Circle.   I didn’t know many of  the people in this area, so Robbin helped me out as we were delivering.  These homes were in the first line of fire when the masses of water came through.   What I know about the homes in this area are that at least 3 of them were homes of single  moms.

 

Here’s one of the first homes heading down Arrowhead from Lava Flow Drive.

Tori Wangsgaard’s house.  Notice the bent garage door.

These two photos show Bostwick’s house that was condemned.  It is on the north side of Arrowhead Trail right behind the business complex.

Here’s a look into Arrowhead Circle.  The Biven’s house is on the left.  The Biven’s are and older couple.  He sleeps downstairs with a C-PAP machine so he doesn’t keep his wife awake at night.  Their entire basement was flooded.  I know this because it was my privilege to take dinner into them on Saturday night.  My daughter and I dropped dinner off to them on our way to a ball game.  They were so excited to show us their basement, too.  It was down to studs and had fans going.  Fortunately, their upstairs was still in tact for the most part.  They seemed comfortable, but said their dogs were very stressed with all of this.  I found out at my Flood Relief meeting that when the “block captains” went in to their home, they found out there was still some mud and water in the basement.  Being a little quieter, they were not out asking people for help, so it went undetected for a big long.  The good news is that they are cleaned up, dried out and have sheet rock now, I believe.

 

In the bottom of the circle are two other single moms that are sisters.  Here is one of their homes:

 

The Westbrook’s also live in the circle.  She has a preschool in her basement.  Friends and families of her students have been helping her get things cleaned up so she could start preschool in her garage until they can get their basement repaired.  Here’s some photos of their house:

Here’s some shots of the water levels of their home.  Thanks to Martsi Strong for these two pictures!  Sandbagging didn’t help so much.

Here’s a photo on the big Saturday clean up.  So many people helping clean her papers and preschool stuff.

Driving down the remainder of Arrowhead shows the damage to the homes in the direct water line that came off Dutchman’s and through the field by Lee & Karen Frei’s.

These houses were a total mess.

There was some extensive damage to these homes and some of them still have stuff out in the front.

The Phillip’s have been amazing.  I have no idea how they pulled it all off, but they cleaned up and redid things so quickly.  They have had some awesome helpers along the way!

 

Tim and Tammy were living next door to the Taylor’s in her father’s rental.  Like the Taylor’s, they had recently lost their home.  As I pulled up in front of their house on day 2 to let Tim know that my husband would be by to pull their counter’s off so they could try and save them, I saw Tammy walk into a place of shade on the only empty spot on a sidewalk next to her house and lay down on her back.  I could see exhaustion and emotion in her face.

 

I needed to find Tim and was told that he was in his father-in-law’s house next door.  So I headed there first.  Here is Tammy’s parents house when I came up:

Kids from the high school had been there to start unloading their basement.  Just before I got there, a few women who had stopped to help had realized that the smell was really bad and that the sewer had either backed up or broke in the basement, so they had the kids leave to keep them from getting any bugs of any kind.  It was a mess in the front yard, which was still wet and full of mud.

This kind man was power washing some of the stuff coming up from the basement.  Eventually this yard would be filled to the brim with more muddy items from the basement.

(This photo was the next day– Day 3 and there was still a ton of stuff in the yard and it smelled so bad just driving by.  I wondered if they’d EVER get rid of that smell.)

I walked into their house to see if I could see Tim.  What I found was just as sad as the outside.  Trying to find places to put things or even to try and keep your food and dishes was a stretch, but the muddy carpet and floor left me just sad to see all the inside damage.  I hadn’t really been in any houses besides the Dunkley’s at that point.

 

As I walked out that doorway, I saw Tammy laying on her back on the sidewalk.  I sat next to her.  She sat up and I just hugged her and held her as she cried.  All I could tell her was that I knew things would get better and good was coming her way.  She was exhausted and overwhelmed.  Her house was cleaned out except for the cabinets and counters that my hubby was coming to remove.  Fortunately, their house was one of the ones that was helped first, so they were cleaned out pretty quickly compared to the others.

 

She cried as she told me she was sad to lose her grandmothers suitcase and some treasures that belonged to her.  Those were the cherished things.  She said she shouldn’t be sad because it was stuff, but it was sentimental stuff.  After talking for a bit and her telling me of some of the things she lost, her daughter came walking up and asked what she was supposed to wear to school tomorrow.   That shot an arrow straight to my heart.  I hadn’t even thought about that.  Most of the kids that lived in these homes did not have a stitch of clothing to wear to school.  They only that the clothes and shoes they had on the day before.  Tammy was lucky because so many friends from their old ward came down and helped them.  They had taken all their clothing to wash and it was scattered among so many houses.   She didn’t even know where it all was or when it would come back.  (I did hear that some of those ward members went out and bought new garments and some clothes for them all.)

 

A few minutes later my husband came walking up. Tammy took me on a tour of the house to see the damage.  My hubby and his employee, Randy, started pulling their new counters out that they had just installed a few weeks before.   When they unscrewed the cabinets and moved them, I was stunned to see a inch of wet, watery mud underneath them.  (I did not get a picture because my battery was dead.  Still makes me mad.)   I was just surprised at how the mud had seeped into every crevice of these homes– literally between the studs in the wall.  The concern Tim and Tammy had was if they were going to have to pull out the brick wall and floor where the wood stove stood.  They were worried about mud being backed up in the walls behind it.

 

My heart was heavy that day.  So much mess.  So much smell.  So much to do.  I was overwhelmed and it wasn’t mine.  I wondered if they’d find some clothes.  They were all staying in different places.  The kids with their friends and Tim and Tammy with some other family that lived in town.

 

When I was making salsa rounds with Robbin the next week, Tim and Tammy happened to be in the garage at their house.   We had heard some news about them just before we got there and were able to confirm the miracle.   Evidently a family in Country Lane had a home for their son to live in.  He was going through an ugly divorce and was having to live back East because of it.  The house was sitting empty and they were hoping to find someone to keep the yards up.  They offered this house to Tim and Tammy rent free for a few months.  I looked at Tammy and said, “SEE!!  I TOLD you there was something good coming your way!!”   She said, “you know this actually happened the next day after you talked to me.”

 

I still tear up thinking about this whole exchange and the miracle.

 

There have been many miracles among the mud.  I am so thankful that as I sat on the sidewalk that day that I KNEW something good was coming.  I had no idea what.   But sometimes hope is all one needs to believe.

 

 

 

Roger and Jennifer Taylor lived in our ward up until a year ago when the lost their home due to economic difficulties.  They had moved into this rental home about a year ago.  They’ve had some pretty difficult trials over the last few years.  They are dear friends.  The flood washing through their house was just another hard blow!

 

They’ve tried to keep a smile on their face in spite of the fact that now most everything they’ve lost is gone.  It is heartbreaking.  They don’t even have the resources to do much to recover.  The most difficult part of the loss is the journals and scrapbooks.  Jennifer said that Roger was so sad about his missionary journal.  He said it was the only time he kept a consistent journal and it meant a lot to him.

 

I was happy to know that my 17 year old son was one of the ones helping the Taylor’s pull stuff out of their home on the first night.  I think they were able to salvage some of their beds as they were a little off the ground.

 

I found this really nice article that the owner of the rental home wrote for the spectrum.  Click HERE to read it.

 

Here’s the Taylor’s rental home on the second day:

You can see the amount of mud in the front yard and driveway still.  Some kind friends have allowed them to stay in their basement.  They’ve found another home to rent.  Rebuilding their lives is still going to be some work.

 

I’d like to take you on a visual journey through your own home.  Start in your living room and imagine everything you own below the 5 feet level.  Couch? Chairs?  TV?  Heirlooms?  Pictures on the wall?  Lamps? Video console?  DVD player?  Books?

 

Now walk into your kitchen and dining room.  You probably have some big stuff like a fridge, stove, table and chairs.  Maybe you have a hutch with special dishes in it.  Think about what is in your cupboards:  pots and pans, dishes, utensils, cookbooks, food, spices, towels and wash rags.

 

Do you have a laundry room?  Then you probably have a washer and dryer with a bunch of clothes in that area.  Do you have an office on your main floor?  If so maybe it contains files of important papers.  Maybe your office doubles as a craft or scrapbook area.  Do you have a sewing machine?  A computer and printer?  Scrapbook supplies?  Pens and paper?  Where are your scrapbooks and pictures?

 

Do you have a front living room with a piano?  How many bathrooms are in your house?  What is in them?  Toothpaste, deodorant, hair supplies, towels?

 

How many bedrooms do you have?  What lies within them?  Beds, nightstands, laptops?  Journals?  How about your closet?  Obviously there are clothes, but do you have a change jar?  A gun safe? Shoes?

 

Just picture ALL the stuff that is in your house.  Now imagine it’s all gone.  Buried in mud.  Washed away.  Gone.  If you can grasp that, then you will begin to understand what these families are going through.

 

On Day 6– Monday, I decided to deliver some chips and salsa to the families.  As a confession, up to this point I really had not done much by the way of service.  I hadn’t shoveled any mud or hauled anything out of a house.  I had been taking pictures.  And I was overwhelmed.  You see, even cleaning my own house overwhelms me at times.   I think it’s something in my personality, but I really have to be in the mood to deep clean a specific area like my garage or pantry.  I get anxiety thinking about those places that have become out of control.  So for me to walk down into this mess of mud and muck really did overwhelm me.  I would look around and not even have a clue where to begin.  I became VERY appreciative for those who could just see what to do and do it instead of freezing in bewilderment and taking pictures.

 

I realized that I was not alone.  As I visited with different friends, they, too, had felt the same way that night.  They were so grateful for those who could just take a shovel and start somewhere.

 

The other thing that was difficult for me was to know WHO to help.  For some reason, it always felt like if I helped one friend, then I was letting another down.  Bear in mind many of these people that were hit were not only friends, but family, too….cousins of mine.  I wished I could do something to help the masses.  As I rode around helping deliver laundry with Robbin, I became aware of a couple of things.  First, I realized that most of these people had not even left their homes for days.  If their upstairs was ok, then they slept there.  If they couldn’t stay in their home, they slept with family or friends, but were right back early.  Those first few days you could hardly get a car in and out because of all the people, trucks, tractors, dumpsters and mud.  There were a few of families– the Cloward’s, Aikens, and Gubler’s who had set up tables and a food area for volunteers.  Food was being brought in for everyone.  But the homeowners really couldn’t leave.  They were having to tell people what to keep and what to throw away.  Trying to salvage anything they could.  Eating would only happen if someone BROUGHT it to them.  And many did.  Food and cases of water bottles were left at every home.

The other thing I realized was that all the help was going to die off and there was still going to be a lot to do.  I didn’t want them to think they were forgotten.  And since I have a salsa business, I thought I’d drop off some chips and salsa to them for lunch or a snack.  Truth is….I felt guilty AGAIN…. I should be dropping by to wash stuff off or help put something away or clean their upstairs which were loaded with stuff that was being cleaned.  It’s hard when you have to go to work and can’t devote all the days and hours you’d like.  So I took the easy way out and delivered chips and salsa to those who were home.

 

But this day was a day of tears.  As I went into the homes to hand them chips and salsa and give them a hug, a similar theme seemed to happen.  Most every home had one or two people there helping them with the little stuff.  Most of them said, ‘here look at my basement.”  Most every one just randomly began to tear up.

 

It’s interesting when a crisis happens how you can just dig in and do what you have to do.  You go into an automatic mode of working and solving the problem at hand.  But when all the people leave and there is still much to do and you have time to reflect on what was lost– the memories, the work, the life you had–then you just begin to tear up a little.  Randomly.  Out of the blue.  Tears just start to come.  And that is what I experienced on Monday.  I don’t know if they were tears of sadness per se.  There were tears of gratitude, too.  The more I have thought about it, I have realized that it is a combination of both.  It’s like the emotion has filled your body and when it gets to your eyeballs, like a flood ;o), it just comes oozing out…randomly.

 

I’d like to share with you a few of the stories that I experienced that day and some during the week.  I still stand all amazed.

 

Tears flow freely and easily for me now.  I hope you’ll enjoy the stories of these amazing, wonderful people and those hundreds who came to help– those angels here that have come to rescue and aid their fellowmen.

 

Imagine my gratitude when I was asked to serve on the board to help with rebuilding.  No, you’re not done hearing from me yet. ;o)

 

And if you feel so inclined to donate or help these families financially so they can get back on their feet, please click here.

 

Shan & Sue Gubler

Riverfront Circle

Bret & Charisse Smith

 Kevin & Lisa Dunkley

Fackerll’s & John & Gen Grant

Andy & Andrea Schmutz

Roger & Jennifer Taylor

Tim & Tammy Apple and Jones’

Arrowhead Trail and Arrowhead Circle

Lee & Karen Frei

Nick & Liisa Frei — Dutchman’s Market/Cravings

As I went to the Schmutz’s house, there were some nice people on their carport cleaning items.  Inside, Andrea was with her mom in the kitchen.   For Andrea, too, the tears came easily.  The magnitude of what had happened, pondering on what was lost, wondering how to rebuild and bring her kids rooms back and collect her food storage that was damaged was on her mind.  We talked about that.  I told her that I felt pain for her as I stood there that first night and washed volunteers standing in mud, unloading stuff from her basement.

They were covered in mud and slipping and sliding in the thick goo.

They had an assembly line going.  Small items being placed in buckets and then dumped on a big pile of muddy stuff.  As I stared at the back yard and saw the beds and mattresses, I sloshed around and nearly got stuck just trying to get a picture.

As I moved to a spot to get a picture of this huge pile of muddy mess, I was trying to find a place to stand where I wouldn’t get stuck.  The grass was saturated and soggy and the mud came up and around the grass.  As I glanced down at the pile while walking away, I saw sleeping backs, back packs, games, toys….and my heart broke.  So much stuff.  A whole life.  The kid’s life and treasures, it appeared.  I wondered if they would throw it all away or if it could even be saved.

 

As the days wore on, so many people were gathered in their yard and driveway helping clean.  I know it was so appreciated.

 

Here are people on Day 2, just starting to pull stuff from the back yard and start the cleaning process.

They had so kindly put up tarps on the car port to shade those who were cleaning the items that had been stacked there.

A few days after the flood, Andrea’s dad had brought their 5th wheel camper and parked in their driveway for her kids to have somewhere to sleep.  They had been farmed all over the first few nights as they had no bedrooms.  The camper gave them their own little space– and somewhere to sleep.  One of those things we all take for granted.

 

These sweet families across from the Dunkley’s had a huge mess, too.

 

Grant’s:  Everyday I would drive by, there would be so many people in their yard trying to wash off and save whatever they could.  This Monday things had been pretty quiet.  Gen was there with her mom when kind Randolyn Peine came to her door to offer some help.  With so much stuff still piled in the front yard on tables that needed to be cleaned, I knew that Randolyn’s act of service was a big deal that day.  I was so appreciative of all the help I saw there washing and spraying and helping clean things up.  There have been so many.

 

Here are a couple of pictures.  This is the second day and they haven’t even started getting all the stuff out to wash off at the Grant’s house yet.  You can see the bikes and things in the garage…there’s mud still there and in the driveway.  Later that day, people started clearing things out and power washing them all down.

Here you can see a shot down the street– Grant’s and Fackrell’s on the right.  Notice all the people in the Grant’s yard washing things off.

 

Fackrell’s– They have a unique story, too.  They left on a mission just a few weeks before the flood.  They packed up everything they own and put it in their basement so they could rent the top half out while they were gone.   They had actually left the MTC and drove to their mission that very week.  As I said, EVERYTHING they owned was in the basement.  Their whole life.

 

People began unloading things from their basement.  I know my son and his friends were among the high schooler’s that came on Day 2 and helped unload their entire basement.  On Saturday, I stopped by to take ice water to those helping in the yard.  As I went into the back yard, I was surprised at how many people were there and how nice the yard was looking.  The Fackrell’s daughter-in-law, Kylie, happened to be in my old ward while she was growing up and is the same age as my oldest son.  I went to give her a hug.  She was putting treats and drinks out for those helping.  She said she was just spent trying to do all the work and needed a break.  Being able to serve someone else seemed to lift her burden.  She said it was very emotional going through all their belongings and having to throw away so much.  However, one bright spot was that a friend, Greg Bartholomew, had taken all their scrapbooks and photos to his class at the Archive Department at the college.  That would give them a great opportunity to put some of their teaching into practice.

 

It’s just amazing (I know I keep using that word) to see where and how all this help and these tender mercies come from.  So. Many. Angels.

 

 

 

As we pulled up to the Dunkley’s on Monday, Lisa and her daughter were working outside.  Krista was washing some things off and Lisa was tidying up.  She invited me inside to see the basement since I had a sneak peak on the night of the destruction.  As we went inside, we found Lisa’s other daughter, Kara, who was just tidying the game cupboard and helping her mom with what they did have control of–the upstairs.

 

The whole basement was cleaned out and down to studs.  Fans were going, drying it all out.  Back upstairs, Lisa told of all the kindnesses that had been shown to them.  She pulled a check off the mantel for $200 and said an acquaintance of theirs dropped it off wanting to help.  She told them that Kevin probably wouldn’t cash it, and he begged her to because they wanted so badly to help.  The kindness has truly been overwhelming!

 

I told Lisa that I was dropping off salsa because I realized that a lot of them had probably not had time to leave their houses at all.  She said, “you know, the other day I realized that I had not left my house for 5 days.  It was weird.”  They really didn’t.  So much to do.

Here’s a quote from Lisa’s facebook page that she posted the day of my visit:

Tomorrow will mark one week since the flood and my girls both came to help clean today. Kara organized my game closet and and cleaned the bathroom upstairs, neither of which were affected by the flood. Krista sprayed off muddy boots, shoes, work gloves and about 20 shovels and rakes left around our yard and then washed down the drive way for the umpteenth time. Five year old McKenzie folded cleaning cloths and polished the fridge, stove and dishwasher. I took my first walk since the disaster and it felt good to get out of the house. I walked up to the dike to see it all first hand. It is so much bigger looking up from its base than it is driving past it in a car.

 

In all of this, the Dunkley’s have been strong, positive, and still kept their sense of humor.  Kevin found one of their “Home Sweet Home” pictures in all the mess and he hung it on the front porch post the day after the flood.  There couldn’t be more truth covered in mud!  Here’s some pictures Krista posted on their facebook page.

When we stopped into Bret & Charise Smith’s house on Monday, they were just having lunch.  Bret & Charise had been in Peru the week before picking up their son from his mission.  They arrived home on Friday evening to see the after-effects from the flood.  Their basement had been cleaned out– many things were lost.  Her kids that lived close had done a lot of work cleaning and trying to save what they could.  Their yard was still full of mud, but the driveway was cleaned off and someone had taken time to not only write some “welcome home” signs, but to put up some yellow balloons and ribbons.  It was definitely a bright spot amidst  the  muck and mud.

As we came in to her house, some of her kids were there as they had not yet gone home.  They had come in that weekend for their brother’s mission homecoming.   We handed her the salsa and gave her a hug.  Tears began streaming from her eyes.  She apologized for the tears.  She said they just come randomly.  Realizing their loss, saddened that they weren’t here, appreciative of all that had been done in their behalf….it just brings all the emotions to the surface.   Robbin Frei (my delivery buddy) was as quick to tear up and try to console her.  Robbin would tell me stories as we drove from house to house and would cry frequently.  Very taxing even on those who were not flooded.

Her basement is drying and they are hoping to be able to begin the process of putting it back together soon.