NATURE. PHOTOGRAPHY

After the Rain

The Great Flood of 2016

Rain has a special significance to me. It is a symbol of renewal, growth, and life. As it nourishes the earth, it also nourishes my soul. Rain is a reminder that we all need to be replenished and revitalized. It symbolizes the ebb and flow of life and the cyclical nature of our existence.

In moments of drought, when the earth is parched and dry, rain quenches the earth’s thirst with the hope and the promise of a new beginning. It is a reminder that even in the darkest times, there is still potential for growth and change.

In some instances, rain can even be a sign of sorrow or grief. Just as rain can be a source of life, it can also be a source of destruction. It can flood rivers, wash away homes and disrupt our lives. I know this all too well, as my home flooded in what is known as “The Great Flood of 2016.”

The flooding began on August 11, 2016, due to a slow-moving storm system that stalled over Louisiana, dumping large amounts of rain over several days. A hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico lost its wind power. It was reduced to a tropical storm and finally to rainfall.

The heavy rainfall caused several rivers, including the Amite, Comite, and Tickfaw, to overflow their banks, causing widespread flooding in my region. Tributaries stemming from the Amite River flooded my home. It was a devastating natural disaster in which the river rose higher than it had risen in more than 100 years, 42.5 feet, to be exact.

Baton Rouge was one of the hardest hit areas, with many neighborhoods and business districts experiencing severe flooding. Many residents were forced to evacuate their homes, and thousands were left without power or clean drinking water. I was one of those residents, along with my husband, parents, brother, and dogs.

This was a freak event of nature, unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed. I recall opening my door Friday morning and thinking it had never rained this hard, this continuously, for so many days as far as I could recall. I begged my parents to evacuate their homes. They wanted to stay at my dad’s place and ride out the storm. I could hear the fireman on the other end of the phone trying to convince them to leave. Finally, they agreed.

The water rose so fast that there was no way out of their home by car. They were evacuated by boat. They were driven to a meeting point to be picked up. I brought my mother to my house. My brother had an open wound that became saturated by the bacteria-filled flood waters and had to go to the hospital. My father stayed with my brother.

The next day was the strangest phenomenon I’ve ever seen. The rain stopped, but the water continued to rise. The rivers had overflowed, and the water was slowly inching its way toward my home via tributaries and smaller creeks. I tried to leave my neighborhood that evening but could not get out because surrounding neighborhoods were flooded. From that point forward began the waiting game. No one could get in or out except by boat, so we were left to wait for the water to stop flowing or for a rescue boat.

The Louisiana National Guard was called in to assist with rescue and recovery efforts, and many volunteers also came to the area to help with the relief efforts. The “Cajun Navy” is a real thing. South Louisiana is a hot spot for freshwater and deep-sea fishermen. It’s a land of bayous and water filled with people who are kind-hearted and helpful in times of need. The locals know the back waterways better than anyone, and they know how to navigate search and rescues safely.

I spent the night putting everything onto high shelves in my home, packing emergency supplies, medications, dog food, documents, and supplies. With my husband’s medical needs, I didn’t have much room for anything but medical supplies, and that was okay because we had what we needed. I packed “stay dry” clothes that I used for jogging. The plan was to hand wash them because they dry very quickly.

One of my neighbors told me I was wasting my time. “This neighborhood has never flooded, and it never will,” he insisted. I always prefer to be humble and prepared rather than be prideful and unprepared. I prepared for the worst and hoped for the best.

The following morning my neighbor’s car was underwater, and the water was above my car’s tires. Helicopters were circling and providing information to ground units. We were packed and waiting. Even my dogs had their life vests on, just in case. We were picked up with our neighbors by boat by our local sheriff’s department. They were kind and compassionate. They assisted my mother with her walker and even held our dogs while I helped my mom sit.

My dogs were tiny, and they all fit into a small kennel, so preventing them from running loose was easy. But I didn’t want them in their kennel while in the boat. If we capsized, I wanted them to have a fighting chance and not be trapped. So, my husband, my mom, and I held a dog. In a small way, those cuddly sweethearts brought us comfort.

I glanced at my mom and saw her holding my chihuahua tightly with soft tears flowing. I sensed the realization hit her that she had lost all her belongings and home, and now she was uncertain where she would live. I put my arm around her and whispered to her that God would take care of us. We’re all safe and together, and that’s all that matters.

I felt a sense of relief wash over me as the sky released a light sprinkling of rain once again. Things could’ve gone much worse, but we were rescued, alive, and healthy, and all would be okay. I had an indescribable sense of peace.

We were dropped off at a nearby gas station on dry land so the boats could rescue more people. Someone approached me and asked me to borrow my phone. She said no one would let her use their phone because they were concerned about preserving their batteries and having no way to charge them. I had already called someone for help, so I lent her my phone. Ironically, the friend wanting to pick us up had no way to get to us, but the lady who borrowed my phone had a vehicle. She drove us to our friend’s house, where we lived for the next two months while our home was being repaired.

The damage from the flood was extensive and widespread. The governor of Louisiana declared a state of emergency, and the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) declared a major disaster for the affected areas. According to the governor’s office, over 60,000 homes were affected by the flood, and thousands of people were displaced. The flood caused an estimated $8.7 billion in damages, making it one of the costliest natural disasters in the state’s history.

The Great Flood of 2016 was a tragic event that had a major impact on many people’s lives in the region. The disaster brought the community together and showed the resilience of the people who worked tirelessly to rebuild and recover. The flood also served as a reminder of the importance of being prepared for natural disasters and the need for effective emergency management and planning. At the end of the day, it showed us what is important in life.

If you would’ve asked me in April 2017, I would’ve said the flood was indirectly responsible for my mother’s death. I felt it might have pushed her over the edge during a difficult time. She was struggling with cancer treatments, all while losing her home. Her home was beyond repair and had to be destroyed.

My parents moved in with me until they could get back on their feet again. I wanted my mom to stay and live with me, but she needed independence. It was important to her. My mom died a few weeks after she moved out of my house.

After losing my mom, it took time and much contemplation to reframe my thinking regarding the flood and rain. It took time to heal from the devastation. For a while, I became nervous each time it rained, thinking it could happen again at any moment.

I have always been the caretaker in my immediate family, and the one everyone relied upon in difficult times. I felt responsible for my family and their well-being after the flood. I felt guilty that I was able to repair my home, and they weren’t. I faced a myriad of emotions and thoughts I needed to overcome. I overcame those obstacles, and I am stronger for it.

Even in its destruction, the rain reminds me that we must be resilient and adaptable and learn to go with the flow and let go of what we can’t control.

Rain symbolizes cleansing, purification, renewal, and rebirth. It is a sign of a new beginning, hope, and change. It is a symbol of strength in times of adversity.

So let us embrace the power and meaning of rain. Let us allow it to nourish our bodies and souls. Let us be grateful for the good and the bad, the beauty and the destruction it brings, for they are both necessary for growth and change in life.

Thank you for reading.

Mia Verita 2023

A Louisiana native, John Hiatt, performs “Feels Like Rain.”

Axl Rose sings “November Rain” at Lisa Marie Presley’s Service.

Steve ’N’ Seagulls performs “November Rain.”

Prince performs “Purple Rain.”

CCR performs “Who Will Stop the Rain.”

Phil Collins performs “I Wish It Would Rain Down.”

This has been my response to the “Rain Sustains Our Lives” prompt for the final week of January. I hope you’ve enjoyed it. I invite other writers here to share how rain sustains your life.

Thank you to all the hard-working editors of Reciprocal, Dr. Preeti Singh, Sahil Patel, and Yana Bostongirl, for hosting this story.

Thank you, Dr. Preeti Singh and Joyce Nielsen, for this inspiring prompt.

Here are a few other articles that I found inspiring.

Denise Estey Lindquist shared this story about rain in her state.

Hermione Wilds Writes shared this story about rain.

Mia Verita enjoys growing in learning while looking for the good in life. She enjoys photography, sketching, writing poetry, and sharing inspirational stories.

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