The Emergence of Tragedy

At first glance, this may appear to be a neat image. Yet, upon closer look (best in big), it is an emerging image of tragedy and despair. Amidst the placid reflections and vibrant greens of the oak and pine tress sits the home of Peter Porrer. This photo was snapped at 5:30 p.m. this evening and his living room floor was already six inches under water. By the same time tomorrow, it will be three to for feet below these calm waters.

Shortly after lunch today, I was notified by the Army Corp of Engineers that they were going to close the exit dam on our lake and that the waters would rise for the next 72 hours by, perhaps, two to three feet. I knew what this meant. It meant that I needed to put the corporate office on autopilot and head north to pull out my docks and the boat and to, if possible, sandbag the beach shed which was converted into a home office a few years back. As I drove north, I debated in my mind the Army Corp's decision to flood our lake. I was upset at the work that was ahead of me and was asking myself "who are they doing this for?"

Then, about 40 miles south of our lake, I came upon a stretch of the Rum River and witnessed the flooding of more than twenty-five homes and endless acres of farmland. I immediately forgot all about my docks, and my boat and, even, my prized beach office.

I got out of my car to take a few pictures and to give my sympathies and aid to the residents that were clearing out there possessions. Peter came up to me and asked me if I was from the press, he wanted to tell his story. He wanted to say that he moved here 31 years ago from the deep and often flooded south. Never, ever did Peter think that this could happen here. He spoke of the states decision to reroute the river and how he thought that this decision contributed to the flooding. He spoke of the loss of possessions and his inability to comprehend the backside of this ordeal. He asked me if I could walk his property with him so that he could explain what it looked like when it was not flooded, so he could point out where his gardens were. He wanted to talk and talk and talk...and to walk. And, while I was reluctantly thinking about my property, what I really wanted to do was to listen to Peter talk. Of all the things he said, what struck me most profoundly was that he was not angry and did not have a "woe is me" demeanor. He simply said that "mother-nature always has her way, whether we like it or not." I felt his pain in his midst.

I eventually got to my cabin, did what I could in the remaining daylight and thought continually of Peter and the residents of the Rum River basin. My heart wept for them.

I have added a few more images of the area in a blipfolio. The first image is of Peter and there is another of a man sitting on a spare tire whilst his home is flooding and his young son is rowing a boat on their property. What a sight. The link is HERE.

Here is a link to a video of the damage in near by Duluth: Aerial images of the flood

Thank you for the unbelievable kindness to my blip of yesterday. I had no idea that a last minute blip of chance could garner such wonderful reactions. You always seem to blow me away. Due to the chaotic day, I have had no chance to be on blip. Hopefully, the waters will subside and I am thankful our home is NOT at risk.