They moved to the River after several summers of vacationing there. They had searched all of California north of Santa Barbara. This was to be their final move – the place where they would raise the kids and settle down for good. Jack had worked there one summer building a greenhouse.
The climate was wonderful, the people interesting, the schools good, a state college nearby, not too far from a major city, the rents affordable. They decided on a four bedroom house overlooking the river. It was for rent only during the off season and they felt that would give them enough time to look for something more permanent.
The family packed most of their things up in boxes and shoved them into one of the back bedrooms. The house came fully furnished as the owners used it for their family summer home. It came complete with canoe!
A dog, three cats, a gold fish, and two hermit crabs made the move also. The house had a wood stove and a fireplace, a huge sun deck. Otters and blue herons were often visible out of the kitchen window.
The family celebrated the long Indian Summer with trips to the river down the path in their yard, family gatherings, swimming, and sunbathing. Kristie was in school taking final courses for a BA and Jack was working for a solar green house company and honing his computer skills.
Halloween was interesting. Playing Hide and Seek in the dark Redwood Forest. Trick or Treating in unknown neighborhoods under the dark canopy of trees. Not like suburbia.
They had an outdoor Thanksgiving feast with most of Jack’s side of the family camping out in the huge house. Cousins all slept together in a pile. Adult couples had their own rooms. It was warm enough for mud pies on the banks of The River.
Christmas was cold, but beautiful. Fog and woodsmoke in the giant redwoods. January was cold and rainy. And I mean RAIN, not rain, but RAIN!!! They didn’t really know it could rain that much. February was cold and rainy for the first two weeks and then….
Kristie called Jack at work, “The water is up to the edge of the lawn and the canoe is floating tied to the tree.”
“Move it half way up.”
“The water is halfway up the lawn and the canoe is floating tied to the deck.”
“Move it up onto the deck.”
“The water is almost under the deck.”
“Pack some bags. I’m coming home to get you.”
They talked to the neighbors. “You’d better get out while you can. We’ll feed your cats. Take the dog with you.”
Jack barely made it through. They moved the cars to higher ground, took the dog, two bags, and the kids, and trudged the half mile out to the evacuation point. Some experienced locals were taking community members out by canoe to higher ground, across the lake that was forming below the bridge, to the Vets’ Hall. All this time it is pouring rain, buckets of rain. They are drenched, but it isn’t that cold.
They are a strong family. No one is crying; the dog is being good. First they go to the Vets’ hall and sit with a hundred others who have been taken out before them. As the day goes on and the water gets higher, the status and income of the evacuees gets higher too. The little family are among the first of the middle class. All the River Rats and low landers are already there.
Outside looking at the river they can see whole Redwood Trees go by at 35 mph looking like a 50 foot 2×4 in the water. They see washing machines tied to pallets floating by in four seconds time out of sight. Some of the local business people are bemoaning their losses. A pizza place donates everything to the fire house to prepare food for the evacuees.
Some of the other restaurants who could have donated food don’t, and in the days following have their food supplies marked with red spray paint unsafe, discard, a big zero with a slash through it. Many of those places never return to business.
They decide to move up again to the Catholic church. They file in there, still drenched, some people weeping softly, coughing, some people beginning to get hypothermia. The family takes a pew in the back.
Two junkies who smell like human crap say,”I’d suck dick for a hit of smack right now.”
“Oh great!” Kristie thinks to herself, huddling closer to the children.
Jack covers his brood with a blanket he has thought to bring and then wades across the thigh deep water that separates the church from the fire house. He is over there with some other volunteers making pizza. He wades back and forth between the two buildings a dozen times. Each time their faithful dog paddles after him diligently hoping to be of some service and thinking this is some grand adventure!
Next to the family on one side is an old man who is shivering with cold. Kristie helps him take his shoes off and get some dry socks out of one of their bags for him. He is a typical river character and he has way over grown toe nails and plantar warts on the bottoms of his feet.Kristie’s heart is moved to give his feet a nice rub and put some dry socks on him.
A trailer park family sits just behind them, “Ma, I itch! This rain is drivin’ me plum crazy! I hope we don’t got the head lice again.”
“Girl,” Ma says to one of her blonde blue-eyed children,”Do you got the lice again?”
They sit there in the Catholic church eating pizza. The candles on the alter are glowing and flickering. Jack is with them now after bringing some minestrone soup from his last trip to the fire house. Their dog is outside with several other dogs at the front door.
Kristie goes outside to check on him and use the porta-potty. The porta-potties (three of them) are completely full and over-flowing. There are several people around. She doesn’t care. She pulls down her pants and pee in the flower bed next to the church. No one pays attention. They’re all in this together.
Several of the men are listening to their radios. “A propane tank blew up the Bridge!”
“They’re bringing in helicopters to rescue us!”
“They’re bringing in special boats to rescue us!”
Rumors….No one slept.
The next morning they were told to trudge up to the top of the hill near the cemetery for evacuation by helicopter.
“No, you can’t take your dog. Someone will look after your dog for you.”
Now everyone starts crying. “We can’t take our dog?!”
“What’s going to happen to him?”
“Someone volunteers to make sure he’s taken care of.”
There is a lot of protest and much crying. When people realize they cannot take their pets out with them on the helicopter, some opt for staying in the flooded town.
They march up the hill. Still wet. Still raining hard…end of the world hard. The more affluent folks of G-ville come out to stand on their porches and make comments, “Trash.”
“Keep walkin'”
“Good riddance.”
…under their breath, but loud enough for all the evacuees to hear.
They sit on gravestones in the pouring rain waiting until someone tells them what to do and where to go. Kristie sits down and feel something cold and gooshy. It is human feces! After all this and she sits in a pile of SHIT! JESUS! H. FUCKER! She can’t cry. She can’t laugh. She looks at her husband who is trying to help her wipe it off.
Jack is helpless. They huddle under a plastic poncho trying to find some protection from the rain. A little Mexican girl comes to stand with them. Kristie looks at her and is positive she has head lice…. “Oh, Jesus! And I smell like shit!” She says to Jack disgusted by the whole affair.
A young gorgeous guardsman comes to get their group. He is friendly and smiling and he apologizes as he gently pushes down Kristie’s large belly and fastens her into a seat belt on the helicopter. “Don’t worry about it, honey,” she says to him. Even this tragedy can’t prevent her from flirting and eyeing his youth and vigor.
They are taken to the shelter in the next town. They take a cab to a motel. Strip off their clothes, take hot showers, wrap up in clean sheets, and wash out their clothes in the bathtub. They turn the TV on and see their dog running around town caught by a news reporter on tape. He was on TV four or five times and had several offers of adoption.
Clean up isn’t fun. Everything is covered in mud. You can’t decide what to keep. You have to start over. Throw it all away. The family’s biggest losses were a library of books, music, a piano, three sets of encyclopedias, washer, dryer, stereo, TV’s, business records, all those old prom corsages, tools… The list goes on to include all beds, appliances, furniture, clothes, family Bible….
The girl was most upset by the loss of her stuffed animal collection. The boy lost toys and the fireworks he had been saving to blow off. Jack lost business records and time off of work. Kristie cried for days locked in the bathroom trying to save old baby pictures, rinsing them off and hanging them on strings with paper clips and clothes pins.
They loaded up a truck full of muddied clothes, sheets, towels, blankets, etc. and took them to a laundromat two hours out of town to wash. All the laundromats in the immediate area were completely full of people doing the same thing. Driving down the freeway with liquid mud flowing from the truck bed… “Sorry,” she says to no one.
Yes, they got their dog back! The cats were fine – their little paws caked in mud. The fish was saved – the water stopped within one inch of his life. Someone stole the hermit crabs! Who can figure that one out? Their cars were fine. They didn’t get head lice. They moved to higher ground. They still love the River! Come hell or high water! They still love the River!
(A memoir dedicated to February 14, 1986. First published 8/25/11)
