Reflections on the Memorial Day Flood

In the midst of the Memorial Day flood, Adam Hoffman's father swam through streets like Cliffwood, pictured here, to rescue families stuck in their houses. (Photo: Ari Hoffman)

It is not uncommon to see pictures of a flood - massive, devastating ones. The captions usually describe the exotic location that it took place - India, China, or somewhere else on the other side of the world. Every so often, one will come across an image of a flood on the other side of the country, be it New Orleans or the wetlands of Florida.

Unwisely, when I came across such images, I reminded myself that I live in a nice house, in a nice neighborhood and ruin like that would never flow into my city, let alone my community. I have learned my lesson. 

On Memorial Day weekend, water rushed into our city, streets, and houses. By the grace of God, my house was left virtually unaffected but the same is not true for my community. Neighbors and friends had to evacuate their house in the darkness of the night, leaving some of their most precious belongings to rot in the contaminated water.

Amid the rain storm, my father received a call from a neighbor asking for help. He and his wife were stuck in their house with water spewing in from all directions. Under the bright moon, my father swam through the flowing water in the streets carrying a raft. Along with that family, he brought three others to the warm, dry haven of my home.

Despite all the havoc of the flood, kindness was not forsaken as acts like my father’s weren’t unique. The altruism of our community culminated in my school’s response. Instead of sitting in a classroom and learning about our duty to others, students were excused to take part in the effort to repair our broken neighborhood. From morning to dusk, the student body cleaned houses, prepared meals for those without, and participated in the meaningful actions that we, for so long, have learned to do. 

On the Thursday following the flood, I was in an elderly couple’s home, removing the putrid wood furniture to be placed on the front lawn for it to be taken away from the already sad scene. Bearing a grateful smile, the woman took out a few dollars to give us to repay our work. We simply refused.

“We have an obligation to do this,” I had told her, “we have a responsibility to our community.” Looking back on situation, I think about why we had done that. It does not take long for me to remind myself that it is because we have that idea instilled in us.

We are taught, through acts of care from one neighbor to another and our school’s praiseworthy response to the disaster, that we owe much to our community. We watch and learn how to answer such situations- not just in the classroom but from our mentors’ example.