A Flood of Memories

The Moline High School students did so much sand bagging against the 1965 Mississippi Flood that the city dedicated a plaque to us. The 1966 class willingly left their studies to fill and haul sandbags.

 

Believe it or not, I subscribed to the San Francisco Chronicle, even though we visited there only once. Now I am reading about how the city and the state are dealing with one violent storm after another. That was predicted, but weather predictions in Northwest Arkansas seldom pan out, perhaps due to our geography, the Ozarks pushing storms north or east of us.

Christina and I saw floods in Midland (Michigan), St. Louis and New Ulm, never threatening our Icha-bodes but impressive when so near. We thought Erin Joy would be frightened by flooding around the Midland hospital and inside. She was lit up by all the excitement, which made us laugh. She saw entertainment while everyone else was afraid of even more danger.

In early January, I am getting warnings from the gardening vendors I support. One just wrote that I better order some flowers or it would be too late! We are in the true South but not the Equator, as in Ecuador! I recall getting bare root roses in Springdale just as we entered a two-week sample of zero temperatures. I had to soak them in the kitchen in a large garbage pail (aka rain barrel). 

 

Disasters are marks in time, easy to remember the time and place. Moline built a monument for us high school students who sandbagged the 1965 flood. I helped guard and sandbag Melo Cream, but we did not merit a monument. There is a big difference between flood and food. Or I could say, between Do Not Enter! and Donuts - Enter! Yes, I helped keep the donut shop high and dry.

I was talking to a reader yesterday about current conditions in our country. We agreed that the best we could do is find peace in the Gospel of Jesus Christ and help our neighbors who are suffering from economic distress - costs way out of control. 

Roses always make people happy!