I saw our neighbors leaving, packing up; I didn’t think it seemed all that bad. Our power only had just gone out, I was painting my nails. I had never experienced something of this magnitude, something that could potentially damage my home, my town, and my life. My dad went out to talk to them, wearing a poncho but still yet coming back soaking wet. They were leaving before they were demanded to do so. That’s when I got the saddest command.
“Get a few things together, we’ll find a place to go”
I had never been evacuated; the weather had never been bad enough. I didn’t know what to pack. What could I not live without? I looked around my room realizing that I might not ever see my room again. I was holding back tears as I packed, as I packed my memories away, or said goodbye to them for what could be forever. I finished what I could, and got in the car. It was just in time as we later found out. We found refuge at my dad’s co-worker’s house but not before we passed bridges and roads closed, parking lots filled with water, and the roaring river as it came ever closer to wiping out the only street left in town.
Mike Lilly however had power, little rain, and a police scanner which was tremendously helpful as it provided background noise to the overwhelming silence and information. He was upbeat about the weather and assured that it wasn’t more than a few inches of rain.
The river across the street from my house was reaching extremes heights, even a car floated along the powerful extra 15 feet of water. The bridges connecting our town to the surrounding towns were washed away. The area in which I lived, the 5 blocks below, and the 2 above, we’re all closed off waiting for the possible doom. The police scanner continued to spit out the details of destruction. We called those we knew and worried about. 
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