We Wait, and We Watch

The Mississippi River is the highest it has ever been. And it hasn't finished rising yet. The crest is expected in about 4 or 5 days. On Thursday this past week we broke the record that had stood since 1937 when we crossed the 60 feet mark. And in my head I keep hearing Johnny Cash singing "Five Feet High and Rising".

Like many others, I walked to down to the river last night. I can't remember the last time I saw so many folks downtown. Not a lot of talking going on, just looking. And taking pictures. The little town across the river, Vidalia, is already starting to flood. The riverfront park is under water and the businesses are surrounded by sand bag fences. The water is creeping up the levee. It is only a matter of time. (Side note - for those that don't know - Natchez is about 200 feet above the river up on a cliff. Our house is probably another 30 feet above that. If we ever flood, there's an ark out there somewhere and there's other things to worry about.)

On our side, the casino closed last week. Some of the old buildings no longer in business were taken down. A sand bag fence along the riverbank turns and closes the street just on the far side of the last restaurant.

It is a scary time.

But here is what has impressed me the most - the spirit of the communities involved.

Parked along the top of the bluff were rows of recreational vehicles. And a Concordia Parish Sheriff's Command Post. And storm chasers. All parked on what is normally private property. Our office has offered our conference rooms and vacant office space to an attorney's office that will most likely be temporarily displaced. A coworker has given up valuable storage space to people needing to move their household belongings, and done so at no charge. There is an emergency animal shelter one block from our house in a city-owned building to house the animals, not only those abandoned but also those that maybe can't go with their owners to a shelter. It is being manned by volunteers from around the country and assisted by the locals.

We're seeing true neighbor helping neighbor, right in our own backyard. And we're not alone. Today, the Army Corp of Engineers started opening spillways to take some pressure off the river. That water that is being diverted to save Baton Rouge and New Orleans from almost certain disaster will most likely take out many small towns. Flooding thousands of homes. Earlier in the process, precious farmland in Missouri was sacrificed to blow some levees and do the same thing - flood specific areas to spare others.

And you know what? I haven't heard anyone complaining about it. Unlike the tornadoes that dropped out of the skies over Arkansas and Alabama and northern Mississippi a few weeks ago, everyone here has had warning. They've had time to decide what they need to keep, protect it and head to higher ground. They recognize that a natural disaster is simply and Act of God and nothing that could be avoided. And that sometimes someone has to "take one for the team" in order to lessen what could be an even greater disaster.

I'm proud of my "neighbors" - those near and far. It has actually restored some of my faith in human nature. I watched the citizen of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina blame everyone except Mother Nature for what they were experiencing. Yes, it was horrible. The storm itself and the flood after were unprecedented. But the looting was shameful and the blame was unacceptable.

You live in a soup bowl and high water could be a problem.

You ignore the orders to evacuate and you might get stuck on a roof or in the Super Dome with hundreds of others.

Instead, help each other and help yourself and keep everything in perspective. Remember to be thankful that you had warning and time to take action instead of hearing the scream of a tornado siren as you see the funnel cloud heading to your house.

Remember that this too shall pass.

Watch, and wait.