It has been several days since I’ve written. Several busy days. Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny!! In fact, it was dry all day. After breakfast of a hard boiled egg and 2 pieces of slightly dry raisin bread, I went to first see the river and then see how Captain and Roma were faring. The river had gone down some in the night, and they had slept well. Captain was on his deck heating tea on a single burner backpacking stove. Their dirty dishes were backing up and so were mine, so I put on a pot of water to boil and washed theirs and mine. It felt good to straighten up the house a bit, but I wished I could have run the vacuum on the entrance rug, which was caked with the grime that comes in during a rain.
My neighbor, Susan knocked on the door about 9am with a thawed turkey. I had told her that she could cook it on my stove-top. The turkey was divided into pieces and put into 2 stock pots to simmer. A crew from our “island” and the other part of the neighborhood were working on a trail for ATVs so that we would have a way out. Those of us not working on the trail were preparing food for the workers.
After the turkey was safely simmering, it was time for a cell phone run. I spoke with Steve who, again, told me of the necessity of getting out as soon as possible. When I told him that Captain and Roma where planning to stay, he became angry. I didn't understand at first, but after getting off the phone realized that this "thing" was must be much bigger than I was seeing. Little did I know that the flooding had covered an area the size of Connecticut. Steve also told me Beth had finally gotten communication out from Estes Park with a post on Facebook that they were safe and well. I called mom and got to speak with Leah for the first time since all this started; she was visiting my mom and dad in Holland, MI. Just as she got on the phone, an army helicopter descended into the small field just below the “cell phone” ridge. The noise and rushing air made it impossible to communicate, but I did hear her voice and that was good.
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| the army med evac helicopter |
The helicopte
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| Getting instructions for evacuating those with medical needs |
I returned home to check on the turkey and prepare more food. I was walking up my driveway, when one of the volunteer firefighters drove up on an ATV with the announcement that general evacuations would be beginning as soon as possible at the fire station for as long as the weather held. Instructions were to pack only what we could carry, plus food for several meals. I scurried. I had already started a small duffle, but finished it. In it were clothing for 3 days, a pair of sandals, jacket, rain slicker, cell phone charger, toothbrush and medicines. I didn’t take things that I could easily replace. My laptop, library book and bible had to be rejected for weight reasons. I brought a house key to Roma and she came over to see what needed to be done in order to leave the house in good order. She took over with the food for lunch and promised to empty my freezer and cooler, allowing anyone to use what they could. Susan also decided to leave, so we prepared to hike out together.
Just as I was leaving my house, Captain drove up in his pickup. He told me to hop in, we picked up Susan on the next street and drove up and around the curve to the end of Kiowa st. where we found the new trail. Neighbor Steve was on his way down on his ATV, so we transferred vehicles. With our dufflebags in the small scoop in the front, I behind Steve and Susan clinging on behind me, facing backward, we headed down the trail. Several times we had to get down to walk and several times we had to wait for the trail crew to cut down a tree. We got to a spot where the crew was laying tree trunks over a washed out gully (a gully the size of the old river), making a rudimentary bridge and the ATV could go no further. It was time to hike. I put the handles of my dufflebag over my shoulders like a makeshift backpack, Susan carried hers, and off we went following the pink plastic ribbons tied around tree trunks marking the trail. We hiked past the water treatment plant, miraculously still standing, and Cree Ct., washed away. At the other side, a Larimer county search and rescue team and a Pinewood fireman team were assessing the situation and making a plan. One of the firemen drove us the rest of the way to the station on his cart. We arrived just as a helicopter was lifting off.
One of the fire station bays had been turned into a makeshift terminal where we checked in and took a seat on a folding chair. They weren’t sure if the helicopter would be back for another load, but if it did, it would be about 90 minutes. So we waited and talked to neighbors and rescue personnel. We saw a tearful young woman holding onto a beautiful golden retriever. One of the Larimer county search and rescue team told me she had been flown in up highway 36 and there was at least a mile of road completely gone between Apple valley road and Longmont Dam Road. We also heard that Dead Man’s Curve, a mile above Pinewood, was out in two places. 
The army Chinook helicopter announced its return with the familiar chopper sound, quickly descended into the field across from the fire station, and its back hatch folded down. Several soldiers hopped out. “Time to go,” someone hollered. We grabbed our few belongings and promptly walked through the hot wind and debris being blown from the rotors. As we were walking, someone handed the leash of the golden retriever to Susan, and briefly told her that the dog, Bailey, was being picked up by an animal hospital on the other end; could she hold onto her for the flight. I grabbed Susan’s bag, and she dragged a very reluctant Bailey. Once inside the helicopter, we took a seat, one of about 30 seats, 15 on each side facing inward. There were about 20 of us and multiple pets. Ear plugs were passed out; it was deafening. Susan worked on calming Bailey. Loading was finished in a few minutes, a soldier fastened a strap across the luggage at our feet, and we went up, straight up.
The couple across from us struggled to calm 2 dogs and a cat in a carrier. The woman must have thought the cat could be calmed easier if she let it out (!?!?!?). It was not and couldn’t be held either. As they scrambled to catch the cat, the man ended up with blood streaming down his cheek and chin. They did catch it; they did get it back in the carrier; it did not calm down. We flew over several mountain ridges, feeling a gust of air each time we passed over. I peeked through a small opening in the mesh covering a window and caught glimpses of the outside world: a beautiful home with no driveway, and a highway that ended where it had been washed away. We descended, still in the mountains, wondering where we were. The hatch again opened and more people got on, including a group of hunters. The noise prevented talking so I wrote on a piece of paper, “Where are we?” and handed it to a woman who had just gotten on. She wrote and handed it back: “Glen Haven = GONE.” Immediately the helicopter lifted again and this time we saw it heading towards the front range as rain drops began to hit the front windshield. I recognized Horse Tooth Reservoir from my peep hole and soon we were on the ground just below the dam. We grabbed our belongings again and exited in the windy blast.
Once away from the helicopter, someone loaded our bags onto a pickup truck, we were offered bottles of water, and ushered into a correctional facility’s bus. We were told that we were being taken to a Red Cross center at Timberline Church on the other side of Fort Collins. There was no one waiting for Bailey here, so she came along. The family sitting behind us knew Bailey’s story: she was on her way to an animal hospital because she was about to deliver puppies. I sent a text to Steve from the bus telling him where I was and where I was going. Off we went. 
We were welcomed at the church by several gracious church members who told us where to go. As Susan tried to find out information about where Bailey needed to go, I went inside to find out what roads would be open for Steve to get to the church. Extensive flooding in Boulder, Longmont and Loveland had left few open roads. Everyone had been so helpful and considerate all day, until I talked with a Red Cross volunteer. I had questions and all she was concerned about was getting me to fill out their paperwork. I saw others at tables hunched over a 2-page form. I was interested in finding a bathroom, and a place to wait for Steve, not getting checked into the evacuation center. Finally I found someone who gave me rudimentary directions and I went back outside to sit on the sidewalk, lean against the building and call Steve to tell him where I was and how to get there. Susan’s son had arrived and they would be delivering Bailey to the animal hospital, as no one was there to pick her up. The church members were so kind, passing out water and snacks, and listening to the stories of the evacuees.
The wait was relatively short and the moment I saw Steve my emotions overflowed in tears. He took me to Scott and Jenna’s house in Boulder. Along the way, while watching flooding and remains of flooding, I called several people to tell them I was out. After a lovely hot shower and a yummy dinner, I showed pictures from my phone and told stories of my week. Beth found internet service and we talked to her and Matt on a video chat. I was so relieved to see everyone’s faces and hear their voices! I also watched numerous videos online of the widespread flooding and destruction. I heard overwhelming statistics of the thousands of square miles affected, the amount of rainfall (12” - 20 “) the 6 people confirmed dead, the thousands of people still missing, the thousands who remain stranded, and the thousands who lost their homes. Some are calling this the thousand-year-flood. We are so blessed that our house is standing, our RV and truck are available, we have a place to stay and we are safe. I am so thankful for the many people who had a hand in the evacuation efforts today. I couldn't thank them then, I hope someone does. Their compassion made a difference. Our concern is for Captain and Roma and other neighbors, who are still planning on staying in their homes. Somehow we need to convey to them the enormity of the flood and the necessity of getting to safety.
Sunday was a little less eventful for us, although it rained hard and swelled the rivers again. We went to our church in Longmont where we received lots of hugs and offers of a place to stay. Singing “Great is Thy Faithfulness” brought me to tears as I praised God for my situation. Friends invited us to go out for brunch with them and we stopped to see other good friends to show that we were healthy and well. We spent the afternoon checking to see if our trailer had survived the rains (it had!) and looking for an RV campground where we could park it and live. All the RV parks that we tried were full. There are many questions waiting to be answered about what the months ahead will hold for us, but I am not worried. God is with us.
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