Floods
A long time ago, I was in a group called the Neo-Futurists, and we did a show called "Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind." (The Neo-Futurists are still doing it, if you're in Chicago and want to go see it). Basically the premise is this: We did 30 plays in 60 minutes, and we did them in random order every week. And every week we'd swap out a number of plays and put in new ones. That number was determined by the roll of the dice -- two, regular dice -- during the course of the show, in front of the audience. In any given week we'd have to replace 2 to 12 plays. We all wrote the plays we put in the show: they varied from send-ups of musicals, to serious pieces about the Constitution or gun control, to Shakespeare in under 2 minutes, to relationship plays .... in other words, whatever anyone felt like writing about. Some were better than others. Once in a while we'd do one based on the original "Futurists" who were Italian.
I wrote a play called "Floods in my Hometown." One of the ensemble members laughed when I told them the title: she thought it was going to be about pants that are too short. No, it was actually about the strange experience of seeing the town I grew up in on the news as suffering from major floods -- I grew up in Elkins, West Virginia, and it almost never makes the national news. Its a small town. Biggest thing around for 7 counties, but that's not saying much. So there on the news were national reporters, getting the names of the rivers and towns wrong, telling me about the floods. And here I was in Chicago, watching it all on the news, wondering what was really going on.
Pieces of Ike have come to Chicago. Its still raining, though it can now be described as "light rain" rather than the heavy rain we've been having steadily since ... Friday? In a twenty-four hour period, we got over 6.6 inches of rain, the most in the 137 years of reporting. My neighborhood is still closed off to vehicle traffic, except for flood related vehicles. There's a city bus sitting on the corner across from my house -- since I live on a side-street, this is rather startling. It says "CFD Emergency Services" on it. So the Fire Department has brought in a bus in case more people need to be evacuated.
I used to live two blocks from the North Branch of the Chicago River, and two blocks from a very nice park named after Eugene Field (don't ask: I read the plaque once but can't remember who he was -- most likely a local community organizer though). I still live two blocks from the park, which is probably completely underwater. I can't get near enough to see it. I now live one block from the river.
The single family homes that are on the block between Argyle and the river are now sitting in the middle of what looks to be a lake. You can't get anywhere near them. Yesterday there was a boat sitting on a little hill next to the house at the end of the block: that's gone today -- they've evacuated everyone from that block.
At the end of my street facing this new lake is the staging ground for sandbags. They dumped a pile of sand there yesterday, and City Streets and Sanitation workers have been bagging it and filling up big earth-movers with the bags, which then go off to deliver the bags somewhere else. They've sandbagged down the street by where the river banks are usually. There's a part of me that wants them to put sandbags where the end of the river is now, at Argyle.
Some of the houses have a small wall of sandbags around them. Others don't. I wonder why that is. You can't tell with the houses futher down the street whether they had sandbags which are now submerged.
Last night there were fire trucks parked on the street. All kinds of trucks, from a big ladder truck that seemed to be supplying the light for the night's work, to smaller trucks that had names like "Breathing Support Services" (really? For a flood?). And one or two fire chief vehicles: SUVs. Streets and San sent dump trucks (with sand?) and a lot of other vehicles, some minivans, some SUVs, some trucks. This morning the Salvation Army showed up in their truck to distribute coffee to the workers (which I'm sure was most welcome). Also a earthmoving thing parked itself in front of my condo, looking like it was ready to move my little car out of its parking space.
When I came home through the rain from my meeting this morning, I chatted some with the traffic management person outside my buidling: no traffic to manage at that moment. He said the power had gone out: by the time I got inside, it was back on, but all my clocks were blinking. So time to reset the clocks: I'm really glad I managed to get a new watch battery put in my watch yesterday ....
We walked down the street about 2 pm to survey the floods -- my kid returned from his father's, which was a bit of an adventure in itself, as I had to walk to the end of the block to get him and his stuff, given that his dad couldn't turn down my street (and if he had gotten down the street, there was no where to turn around and get out). At that point there was a People's Gas truck sitting where the fire truck used to be ... good to know they're on the case, but also a bit worrying (ooh, gas fires! explosions! no no not in my neighborhood). And theyv'e dug a hole in the street. I'd really like to know why on that one: why the need for the hole? The water will go down, the sandbags will go away, and things will go back to normal. But the hole in the street is going to need fixing. The street is in bad enough shape as it is, and winter is coming folks!
Helicopters now: maybe trying to get pictures for the evening news?
I don't feel in danger. But I do feel that I want to be home in case we're evacuated: that is, I want to be able to grab the stuff I can, and not just come home and find out I'm not allowed to go back to my house .... But I don't think we'll be evacuated. After all, the river is a whole block away. And the rain is slowing down considerably.
The Bears played in Carolina today. It was sunny and hot there. They lost, after being ahead until the 4th quarter. I guess hot and sunny is not Bear weather.
So the floods are no longer in my hometown, but far too near my home. It's not like the Gulf Coast which really got hit hard; but its bad enough for the middle of Chicago.
I wrote a play called "Floods in my Hometown." One of the ensemble members laughed when I told them the title: she thought it was going to be about pants that are too short. No, it was actually about the strange experience of seeing the town I grew up in on the news as suffering from major floods -- I grew up in Elkins, West Virginia, and it almost never makes the national news. Its a small town. Biggest thing around for 7 counties, but that's not saying much. So there on the news were national reporters, getting the names of the rivers and towns wrong, telling me about the floods. And here I was in Chicago, watching it all on the news, wondering what was really going on.
Pieces of Ike have come to Chicago. Its still raining, though it can now be described as "light rain" rather than the heavy rain we've been having steadily since ... Friday? In a twenty-four hour period, we got over 6.6 inches of rain, the most in the 137 years of reporting. My neighborhood is still closed off to vehicle traffic, except for flood related vehicles. There's a city bus sitting on the corner across from my house -- since I live on a side-street, this is rather startling. It says "CFD Emergency Services" on it. So the Fire Department has brought in a bus in case more people need to be evacuated.
I used to live two blocks from the North Branch of the Chicago River, and two blocks from a very nice park named after Eugene Field (don't ask: I read the plaque once but can't remember who he was -- most likely a local community organizer though). I still live two blocks from the park, which is probably completely underwater. I can't get near enough to see it. I now live one block from the river.
The single family homes that are on the block between Argyle and the river are now sitting in the middle of what looks to be a lake. You can't get anywhere near them. Yesterday there was a boat sitting on a little hill next to the house at the end of the block: that's gone today -- they've evacuated everyone from that block.
At the end of my street facing this new lake is the staging ground for sandbags. They dumped a pile of sand there yesterday, and City Streets and Sanitation workers have been bagging it and filling up big earth-movers with the bags, which then go off to deliver the bags somewhere else. They've sandbagged down the street by where the river banks are usually. There's a part of me that wants them to put sandbags where the end of the river is now, at Argyle.
Some of the houses have a small wall of sandbags around them. Others don't. I wonder why that is. You can't tell with the houses futher down the street whether they had sandbags which are now submerged.
Last night there were fire trucks parked on the street. All kinds of trucks, from a big ladder truck that seemed to be supplying the light for the night's work, to smaller trucks that had names like "Breathing Support Services" (really? For a flood?). And one or two fire chief vehicles: SUVs. Streets and San sent dump trucks (with sand?) and a lot of other vehicles, some minivans, some SUVs, some trucks. This morning the Salvation Army showed up in their truck to distribute coffee to the workers (which I'm sure was most welcome). Also a earthmoving thing parked itself in front of my condo, looking like it was ready to move my little car out of its parking space.
When I came home through the rain from my meeting this morning, I chatted some with the traffic management person outside my buidling: no traffic to manage at that moment. He said the power had gone out: by the time I got inside, it was back on, but all my clocks were blinking. So time to reset the clocks: I'm really glad I managed to get a new watch battery put in my watch yesterday ....
We walked down the street about 2 pm to survey the floods -- my kid returned from his father's, which was a bit of an adventure in itself, as I had to walk to the end of the block to get him and his stuff, given that his dad couldn't turn down my street (and if he had gotten down the street, there was no where to turn around and get out). At that point there was a People's Gas truck sitting where the fire truck used to be ... good to know they're on the case, but also a bit worrying (ooh, gas fires! explosions! no no not in my neighborhood). And theyv'e dug a hole in the street. I'd really like to know why on that one: why the need for the hole? The water will go down, the sandbags will go away, and things will go back to normal. But the hole in the street is going to need fixing. The street is in bad enough shape as it is, and winter is coming folks!
Helicopters now: maybe trying to get pictures for the evening news?
I don't feel in danger. But I do feel that I want to be home in case we're evacuated: that is, I want to be able to grab the stuff I can, and not just come home and find out I'm not allowed to go back to my house .... But I don't think we'll be evacuated. After all, the river is a whole block away. And the rain is slowing down considerably.
The Bears played in Carolina today. It was sunny and hot there. They lost, after being ahead until the 4th quarter. I guess hot and sunny is not Bear weather.
So the floods are no longer in my hometown, but far too near my home. It's not like the Gulf Coast which really got hit hard; but its bad enough for the middle of Chicago.