Published: June 13, 2008 12:36 pm            

Water, water everywhere

It was a dark and stormy morning as the unaware couple began their fateful journey south into the heart of the disaster. Little did they know that their casual jaunt to the hills of southern Indiana would turn into the road trip from H-E- Double Hockey Sticks.

Sure, they might have thought it had been raining a little bit. Maybe if they had watched the news or listened to the radio instead of listening to CDs, they could have seen something coming.

But they had made this trip dozens of times and never seen so much as a large puddle on the road. There was nothing to worry about.

If my life were a novel then this is how the chapter about last Saturday might have started.

Paula and I awoke early to get down to Bedford, about an hour and a half away, by 9 a.m. Our girls had spent the week down there attending camp and the closing program was scheduled to begin promptly at nine. Knowing they would be disappointed if we didn’t make it, we willed ourselves to get up early on a Saturday morning and begin the trek.

Freshly nourished with our Egg McMuffins, we departed Plainfield on what would be come our version of the “Incredible Journey.”

As we headed toward Martinsville on State Road 267 we noticed some stopped traffic and flashing lights. It seems there was a small issue of about three feet of mud that had decided to end its residency on the side of the hill and take up occupancy on the highway. We were not getting through there anytime soon.

So we began backtracking our way north to try and scoot over to S.R. 37 for an alternate route. By this time we had already heard that route was having similar challenges so plan C was to get all the way over to I-65.

To make a long story short, after four detours and an additional three hours we were able to get over to I-65, down to Seymour, and into Bedford just before the camp put our kids up for auction as unclaimed property.

The trip back was not much different. By this time we were tuned into the play by play on the radio and figured our best chance was back the way we came. But before we could get back to the interstate it was also flooded and been shut down.

The old adage that “you can’t get there from here” became a reality.

“No Problem!” we said. “This will be fun! Let’s get a hotel with a pool!”

This would have been a great idea had we not chosen to stay in Columbus. After an emergency trip to Wal-Mart for clothes and then a quick dip in the pool for the kids, we went back outside to see what was happening. Uh oh. The water in the parking lot was rising. By 9 p.m. it was get out of Dodge or move our belongings to the roof of the hotel.

Call it karma or luck or God’s good grace, but by this time the interstate was open again and we could get all the way home. Just 10 hours late.

In all seriousness, while we had the inconvenience of a long day my family had the opportunity to see first hand what people in Southern Indiana have had to deal with. I can’t imagine the loss of property and memories that thousands of people and entire communities are dealing with.

This was, without a doubt, a disaster of magnificent proportions for the State of Indiana. All of this week, and I am sure for the next several weeks, our friends and family south of us will need potable water, dry toilet paper, and money to help them recover.

Please take time to provide assistance in whatever manner you feel led. And remember, if you send your monetary or other donations through an organization such as the American Red Cross you can help avoid the scams that will inevitably pop up.

And above all, now is a time to thank God for keeping so many safe.

— Kirby Kirkpatrick is a freelance writer and co-owner of Success Express in Plainfield. He may be reached by e-mailing to kirby@successexpressmp.com

        

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