In the days after the flood , life in Hamburg, Iowa, was measured by what it didn't have: no town hall, no church, no electricity, not even a free job. According to the mayor's calculations, there have been ten days without water. Wind One hundred and twenty.
It started in mid-March last year in a Central American city of about 1,000, an hour south of Omaha in southwestern Iowa. Say hello to "Cashstone" as the state of Hamburg said. Home to some of the most fertile farmland in the nation, the region owes its unparalleled land wealth to its location on the floodplain of the nation's longest river, the Missouri.
But suddenly, when the river rises above all previously recorded levels and threatens to wipe out Hamburg along with dozens of other small towns from South Dakota and Nebraska, the very source of its survival becomes the most terrible threat. is the limit and lies below.
At the time, a meteorologist told the Omaha World-Herald that the flooding occurred after an extremely furious "bombing hurricane" - a "monster". Such extreme storms have always existed, but scientists say they are becoming more intense and destructive due to the climate crisis. Hamburg will be flooded within a few months. Just six months later, the flood waters are finally starting to break, showing signs that normalization may be just around the corner.
The school gym is empty of donations. The municipality is reopening. The city's ATM starts working again; Finally, you can order more beers at Blue Moon or buy donuts and pizza from Casey's General Store.
Some people packed up and left, but most of the city seemed determined to clear the rubble. And behind the scenes, their volunteer mayor, who has slept less than four hours a night for months, is looking for a solution that will allow his employees to stay together. About half the city's homes have leaked, but his office has a letter from the Federal Emergency Management Agency saying most families seeking help are "not damaged enough" to receive help.
The rebuilding of Hamburg coincides with the start of the 2020 presidential campaign. As the nation wonders where our democracy is heading, as candidates board buses, pass town halls and discuss serious issues, everyone is asking different versions of the same question. : what vision should we make? In Hamburg, it is almost impossible for residents to get through a day without formulating their own personal response.
The transformation of these entrenched communities seems to be a deeply personal process in which cities move in relative isolation, regardless of what is going on in the wider political world. First there was a surge of anxiety in the midst of the crisis. The state media are coming to town. Members of Congress—Republicans and Democrats alike—have held rallies and hearings to protect cities like Hamburg and make sure this doesn't happen again. But as the waters recede, so does the spotlight, even as candidates and their supporters are scattered across what seems to be every inch of Iowa's 99 counties.
There is no sign of the upcoming Iowa presidential election in Hamburg. With the exception of recent local elections, there are few signs of an election. A recent drive up and down each of the city's residential streets revealed exactly three grass signs: two for former Indiana Mayor Pete Buttigieg and one for Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders, who won the 2016 Democratic election, including Fremont County's victory." “I love Bernie here,” Cathy Crane, a volunteer mayor, told me.
Donald Trump led the country in the 2016 general election, but people don't even talk about him or his impeachment process. Not because they were not interested. It was only when trying to figure out if the city had survived the flood that he turned his attention to the interior. "That's the size of our world today: 700 acres that make up this city," Crane said. "All our attention is here. I can't tell you what's going on outside of our borders."
Crain's says national politicians don't usually go to Hamburg for one reason: "We're small and poor." Vice President Mike Pence visited the remnants of Pacific Junction, about 33 miles away, but the President did not arrive during the flood. Although the Democratic presidential candidate spends a lot of time in Iowa, Hamburg has never been a popular destination.
Only two have been - Governor Washington. Jay Inslee and Representative from Hawaii. Tulsi Gabbard - both appeared after the flood. The first is Insley, whose short campaign focused on the threat of a climate crisis. He arrived in April, about a month after the flood, and used it as an opportunity to talk about global warming. While some in the city were grateful for the inconvenience, others didn't know what to do. As if they didn't know about the concept: these were people whose entire cities were still more than 10 meters under water, and some claim that farmers are better than others about the slightest changes in the weather over time. .
To some, campaigning at a painful time may seem premature. There are still those who complain about losing their home after 40 years. Or a young family cashing out all their savings to buy their dream home to avoid a mortgage and become an owner just days before the flood.
On a late-January Thursday night at the Blue Moon Bar and Grill, patrons joked about which table Republicans and Democrats would debate at, but you only have to go this far to find out what a woman believes. Normal and simple political language does not describe the complexities and contradictions that citizens have faced together, even now that the floods have shown them what it means to unite around a common goal. agree with each other or not.
Luke Fillmore, youth pastor of the local Methodist church, told me that he has witnessed "a willingness to sit in the midst of conflict and uncertainty, to be patient with each other" so that we can overcome superficial differences. He said he saw people "realize that some things are so good and so holy and so true that there are differences worth transcending."
Other people I spoke to echoed this theme. They say that living during a flood was definitely one of the most traumatic experiences they have ever experienced, but people have repeatedly told me that even on days when they followed all the usual rules, they experienced an overwhelming sense of fear. stops, and everyone does everything that is necessary for each other.
Even when someone from the state says it's illegal to run a school without water when there's no water in the city, for example, the principal allows the school to remain open for relief. The guard says it's okay, have someone shut us up, but keep the door open until then. The school will hold a Republican rally in the city, while Democrats are expected to convene 15 miles from the school in Sydney.
As terrible as the flood was, it showed them a better version of their city and made them more committed to survival. But the floods have also shown how vulnerable they really are, showing a new vulnerability in their situation. Despite all they have lost, they now risk losing not only their possessions and surroundings, but even more of that newfound sense of community.
So while the rest of the country is focused on wartime ties, blaming and spreading disease in 2020, the big news in Hamburg was the January announcement by Colonel John Hudson, commander of the US Army Corps of Engineers in the Omaha area. River along the Missouri River. “Since the spring of last year, we have been working non-stop to restore water supply. “To date, we have fixed the majority of access breaches and will be working through the winter months to address the remaining breaches.” But he added: "Even with great progress in restoring more than 350 miles of crater, the risk remains high."
As residents of the lowlands of southwestern Iowa, known as "riverbed" or "bottom" for short, Hamburgers have always recognized that their location is associated with a potential flood threat. Situated between two rivers and surrounded by a complex system of corridors, they have long known that flooding is the cost of living in some of the state's richest farmlands.
With a residency comes the acquisition of specialized skills: daily reading the front page of the National Weather Service's Extended Hydrological Forecast, reading the lines on river level maps for signs of creeping danger.
Hamburg is located in southwestern Iowa, between the Missouri and Nishnabotna rivers.
A system of dams surrounds the city and regulates the water levels in nearby rivers.
In March 2019, a combination of extreme weather, heavy snowfall and flooding caused by a dam hundreds of miles upstream left much of Hamburg under water.
The inhabitants took refuge in the village school, the only public building left on the mainland.
People count years by the number of floods they've lived through, the age of the water, and they've even developed their own built-in hazard warning system: an old flagpole that stands in the middle of the main street as a traffic junction. Dry land on one side. On the other hand, water. Even during the worst flood ever recorded in the city in 1952, water only managed to get through the tip of the flagpole.
So, one morning in March last year, when the people of Hamburg woke up to a sudden and unexpected rise in river levels on the daily chart of the Hydrological Forecasting Service, the downstream residents began to gather, mentally preparing for the inevitable. This is clearly visible. All of them several times accepted the words of the veterans who had been in the flood, for example, they said to everyone who wanted to listen: “I tell you, it won’t pass through the spear, but if it does, then I’ll drink every drop ..
Usually the river that always threatens the city is the Nishnabotna, a small tributary that flows east of the community. But this time, the threat came from seven miles west of the Missouri River, a source that once seemed unfathomable. Strange spring storms - "bomb cyclones" - brought down torrential rains on the already snow-covered extreme northern lands.
The mixed waters sent an unprecedented volume of water into the Missouri River, which froze over after a severe cold snap. The ice broke into blocks, moving forward like a ram. And it all flows down the Missouri, eventually accumulating in a reservoir behind the Gavins Point Dam on the South Dakota-Nebraska border. According to the Corps, this particular tank was not designed to hold this amount of water.
KTV
Fearing more catastrophe if the dam failed, the Corps, tasked with managing the 2,341-mile river from Montana to Missouri, ordered the dam's waterways open, drawing criticism for its priorities. those who are ruthless and suffering. Because when the spillway opened, 10,000 cubic meters of water per second began to hit dozens of communities in river valleys from South Dakota to Missouri, including Hamburg.
The Corps estimated that the water broke through the dam in 50 places, rose above the ridge, and then washed it away. Crane said the water "given him incredible speed" as he moved towards Hamburg. "Think of a roller coaster."
The city realized that it was facing something unprecedented. A team of 75 volunteers began shoveling the sand as fast as they could, constructing a makeshift barrier eight blocks away from the flagpole, using materials they were used to seeing in the context of more fortified military outposts. But soon the water seeped in along this last road and along Main Street.
A few blocks from the flagpole, the residents of an old mansion known to everyone in the city as "The City of Wrinkles" are awakened early by volunteer firefighters knocking on their door. They only have 15 minutes to catch what they can. Most of them were in nightgowns. They left prescriptions, wallets, family photos, hearing aids.
Rivers cover two-thirds of the city. At the end of the city, water hit the roof. Bypassed propane tanks, refrigerators, bales of corn stalks weighing more than a ton. The man reported seeing a refrigerator full of beer.
A local farmer soon inspected the wreckage in a helicopter and saw a small mound of earth jutting out from the center of what could now be mistaken for a tidal flat, the helicopter's blade turning the deep water into white mountains. There are moose and coyotes on the small island. And they all go to school, the only public building on the continent.
James W. Nennemann
Even before the disaster, Hamburg superintendent Mike Wells was trying to radically rethink the city's integrated K-8 school system. In the five years since he was hired by the county executive, Wells has received grants to install professional woodworking equipment, screen printers, embroidery machines, 3D printers, industrial sewing machines, welding equipment, laser cutting, and hydroponics. greenhouse. Every Friday, all students, even in kindergarten, spend the day learning a particular profession.
“Our goal is to teach our students to be active,” Welsh told me. “If you are a person of action, you will always succeed, no matter which path you choose in life. After all, no one cares if you can study to get great marks on standardized tests. It is important for them that you know how to solve life's problems, problems, how to solve things.
One of his first efforts as a manager was to set up a school farm: sheep, pigs, chickens, geese, and goats graze in the meadow between the schoolyard and one of the city's main roads. Students are responsible for all aspects of animal life. They deliver eggs from chicks to parents who come home; they slaughter a pig and donate the meat to the local food bank.
While we were talking, a group of students from the fourth to eighth grades were restoring the roof. "Beware of those knives," Welsh yelled. "I think we can always point the finger at the ice, but I wouldn't want to get to that." Another group tries to make amends when one of the most prolific goat escapers tries to test his weakness and accidentally gets his head stuck. From time to time, Wells interrupted him with quick demonstrations - "cutting tiles like this" - but otherwise he left them alone.
“We didn’t see them,” he said. “They don't need a guardian. We show them how to do it, but we don't fix it for them. In fact, the fence around the farm took about three months to build before the students figured out how to calculate the change in height.
Then, in the spirit of keeping the school full of activists, it made sense that Wells would open the school's doors during a flood and ensure that the students were a vital part of the city's rebuilding.
Although their gymnasium was turned into a charity center and their classroom became the headquarters of the city government, classes continued as usual. The mayor worked away from his home economics class while students cooked meals around him and entertained the city's wrinkled seniors who spent the first few days after the flood on gym loungers.
Since the town still had no water, Wells took the students home to collect their clothes and then sent the shipment to a church in a nearby town to run it through industrial washers and dryers before the kids brought it back home. Them. . owner. in a compressed and wrapped package.
Wells himself grew up "mostly poor" in Alabama and Mississippi; his mother worked as a maid. So when the floods hit, he personally delivered donated trailers to refugee families and then offered his yard to those with no parking space. But it is difficult with numbers: in total, 100 hectares were removed from the city map and became uninhabited. The waters of the river left 73 emergency houses and destroyed 40 residential buildings.
The students understood that it would take a long time to find money, not to mention land, to build a new house. I wonder if, with all the building skills they've gained, they can help build a home for someone they've lost? Уэллс сказал, что они будут, и он поможет им осуществить это. Он нашел человека, готового пожертвовать землю напротив школы, а также местного подрядчика, который согласился сделать фундамент, водопровод, электрику и гипсокартон. Он и дети сделают все остальное. Дом по сути будет подарком, цена и условия оплаты на уровне, который может себе позволить человек со скромным доходом. Он предполагает, что студенты в конечном итоге разработают небольшие подразделения, которые станут учебными лабораториями и проектами по развитию сельских районов.
Проект строительства скважин пока остается мечтой. План состоит в том, чтобы вернуть среднюю школу в Гамбург с учебным планом, предлагающим торговые сертификаты. Хотя многие из небольших железнодорожных городков вдоль автобана к северу от Гамбурга сдались, в них остались закрытые выезды, заброшенные дома, грязные игрушки, хотя идея вырасти в городке, оправившемся от наводнения, не является сумасшедшей. . . разбросаны по болотам.
В отличие от многих других сельских районов, население которых с годами сократилось, население Гамбурга до наводнения оставалось на удивление стабильным. Богатство окружающего сельскохозяйственного района обеспечило необычайно большое количество высокооплачиваемых рабочих мест в черте города Гамбурга, включая мельницу для попкорна, элеваторы, австралийскую компанию по переработке зерна и крупный дилерский центр John Deere.
В городе также есть хорошие больницы, которые становятся все более редкими в сельской местности по всей стране, в которых работает более 100 человек. И практический образовательный опыт Уэллса — сельский эквивалент частной вальдорфской школы, где многие элитные родители города терпят очереди и тратят тысячи долларов на зачисление своих детей — привлекает городские семьи.
Но сам масштаб наводнения и реальный страх того, что оно может произойти снова, угрожают всему этому. Финансирование школы в Айове зависело от зачисления, а усилия Уэллса зависели от удержания учеников и потерпели бы неудачу, если бы семьи уехали. Осенний отчет о наборе показал 12-процентное падение 27 студентов. «Если мы не примем новых студентов или не освободим место для студентов, которые уже здесь, — сказал мне Уэллс в октябре, — я очень обеспокоен тем, что все это закончится. Без этих вещей я не вижу насколько это устойчиво.
В течение нескольких дней из города никто не выезжал. Есть предприятия, которые могут вывезти их оттуда, если захотят отвезти в любой город рядом с водой и электричеством, душевыми и туалетами, продуктовыми магазинами и прачечной. Но никто не хочет уходить. Мэр сказал мне: «Никто не хочет уезжать. «Вода в реке еще высокая. Есть ощущение того, что еще может произойти, и мы хотим быть там, чтобы помогать друг другу.
Джулиан Хинонес/CNN
По его расчетам, около месяца он не выйдет за черту города. Перед потопом он решил: больше бегать не будет. Он работал волонтером последние 12 лет, и, хотя город восстановил его на посту мэра, он устал и готов к тому, чтобы его место занял кто-то другой. «Когда меня впервые избрали, я баллотировался», — сказал Крейн. «Я все время проверяю».
Крейн, бросивший школу из Гамбурга, вернулся домой в 1999 году в возрасте 50 лет после успешной карьеры в чикагской маркетинговой и коммуникационной фирме Frankel & Co. крупнейших клиентов, включая McDonald's.
Крэйн склонен преуменьшать значение этой части своей истории всякий раз, когда кто-то поднимает ее. «Я совсем не скучаю по колготкам», — говорила она и смеялась, но если поймать ее в более мудрый момент, она выразилась так: «То, чему меня научили эти годы, так это тому, что нет смысла беспокоиться. чтобы получить похвалу людей, как будто это большое дело, достаточно достижений. Они скажут: ну, ты нас накормил, хорошо, но что ты приготовил для нас сегодня? Речь идет о работе, всегда усердно работайте, всегда делайте все возможное, доверяя чистоте процесса.
Но, увидев, как жители его города входят в школу после наводнения, Крейн понимает, что не может покинуть ее. Это был бывший начальник пожарной охраны и городской парикмахер Билл Лэмб, который на протяжении поколений стриг жителей и потерял не только свой магазин на Мейн-стрит, но и дом, который он и его жена Барб делили 37 лет. Это были Кейт и Дэниел Стокстелл, на свадьбе которых Крэйн присутствовал несколько недель назад. У них даже не было времени открыть большую часть своих подарков, когда им пришлось покинуть свою ферму через городскую площадь. Это была Пэтси Камман, которая вместе со своим мужем управляла теперь уже затопленной местной заправкой вместе с их домом, и на вопрос, как ей сбежать, просто сказала: «Я могу».
Крейн знал историю каждого, потребности каждого, мог задокументировать каждую потерю. «Иногда я думаю, что разница между городской жизнью и жизнью маленького городка — это разница между широтой и глубиной», — говорит он. «В городах речь идет о максимально возможном расширении, о том, чтобы как можно глубже узнать маленькую страну.
Поскольку он лично знает о бедственном положении города так близко, это подогревает его гнев по поводу того, что, по его словам, можно предотвратить. — Это не так, — сказал Крейн, указывая на обломки, окружавшие его. «Ничего из этого не должно было случиться».
В 2011 году, когда город уже столкнулся с потенциальной угрозой наводнения из Миссури, Гамбург запросил экстренное разрешение у Корпуса, чтобы быстро добавить восьмифутовую дамбу для защиты города. Работая восемь дней подряд и с помощью местных фермеров за их заработную плату, Корпусу удалось вовремя построить эффективный барьер. Наконец, он сдерживал воды Миссури в течение 120 дней и держал город сухим.
Позже все хотели, чтобы лишняя высота на плотине осталась. Но, по словам Мэтта Краевски, начальника отдела обеспечения готовности округа Омаха, «это всегда должно было быть временным». Корпус не хочет, чтобы любители строительства рождались в далеких от идеальных условиях и не следовали их правилам. По закону все импровизированные действия должны быть отменены после окончания чрезвычайного положения. Временный отказ от мемориальной доски поставит под угрозу статус города, находящегося под федеральной защитой. — Мы хотим остаться, — сказал Крейн.
Есть и другой способ: если местное самоуправление захочет поднять насыпь выше согласованной высоты, оно может взять на себя полную стоимость доработок, сделанных по утвержденным Arma спецификациям. Но это означает, что город должен очистить весь мусор, который он сбрасывает в реку, а затем найти свои собственные источники финансирования — до нескольких миллионов долларов — если он хочет восстановить его из его нынешнего состояния. как залог будущего.
Крейна и многие жители слышали: «Такова жизнь в уловке-22». Разве временная оговорка не прекращается на 120 дней? Не является ли это признаком долговечности его конструкции? Нет возможности исключить? Крейн сказал, что звонил политикам и чиновникам из отделения Корпуса в Омахе и даже защищал дело Гамбурга в Вашингтоне. Но они не могли получить освобождение, и никто не предлагал финансирование. Город пытался собрать деньги на подъем самой реки, в том числе размещал на YouTube видеоролики, на которых жители поют и танцуют, в надежде привлечь внимание к своей борьбе. Но все их усилия по сбору средств не увенчались успехом, и им пришлось жить по низким ставкам со всеми тревогами и разочарованиями, которые с этим связаны.
В 2011 году у них было восемь дней на подготовку. «Мы действительно думали, что если это произойдет снова, у нас будет время заставить Корпус снова поднять уровень воды», — сказал Крейн. Но когда Миссури вернулся в 2019 году, прошло менее 48 часов. Не было даже времени просить о срочном временном дополнении к ужасу.
Через несколько часов после наводнения 2019 года, убедившись, что все находятся в физической безопасности, несмотря на текущую психологическую травму, Крейн и городской инспектор Шерил Оуэн начали следить за списком дел. не только помочь городу в его краткосрочном восстановлении, но и обеспечить его будущее. Самое главное, что пришло на ум Крэйну, это то, что он может посмотреть в глаза каждому в городе и поклясться им, что вода поднимется, чтобы они не боялись делать в городе свои дела, чтобы сохранить здесь свои семьи. . Он знал, что если люди не подчинятся быстро, люди запаникуют, и городу придет конец.
«Я различаю наводнения и стихийные бедствия. Это была катастрофа. Здесь умеют восстанавливать после наводнения. Но еще одна подобная катастрофа действительно станет для нас концом, — сказал мне Крейн. — Никто не сможет пройти через это снова».
Есть причина для страха: в январе Корпус сообщил, что снегопадов в Монтане и Дакоте уже больше, чем в прошлом году, и что города по всему Миссури поглощают потенциальный сток. , важнее местной погоды. модель. Люди уже Гамбург havasından nağlımırdı. Parlarono tra loro delle previsoni nel Montana.
Ed è possibile che gli anni futuri posso essere anche peggiori. Национальная оценка климата, опубликованная в 2018 г., в 2018 г., в определенном районе штата Миссури, в определенном районе из-за ситуации с наводнениями, потрей ведере ла частота событий высокой интенсивности 50% .. Alcuni hanno suggerito che, данные ла перспективы ди уна crescente волатильность дель темп и потенциал в результате стихийного бедствия, forse è tempo che chi vive в сообществе soggette a inondazioni, как Гамбург, si muova. "Spostati su un terreno più elevato" является лично политическим кандидатом, Эндрю Янгом.
La prova di quella prescrizione è очевидный lungo il percorso del diluvio. Пасифик-Джанкшен, где побывал Пенс, почти город-призрак, большая часть его корпуса до сих пор пуста. Эпоха Ма Крейна определила не vedere che ciò accadesse ad Amburgo. Dopo l'alluvione, aveva smesso di dormire e riusciva a malapena a tenere gli occhi aperti per tutti i pianti che aveva fatto la mattina menre andava al lavoro dove nessuno poteva vedere - solo i suoi due cani a bordo di unc dorato cheera stato sopranominato «Потопная машина».
"Le persone che non mi conoscono potrebbero sottovalutarmi perché pensano che io sia solo una vecchietta grassa di una città di cui nessuno ha sentito parlare", dice ora. “Ma quando lavoravo per Frankel, avevo semper la valigia pronta. Se da qualche parte c'era un cliente arabbiato, mi mettevano su un aereo per occuparmene. Fondamentalmente, ero il pugile che potevano lanciare sul ring per assorbire i pugni. Poi mi davi qualche spruzzo d'acqua e io entravo e ne bevevo ancora. Alla fine, si sono stancati, me ne sono andato e quando siamo tornati da loro erano di nuovo felici con noi.
Ha portato il suo caso al Governmentatore dell'Iowa, Kim Reynolds, un repubblicano. Crain è tornato con 6,3 milion në dollarë në fondi statali che la città potrebbe shfrytëzuar për aumentare l'argine stesso dhe altri 940,000 dollarë për çdo città potrebbe utilizzare për sovvenzionare le acquisizi. “Questo mi ha sorpreso”, ha detto Crain. “Che sarebbe stato lo stato dell'Iowa a salvarci. Siamo uno stato relativamente piccolo e povero. Ho semper pensato che con i disastri fosse il Governo Federale a offrire tutti i soccorsi. Si scopre che ci siamo salvati.
Sette mesi dopo l'alluvione c'erano delle dispense appoggiate su un tavolo nella sala della comunità della Chiesa Metodista Unita në Amburgo. Reagimet e komunitetit Erano Intitolati: Fazat e fatkeqësisë. Dopo che si è sentito l'impatto iniziale dell'evento, zare il volantino, ci sarà quella che viene chiamata la faza eroica - "c'è l'altruismo" - seguita da un periodo di intenso legagame con la comunità - "l ottimismo esiste... sono disponibili numerose mundësi... per stabilisci e costruisci un rapporto... e costruisci relazioni.
È stata una delle conclusioni più profonde di cui hanno parlato molti dei sopravvissuti all'alluvione, settimane dopo. Per quanto terrificanti e travolgenti fossero stati i primi giorni, c'era anche un senso di euforia e meraviglia per come tutti semplicemente facevano ciò che era necessario, si aiutavano a vicenda senza fare domande e si toglievano tutti gli ostacoli di mezzo.
It was as if the normal rules of the world — those that placed barriers between people, that caused rifts and frustrations — had been suspended, and people could act purely according to what was right. “The ultimate expression of how to be there for each other as people,” was how the pastor of the church described it.
Just shy of 30, still trying to finish seminary, with a pregnant wife and 2-year-old daughter, Luke Fillmore had only been serving as pastor for nine months when the flood came. And yet, because of recent deaths and reassignments at the other churches, he was also, by default, one of the most senior religious figures in town.
Recognizing that he was someone the town was looking to for guidance, Fillmore threw himself into providing stability and leadership. Early on, he and his congregation decided that they would make it their mission to help anyone in town who needed it, no questions asked. For months, they kept a running list of what people needed and each weekend, assisted by Fillmore's contacts from other congregations, they have worked their way through every request: six men to drywall a house; three people to power wash an apartment's basement bathrooms of the mud that daubs every surface; six people to help load debris for the dump. No one in need is turned away.
In many ways, Fillmore said, he believes that the flood allowed the community to see how it might remake itself to be there for every one of its members. Several times, he paused to collect himself as we spoke, saying he had never seen anything like it — “the good and the grace” as he put it, that people had shown each other — and he did not think he had articulated to his congregation enough how tenderly and how fiercely they cared for each other. And how much that taught him. “It is my understanding,” he told me, “that this is all the grace of God.”
Last fall, on All Saints Day, he spoke to his congregation about how they were inside a moment where “time and space get a little wonky” as their thoughts turned to all those who had come before them. “As we think of all the sacrifices they have made for us, it's not that hard to imagine sacrificing for others, is it,” he said. He did not reference the flood directly, but everyone knew he was speaking of it as he reminded them that to think of all those who come before us is also to think of the legacy we leave to all those who come after us.
“We have seen, to share that light, that grace with each other — there's nothing on Earth we can't do,” said Fillmore, who studied linguistics as an undergraduate and once imagined that he would become a translator, before he had his calling.
“You have been fathers and mothers to each other, all of you. Friends, you have done well. Maybe no one has said that to you over all these weeks. But I am saying it now: You have done well. And now I'll have you turn to person next to you. Please look them in the eye and tell them they have done well. Tell them: Good job.”
As people mumbled the words to each other, there were tears.
And in that moment they felt again what it was like to see each other purely in relation to one another, and it was all still close and vivid enough that it might inspire not just a restoration of what was, but, as the pastor hoped, radical solutions “for what could be.”
But how long could it last? According to the handout on the table in the church: After community cohesion comes disillusionment.
As fall turned to winter , the water finally retreated enough to reveal the fields that had been hidden underneath, leaving thick deposits of sand that called to mind desolate moonscapes. Much of that land, held in families for generations, would likely be unfarmable now, the cost of trying to remove all that sand too prohibitive. On other acreages, willows and weeds grew thick in place of corn.
The river had carved deep channels in the earth and traced the fissures in the community. Marriages spoiling under all that water. Those who turned to drink. Another taken to his bed. Calls to the hotline specifically for farmers contemplating suicide.
To stay busy and make money, to stay sane and keep their employees on payroll, many of the farmers whose fields were flooded went to work for the Corps, using their equipment and even some of the sand and clay excavated from their now-fallow land to help rebuild the levee system around the Missouri.
It was a near constant procession of farm equipment, rolling well into the night as they hurried to finish the work before the worst of the ice and snow hit.
There were other things that rankled, emerging frustrations as it felt more and more like the experiment in communal democracy forged in the days of flood was bogged down by the old, familiar institutional structures that they had temporarily delighted in suspending.
The plan for the house built by the school students had hit a snag, and its foundation remained unpoured. Despite loving the idea, the city planning commission had been unable to approve the submitted building plans because the house would be too close to its neighbor. As the chief architect of the school's philosophy to empower do-ers, it was hard for Wells to accept any delays.
They were doing this for all the right reasons. Didn't the city desperately need more housing? This was a win-win. Couldn't they issue a variance? The answer: No. And then Wells came up with one last idea: visit the owner of the neighboring lot to see if maybe after Wells explained the students' vision, the homeowner might donate some of his land to create the needed buffer. There was no guarantee it would work, but he also couldn't let it go until he was certain he'd exhausted every option.
Meanwhile, Crain and Owen had managed to secure state money that would allow the city to purchase abandoned homes in the flood plain, raze them, and resell the lots. Through the state, she also connected residents to a program that made new modular homes affordable to qualified buyers. The first house purchased under the program was bought by Kate and Daniel Stockstell, the newlyweds, and it arrived at the beginning of December.
It said something about how much the town was desperate to see something finally added rather than taken away, neighbors lined dozens deep along the block surrounding the lot to watch the crane release the two-bedroom, two-bathroom home onto its foundation — not before accidentally grazing it against one of the trees on the property.
Crain tapped state funds to help businesses in the parts of the Main Street that could be rebuilt and she learned that the city would be eligible for a portion of a $96 million pot of federal economic development funds that would be distributed between several flood ravaged counties in Iowa. She hoped some of that money could be used toward a subdivision. The city had also been in talks with a developer who was interested in building a hotel and a bar and grill on Main Street, next to City Hall.
But after the initial intensity that defined those early days of the flood, the tireless work toward helping each other that was visible, measurable — in sandbags filled, in animals rescued, in emergency housing secured, in the way the donations in the gymnasium piled up on tables and shelves, filling every corner — some people had not yet adjusted to this phase, where so much remained abstract, bureaucratic, largely invisible. Every day, Crain and Owen searched for new grants, working Crain's Rolodex, which had gotten quite thick over her 12 years in office. All the while, for all these efforts, they still faced the biggest unresolved issue that could topple it all: The river itself.
The town had found the money that would let them raise the levee to the Corps specifications, as well as to buy land and dirt from a farmer. But the weather was still not cooperating, and water still sat on either side of the levee where the work needed to be done. Even more urgent was the fact that construction couldn't move ahead under freezing conditions, raising the possibility that it wouldn't get done before spring brings the chance of floods all over again.
That looms over everything. At the Blue Moon, a contractor named Brad Yost approached Crain and joked that people were still “sleeping in their waders at night until that levee goes up.” He and his wife Roxie had just put the finishing touches on their own dream home when the water came last year, and they'd decided to start over. Now they were close to replacing what had been destroyed.
“You're not afraid, are you?” Roxie Yost asked Crain. It was 304 days out from the flood, with two months to go before the spring melt.
“I am,” Crain replied.
“Don't say that,” Roxie responded. “Now you're making me scared.”
Against this backdrop of uncertainty, the residents of Hamburg are trying to go on with the rhythms of normal life. One December weekend began with a funeral, the slow cortege winding its way to the town graveyard, at the top of a steep hillside, where there is no water, only sky. But the next day there would two weddings — both young local couples in their twenties who have chosen to make their lives in the town where they are from, where their families are from. One ceremony was at the United Trinity Church — and officiated by Crain's brother — while the other was officiated at the Methodist church by Fillmore.
The two congregations were still worshipping together, as they had in the early days of the flood, as the members of the UTC slowly rebuilt their damaged church with their own hands. One Sunday in December, Fillmore addressed the combined congregations, and he chose to speak about debt.
He'd been reading about John Wesley. “And I kind of like this dude,” Fillmore said. Wesley made it his mission, Fillmore said, to pay the debts of those in his day trapped in debtors' prison. Imagine what that would look like today, Fillmore challenged them. What if people trapped in medical debt suddenly got a call from their local church? Or someone with student loans? Maybe it's not even financial debt specifically, Fillmore went on. “What if we started building houses? What if we started bringing back people who left because of the flood? What if we gave people places to live?”
In January, a group of community members, inspired by Fillmore's words, gathered at the Methodist Church to make real plans. Could they buy distressed properties and rehabilitate them? Or should they take on new construction for low-income buyers? How could they serve the neediest residents, especially those who needed rental properties, someone asked. Framed in the window behind them was the still-empty senior housing complex. What if they bought the property as a nonprofit, and brought it back as affordable housing?
Everyone agreed and they began to divide up tasks to prepare a pitch. In the coming days, some people assembled in this room would likely attend the Republican caucuses and others would attend the Democratic caucuses, but in this moment they were in perfect agreement on the solution.
Just a short drive up the road from the church, two lambs capered in the school farmyard. The students had been there for their birth. There was to have been a third lamb, but it died, stillborn. “Even that was a powerful lesson,” Wells said, as we watched the students break ice from the water buckets and shake food at the babies and compete to see who could take them in their arms. Behind us, in the woodshop, a group of students raised hammers to nails, framing the walls of the house that they hoped one day they could still build.
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Editing: Allison Hoffman and Kaeti Hinck
Supervising video producer: Jacque Smith
Photo editor: Brett Roegiers
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