September 13, 2004
Gone, gone, gone
On 30 August over the course of six hours, the tropical storm named Gaston dumped twelve inches of rain on Richmond. That's a lot of rain. Think about it. You know those summer storms where it rains like hell for an hour, you'd swear it was two inches of rain, but then the weatherperson says you only got a tenth of an inch? This was like that only, well, more so.
In my mom's neighborhood, the storm sewers backed up into people's houses. Mom got off easy with only fifteen inches of water in her basement. Her neighbor had eight feet of water. The alleys of the Bellevue neighborhood are still full of puffed up particle board furniture, dead futons and area rugs, and gaping refrigerators (doors removed for safety).
Two power substations (the ones serving Bellevue and Church Hill—my neighborhood) were destroyed by flooding and both neighborhoods were without power for three days until the power company trucked in temporary replacement substations. I'm still convalescing at my mom's; I'm glad I had the foresight to flatten out the hospital bed that I'm living on right now before the power went out. And we were lucky to be at home. Our boyfriends both got stuck on the road and didn't get home till ten o'clock that night. The interstates and the expressway were closed all through town.
One of the hardest hit areas was really close to (my) home. Down in Shockoe Bottom, the Well-Laid Carpets At A Price buildings that I'd been planning to photograph again (all I have is this picture) were knocked over when floodwaters slammed a truck into them. One of them had the ghost of a building on one side. The interior walls of a building that had been on the adjacent lot still clung to the exterior of one, with gaps in the plaster showing where the floors and staircases had run.
The park below Richmond Hill slumped across 21st Street. I always walked those steps for exercise, but they end in midair now.
The earth supporting Route 5 down around Rocketts Landing eroded away. Route 5 right through here was such a lovely bit of a drive: an old concrete road with trees growing up close and glimpses of the downtown skyline peeking through with the river at your left hand. They'll have to tear up the road, and the woods, to rebuild it. It'll never be the same.
Roads washed out, buildings flooded, cars piled up like Hot Wheels in a messy kid's toybox, and I had to take these pictures from the passenger seat of Oz's car. Yeah, a dramatic disaster and I can't photograph it. Well, Hurricane Ivan is due next week. Maybe I'll be walking by then.
I'd trade any photographs to have my parks and roads and buildings back again.
472 words | September 13, 2004 11:36 AM | Shutterbug