Like everyone in town, my husband and I heard the flood brewing in the night. The rain drummed our metal roof without pause, a sound that’s often comforting… but one that turned more ominous by the hour.
It wasn’t at all surprising to wake that first day to find a message of distress about a friend on Indiana Avenue whose basement was slowly filling with water. The morning was spent with sandbags and sump pumps… and a nagging sense of dread as the water ignored the forecasts and refused to crest (later, the evening was spent in much the same way at our daughter’s house).
I chatted (helplessly) with a good-natured man in my friend’s neighborhood who struggled in vain to clear out a storm drain as water pooled in his yard. The pumps in his basement couldn’t keep up with the pace of the flood. “We don’t have insurance,” he said with a resigned smile.
Soon, Goshen’s First Responders appeared and made their way toward a house that sat further down the street in deeper water. The visual of a rescue team clad in wet suits helping a resident onto a raft is something I’d only seen on news reports about OTHER PEOPLE’S flooded cities. But these guys were men I actually recognized (they were trainers from my “Fire Ops 101” course for local elected officials).
This flood has been a striking reminder of what government is designed to do — which is to make public safety someone’s JOB.
Of course, government isn’t the only actor in a crisis. Throughout the week friends, neighbors and acquaintances across town have borrowed and lent pumps and shop vacs; they’ve given one another words of encouragement, hugs of support, and places to sleep. A couple of large churches offered space early on and the Red Cross set up quickly in their sanctuaries (thankfully, the beds they brought went mostly unused — but they were prepared for any scenario). Moving forward, Maple City Chapel will continue to help coordinate volunteers.
None of us could survive without the generosity that flows from people when a true calamity shows up. But as powerful as kindness is, it’s not a substitute for the structure and technical expertise that government provides. Professional firefighters and police officers; engineers and water/sewer superintendents; street department workers and building inspectors; and an elected mayor who has taken a pledge to care for an entire town… these are the people who monitor and measure our circumstances, who are charged with (who have charged themselves with) keeping Goshen’s residents healthy and safe.
Help in the midst of a crisis shouldn’t be like the lottery (Surprise! You’ve just randomly won a dehumidifier! Boy, are your neighbors with the soggy carpet going to be jealous.) Government exists to make sure everyone in need gets assistance — regardless of service club affiliation or church membership.
Floods are slow, drawn-out events, ones that wear people down (yep, it’s probably going to rain again this week even if your basement is still wet). We’ve heard the stories from other places; we know that enthusiastic volunteers eventually disappear (they’ve got their own jobs, how could they not disappear?). So, ultimately, we’ll need to count on the professionals who are in it for the long haul. They worked through the initial high water and closed roads. They’ve reached out to our county, state, and national governments in an effort to secure the resources we need to recover. They’ve hauled sand and measured water marks and assessed roads and pathways (then put it all in charts and graphs and on maps to make sense of it).
It’s not over. There’s plenty more to do. No one can promise that things will go smoothly every step of the way… because chances are they won’t. People will struggle. They’ll get frustrated. It won’t be easy.
But here is what I CAN promise, what I DO know: Goshen is in good hands. We have smart, capable, dedicated staff working every single day to make things better. And if you’ve been paying attention, you know that our young, first-term mayor deserves some serious praise. Day after day since the torrential rain fell, he’s stayed late and come in early alongside city staff. He’s answered phones and walked neighborhood streets — and even on a couple of hours of sleep, he still manages to crack the best joke in the room. Don’t worry, I’m not going get all totalitarian and demand that you throw a parade for him or anything. I’m just going to say that watching him rise to this challenge with decisiveness and grace makes me proud to call him Mayor.