I was awakened from my Sunday morning snooze by something that sounded like the shower running. I supposed that Amy had decided to get up early to get a shower. I sat up to discover that the shower sound was, in fact, rain falling outside our bedroom window.
Amy and I traveled to middle Tennessee this weekend to celebrate grandson Madden’s second birthday. We kept him in Knoxville the week before and were to take him home during that weekend. However, the weather was supposed to be severe, so we stayed in Knoxville and traveled west on Sunday, dropped him off, and drove home. I’d have forgone this trip, but missing the only grandchild’s birthday would have been an almost unforgivable sin.
Our trip to Nashville on Friday was made in beautiful weather. We arose Saturday to steady rainfall. Madden’s birthday party was held inside, and he pouted a little about not being able play with his new toys outside. I watched the continuing “ark floater” fall and the backyard turn into a swift flowing creek. The party was a success, in spite of guests being trapped indoors.
Sunday morning, I sat on our covered balcony and watched the storms attack Nashville. Television weather prognosticators warned of wind shears. I discovered they were talking about winds that ripped across the area and drove sheets of rain. At home, we’ve had shears and down drafts, but I’ve always considered them the precursors of tornadoes.
I watched from our second floor condo as downspouts poured gallons of water out past the splash plates and onto the grass. Small streams rushed toward the asphalted drives and carried with them mulch from landscaped areas. Water stood on the road at the entrance and eventually covered both lanes.
Before long, it was apparent that the rain was going to be dangerous in amounts. Swollen creeks looked much more like raging rivers. On one stretch of I-24, a slew of cars and trucks were under water. A mobile home floated by, hung up on a car caught and in the waters, and sank as a second vehicle rammed into it. The structure crumpled before our eyes, and the video was shown nationally before long.
Lacey and Nick live in Bellevue, the community hit hardest by the flooding. Their house is on a hill, and they felt safe. However, by mid-Sunday morning, the waters had begun to creep up their yard, and when it stopped, the flood was no more than fifteen feet from the small fenced area around their house. Amy and I fretted most of the day as we were unable to reach Lacey’s house to check on her, Nick, and Madden. To our surprise, our daughter showed up about 2:00 p.m. She’s enough like her dad to get restless when she’s confined in any place too long. Lacey found a route that was above the waters and then made a b-line to our place. We hugged, and smiles crossed our faces. Then we traveled back to her house for a few hours of togetherness.
By the time the rain subsided, Nashville had reported more than fifteen inches of rain, although in plenty of places the total was recorded as between eighteen and twenty inches. Even the first number is more than the greatest recorded amount for a month in Nashville.
Amy and I had made up our minds to brave the torrential rains and strike out for Knoxville. In the next minute, the news reported that one section of I-40 in the downtown area was closed due to flooding. We were stuck. At last report the section that closed sometime around 8:00 a.m. was still closed at 10:00 p.m. Traffic was backed up for miles. One individual set out for work at one television station at 10:00 a.m. and at 2:00 p.m. was still sitting in traffic on the same Interstate.
On Monday morning, Amy and I once got on the road toward home. We hoped that the roads would have cleared enough for us to make the trip. At least for a few weekends, I plan on being safe and secure in Knoxville. I don’t want to see another “duck drowner” for a while.
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