Horace Rose smiles and holds a broom out the second story window of his house.

Come on Bessie, reach!

Rose leans out the window into the pouring rain.

Behind him, his family cheers him on.

He's stretching the broom toward the house next door,

which sits five feet away.

There, a little girl in a black dress and floppy white hat is leaning out of her bedroom window,

while her mother holds her waist. The girl, Bessie, tries to grab the pile of butterscotch candies that Rose has balanced on the bristles of the broom.

She's shrieking with laughter, and so is Rose.

That a girl.

Grab them, grab them. That a girl. girl.

Grab them.

Finally, Bessie snags the candies, spilling half of them into the flooded alley between the two houses.

Rose waves and ducks back into his home out of the rain.

His wife Margaret hands him a steaming mug of coffee and kisses him on the cheek.

It's four o'clock in the afternoon on May 31st, 1889 in Johnstown, Pennsylvania. It's a town that's used to heavy rains and occasional flooding, but this latest storm has been unprecedented.

There's a good three feet of water outside.

A new record. Basements are flooded, streets look like rivers, and everyone is stuck at home. But despite the hassles, the 51-year-old Rose isn't a good mood.

Rose has four sons and a daughter.

The two oldest boys are grown now,

with their own families and aren't around much.

But both came over this morning to move furniture out of the flooded

...