100 Year Flood, and that's what started it all.

It was long before I was born.

My dad was a kid when it happened, and they lost their house.

He doesn't remember much.

Grandma and grandpa sent him to stay with some friends that were up on higher ground when

the rain kept coming and coming.

He has vague memories of being bored out of his mind, and the adults coming and going,

talking to each other and hushed voices.

He remembers the woman and grandma's friend, cooking for what felt like all day, saying

that the food was going to the churches in the community center, and everywhere else that

people were staying who had lost their homes.

Then grandma and grandpa came back for him, and he found out there was no home to go back

to.

They lived in a rental for a bit over a year in the next town over.

It was a hard year, he said, as he was going to a different school and didn't know anyone.

But they were lucky.

They got a new house and moved back.

Lots of families that went away just never returned.

The town shrank after the flood, and while the population eventually recovered has new

families moved in, it lost a lot of people that remembered what happened.

Grandma died seven years ago.

Grandpa died five years ago, and dad, well he was only a kid.

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