A few points of background before we proceed with the story: I work in a small, independently owned jewelry/gift shop in a small town in Southern Vermont. For those of you who haven't kept abreast of Hurricane Irene, the entire state of Vermont, especially the Southernmost areas, were badly flooded on Sunday.
Flash back to late last week. I'm off on Fridays and Saturdays, and after hearing the very serious weather warnings, spent those days making preparations for the worse. I stockpiled water, food, and batteries. I tied down patio furniture. I even had a friend come by and cut down some trees that were close enough to fall on the house. Now, the storm was forecast to strike our area beginning Saturday night and go all day Sunday, with torrential rains and high winds. Saturday morning I called my boss just to make absolutely sure that we weren't going to be open during the storm (really...who in their right minds go out during a hurricane to buy earrings?) And here is how that conversation went.
Me: So, we're not going to be open tomorrow, right?
Boss: Ummmm, yeah. Why wouldn't we be?
Me: Because of the storm.
Boss: It's just going to be some rain and wind.
Me: Ummm....have you SEEN the weather forecasts?
Boss: Yeah. It's not going to be that bad.
Me: Well, I'm not going to leave the house tomorrow.
Boss: (derisive snort) You're not coming in?
Me: No. It's supposed to be really bad and I don't really want to get stranded in town.
Boss: (another derisive grunt) It's not going to be that bad.
Me: Nobody is going to be out. The grocery stores are empty. Everyone is hunkering down for this.
Boss: (put upon sigh) I guess I'll see if Co-worker will be all right here by herself.
Me: NOBODY is going to be out shopping during this storm.
Boss: (another sigh) It's fine. You don't have to come in.
Me: I seriously wouldn't be open if I were you.
Boss: It's not going to be that bad.
Normally, I do whatever bosses tell me. In this economy, with unemployment as high as it is, I consider myself very fortunate to have a job. But the weather forecast was ridiculously scarey and I live in another town about 10 miles south. I really didn't relish the thought of ending up in a Red Cross center, away from my hubby and critters.
Fast forward to Sunday. I talked to co-worker early in the morning, and apparently Boss ended up closing the store for the day. Smart move. The storm moved in and it rained. And it rained. And it rained. The town where I live is at a higher elevation than where I work, so my house was fine. It was a much different story in town. Hubby and I tuned in to the police scanner and what unfolded throughout the day was terrifying. Fire fighters had to rescue people who had been swept into raging waters. Rivers overflowed their banks. Much of the downtown area was evacuated. Eventually, a state of emergency was declared and the town was shut down. Go to Youtube. Type in 'car in river in Bennington, Vermont after Hurricane Irene flooding'. Watch that thirty second video. The video is pretty scary, but what you don't see in the clip is that the concrete wall that you see that car slam into was horribly compromised. Sink holes 12 feet wide had fallen on the river banks and water was pushing those walls. If you could have heard the nervousness in the voices of rescue and dispatch on the scanner, you would know how serious it was. Did I mention that the store that I work in is about 4 blocks away, due west from the very spot where that video was shot? After hearing that the walls could give way, I decided to call my boss at home, to give her a heads up on what could be a potentially bad situation for her store. Her husband answered, and seeing as he is co-owner, I gave him the low-down on what was going on in town (Boss and her husband live just over the New York border, west of where the store is located)
Boss' husband tells me I need to stop listening to the scanner. Only, he says it in this very calm, very gentle and very condescending voice. After talking to him, I didn't really give a shit about what happened to the store anymore.
Fast forward to Sunday evening. The storm is winding down. State of emergency is still in place. Roads have washed out. Bridges are gone. There was even a house in a town to the east that was washed away by the flood. It's all over the news that the National Guard has been called in. And, as the news stories come in, we discover that Bennington County was hit severely. We also learn that Windham County, about 45 minutes east has water up to the second floors of houses. It's mayhem. This is the worst flooding this state has experienced ever. Ever. A meteorologist on the Weather Channel tears up talking about the devastation in Southern Vermont.
It's bad news.
Now, full circle to this morning. I get up and get ready to go to work. Friends call me and tell me not to go - that there's no possible way there will be any customers today. They tell me that the Sheriff has announced that if you don't absolutely have to be on the road, stay home. But I know that if I call the boss again, I'll be met with the same "attitude" as I did when I called on Saturday and Sunday. Besides, I figure if I make an attempt to go in and am turned away by police, they can't give me any grief. So off to work I go. No police stop me. As a matter of fact, there is an abundance of cars on the road in town, most of them with out of state plates. Several of these out-of-towners come in to the store and tell me that they've traveled from neighboring states with the sole purpose of ogling the flood damage in our town. One woman complains about not being able to get to Woodford to see the damage. 'Gee, lady, I'm so sorry both bridges that connect that town with ours (and also with the only hospital within 50 miles) have 15 foot wide washouts. How rude of me not to have that taken care of before you got here.'
Another woman complains about how difficult it is to get around town, what with all the detours and barriers. Another woman wants to know why some of the restaurants in town aren't opened. None of them buy anything. All of them ask to use our bathroom, which makes me livid. See, when one of the bridges to Woodford tore apart, it also tore our water main apart. Now we're limping by on reserves. We have enough water for the townspeople for two days and these f*cking vultures are coming in and acting like it's a goddamned carnival. My head hurts. My heart hurts. If it weren't for hearing about the volunteer fire fighters who pulled folks out of the water, and about civilians offering police the use of their boats for water rescue, and about civilians aiding police and rescue by assisting with evacuations, today might have completely destroyed my faith in humanity.
On a brighter note, the waters have receded. The governor flew over Southern Vermont today and I'm sure will send the aid that is needed. Windham County still needs your prayers and well wishes, though. Donations to the Red Cross would be appreciated.
Flash back to late last week. I'm off on Fridays and Saturdays, and after hearing the very serious weather warnings, spent those days making preparations for the worse. I stockpiled water, food, and batteries. I tied down patio furniture. I even had a friend come by and cut down some trees that were close enough to fall on the house. Now, the storm was forecast to strike our area beginning Saturday night and go all day Sunday, with torrential rains and high winds. Saturday morning I called my boss just to make absolutely sure that we weren't going to be open during the storm (really...who in their right minds go out during a hurricane to buy earrings?) And here is how that conversation went.
Me: So, we're not going to be open tomorrow, right?
Boss: Ummmm, yeah. Why wouldn't we be?
Me: Because of the storm.
Boss: It's just going to be some rain and wind.
Me: Ummm....have you SEEN the weather forecasts?
Boss: Yeah. It's not going to be that bad.
Me: Well, I'm not going to leave the house tomorrow.
Boss: (derisive snort) You're not coming in?
Me: No. It's supposed to be really bad and I don't really want to get stranded in town.
Boss: (another derisive grunt) It's not going to be that bad.
Me: Nobody is going to be out. The grocery stores are empty. Everyone is hunkering down for this.
Boss: (put upon sigh) I guess I'll see if Co-worker will be all right here by herself.
Me: NOBODY is going to be out shopping during this storm.
Boss: (another sigh) It's fine. You don't have to come in.
Me: I seriously wouldn't be open if I were you.
Boss: It's not going to be that bad.
Normally, I do whatever bosses tell me. In this economy, with unemployment as high as it is, I consider myself very fortunate to have a job. But the weather forecast was ridiculously scarey and I live in another town about 10 miles south. I really didn't relish the thought of ending up in a Red Cross center, away from my hubby and critters.
Fast forward to Sunday. I talked to co-worker early in the morning, and apparently Boss ended up closing the store for the day. Smart move. The storm moved in and it rained. And it rained. And it rained. The town where I live is at a higher elevation than where I work, so my house was fine. It was a much different story in town. Hubby and I tuned in to the police scanner and what unfolded throughout the day was terrifying. Fire fighters had to rescue people who had been swept into raging waters. Rivers overflowed their banks. Much of the downtown area was evacuated. Eventually, a state of emergency was declared and the town was shut down. Go to Youtube. Type in 'car in river in Bennington, Vermont after Hurricane Irene flooding'. Watch that thirty second video. The video is pretty scary, but what you don't see in the clip is that the concrete wall that you see that car slam into was horribly compromised. Sink holes 12 feet wide had fallen on the river banks and water was pushing those walls. If you could have heard the nervousness in the voices of rescue and dispatch on the scanner, you would know how serious it was. Did I mention that the store that I work in is about 4 blocks away, due west from the very spot where that video was shot? After hearing that the walls could give way, I decided to call my boss at home, to give her a heads up on what could be a potentially bad situation for her store. Her husband answered, and seeing as he is co-owner, I gave him the low-down on what was going on in town (Boss and her husband live just over the New York border, west of where the store is located)
Boss' husband tells me I need to stop listening to the scanner. Only, he says it in this very calm, very gentle and very condescending voice. After talking to him, I didn't really give a shit about what happened to the store anymore.
Fast forward to Sunday evening. The storm is winding down. State of emergency is still in place. Roads have washed out. Bridges are gone. There was even a house in a town to the east that was washed away by the flood. It's all over the news that the National Guard has been called in. And, as the news stories come in, we discover that Bennington County was hit severely. We also learn that Windham County, about 45 minutes east has water up to the second floors of houses. It's mayhem. This is the worst flooding this state has experienced ever. Ever. A meteorologist on the Weather Channel tears up talking about the devastation in Southern Vermont.
It's bad news.
Now, full circle to this morning. I get up and get ready to go to work. Friends call me and tell me not to go - that there's no possible way there will be any customers today. They tell me that the Sheriff has announced that if you don't absolutely have to be on the road, stay home. But I know that if I call the boss again, I'll be met with the same "attitude" as I did when I called on Saturday and Sunday. Besides, I figure if I make an attempt to go in and am turned away by police, they can't give me any grief. So off to work I go. No police stop me. As a matter of fact, there is an abundance of cars on the road in town, most of them with out of state plates. Several of these out-of-towners come in to the store and tell me that they've traveled from neighboring states with the sole purpose of ogling the flood damage in our town. One woman complains about not being able to get to Woodford to see the damage. 'Gee, lady, I'm so sorry both bridges that connect that town with ours (and also with the only hospital within 50 miles) have 15 foot wide washouts. How rude of me not to have that taken care of before you got here.'
Another woman complains about how difficult it is to get around town, what with all the detours and barriers. Another woman wants to know why some of the restaurants in town aren't opened. None of them buy anything. All of them ask to use our bathroom, which makes me livid. See, when one of the bridges to Woodford tore apart, it also tore our water main apart. Now we're limping by on reserves. We have enough water for the townspeople for two days and these f*cking vultures are coming in and acting like it's a goddamned carnival. My head hurts. My heart hurts. If it weren't for hearing about the volunteer fire fighters who pulled folks out of the water, and about civilians offering police the use of their boats for water rescue, and about civilians aiding police and rescue by assisting with evacuations, today might have completely destroyed my faith in humanity.
On a brighter note, the waters have receded. The governor flew over Southern Vermont today and I'm sure will send the aid that is needed. Windham County still needs your prayers and well wishes, though. Donations to the Red Cross would be appreciated.



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