It was a Sunday afternoon. I just woke up and it was still raining. The phone rang. My dad answered it only to find out the Dam had damage and the alarm might go off. He told me to get ready just in case. As I threw clothes in my bag, sure enough the alarm went off. We rushed to the car we were out of the house in 1 minute. we knew where we had to go, Cotton Hill road. WE took a shortcut knowing it would be the less crowded way to go. There was a Bridge over a creek on the way it was flooded with logs weighing at least 110 pounds each on it. We knew that was the only way out at that point, so my brother ran out in the pouring rain and threw the logs out of the way. After he got in we drove up the hill, the alarm still going off. when we got to Cotton Hill road there was a sign that said road blocked, we said screw it and went past it we went up as far as we could and we saw trees on the road on power lines. so we went down to the safest place which happened to be a dump. we waited and waited listening to wgy on the radio and heard the Blenheim bridge was taken away by the water. Then we saw a wood chipper go up. At this point the alarms had stopped. I made everyone pray, and pray, and pray. We went up a really high hill and looked down on the village, it looked like an ocean. My dad and brother, Matt went home to get stuff and turn on the pumps for the basement, while me and my other brother, Mike stayed in the car across the road from where we were before. When they got back they put the stuff they brought in the car and told us about how it was back in town, how our house was somewhat okay, and how they helped people. After that we went to eat dinner at a diner that had stayed open through all of this. When we were done it wasn't raining anymore. We spent the night in our car. We went home the next day and our town looked terrible especially Main street. But I'll stop there.
Here are some pictures of Irene's fury.
