Paradise Lost—and Found

My home near Ulysses, Potter County, had its beginnings in a farm house that burned down in the 1800s, leaving only the fireplace. A new owner built a cabin around the fireplace in the early 1900s. My father bought the cabin in 1960, and we loved spending time in the mountains. When my parents died in the ’70s I inherited it, and when I retired in 1994 I loved it so much I wanted to make it my home. I preserved the original cabin on the inside and kept the addition in all wood to match the original, adding large windows throughout to give panoramic views. I spent over thirty years converting the grounds into a wildlife habitat with pollinator gardens. Every day living there brought me joy.

My home is now twisted and heaved, the gardens decimated...but the fireplace, though broken, anchored the house and prevented it from being swept away. I will soon have a new home on stilts, and though I cannot replicate what was there, the fireplace will remain as a memorial to a lifetime of memories, and stand as a tribute to strength.

I have also come to know that the people of Potter County are as beautiful as the mountains we live in.

Submitted by Suzanne Boak

Riptide and Higher Ground

I don’t even know how to put into words how terrifying and devastating this whole thing was. My house is located at the end of the little dead end road that runs along Route 49, near the Westfield Elementary school. The water just came so fast. It started lifting our floors, and with the pressure of the water coming from behind the house and under it we thought our house was going to come up off the foundation and be swept away. So we made the decision to get to higher ground. My husband, Nate, had Ruger, our English mastiff who weighs about 230 pounds, by his leash. Our sons Noah and Liam, sixteen and fourteen, respectively, were walking holding on to each other, and I was carrying Millie, a mixed breed weighing about forty pounds, and was going to go back for Stella, a Lab and blue tick heeler mix who weighs about fifty pounds. She was on the front deck, but the flood opened our front door so she went back inside the house. Noah had a book bag with his Chromebook, PS5, and cell phone. I almost told him to leave it, but I’m so thankful I didn’t.

We started walking through the water. It was thigh deep when we got to the end of the house, and it quickly reached chest level, sweeping us out into the front field. Then it was well over our heads and we could not touch ground anywhere. The current was taking us toward Route 49 where there would be nothing to hold onto. The current was coming from both Cowanesque Creek and North Fork Creek. We were all struggling to keep our heads up. I still had Millie, trying to keep her up out of the water, but Nate had to let go of Ruger to try to help our boys. My oldest son, Alex, twenty-one, was trying to get to our house, but the roads were flooded and he was trapped on Route 49 watching all this. He saw Ruger get swept away, so he took off running to get him. He thankfully did not see us all go under after that, because I know if he had he would have jumped in and tried to help us, and it was an even deeper and stronger current in that end. Alex ended up getting swept in. His friend, Nick, saw him and he jumped in to try to help. The water carried them both away, but they were able to grab onto the wooden decorative bridge at Westfield Elementary. They held on until the water receded enough to get themselves out.

Nate, the boys, and I were still struggling to keep our heads above water. The boys were both hanging on to Noah’s book bag, which helped them float a little bit. Growing up in Jersey and being in the ocean, it was always drilled into my head what to do if you get caught in riptide or current. You never fight, because you will exhaust yourself and drown. That was what I saw happening. They kept dunking under and panicking. So I was yelling to the boys and Nate to calm down, relax, and float. Just keep your head up. It was so crazy—after I said that everyone floated together and we did a U-turn in the water. The current brought us to higher ground so we could touch a little and it pushed us behind my neighbor’s house where we could grab trees. I was still holding my dog, so my hands were full. I was able to get behind a tree that was wider than me, so the force of the current eased up some. I was trying to lean back on the tree, but I kept sliding, so I dug holes with my feet and anchored myself down.

Nate, meanwhile, kind of pushed the boys in the direction of a group of three trees. They were able to grab them and wrap their arms around the trunks. Nate drifted a little further from us and was backed up to a shed. We stayed like that for about an hour, then the shed started moving. Thankfully it wedged up against a tree, so Nate was able to grab that.

The water was still chest high. I had my Apple Watch on—I kept trying to make a call but it wasn’t working. I remembered I had my cell in my pocket. I figured it wouldn’t work, either, since we’d been submerged so long, but I was desperate. So I maneuvered the dog enough that I could reach it, and the damn thing worked. I was so relieved. I had already called 911 before we left the house so I called Alex. At that time I didn’t know what he’d been through. Our phones were not working properly, but he heard enough of what I said and called 911 for us. Faith, Alex’s girlfriend, called 911, a guy who was up on Route 49 and watched it all also called, and my son, Ephraim, eighteen, who was at a friend’s house about two hours away, also called. He had called me while we were hanging on the trees, and I could see the call was connected but I couldn’t hear him. I didn’t know if he could hear me, so I just said “Help, we are in the water hanging on trees.” He only heard me yelling help, so he called 911.

The water was starting to recede to waist height. I wanted to get over to my boys, so I started making my way to them. The current started to pull me away, but they both reached out and were able to pull me to them. We waited about another hour until the water was thigh high, then Nate made his way to us and helped us get to the field. Once we got to higher ground, it wasn’t even twenty minutes and the water was almost gone. Just like that.

Help did finally come, but they were so busy with calls they couldn’t get to everyone. We understood that and were just so grateful to make it out alive. Then I got a call from Alex telling me Ruger was alive! He got tangled up on someone’s porch downtown, and he was okay! (Millie and Stella made it, too.)

The house is still standing, but we lost almost everything. We are living in the house, we can repair it, but it’s going to take a while. We are very grateful. It could have been worse. Our foundation was fine and everything is fixable.

We always get asked why we left the house. It was just our first instinct to get to higher ground. When our floors started lifting and the current was hitting the back of the house, we thought it was going to come off the foundation and we didn’t want to be in it when that happened. When we first stepped off the front deck the water was just to my knees. Low enough I thought I would have time to go back and get Stella. But when you hear “flash flood” it really means in a flash, because it was to my chest before I even made it twenty feet. It was terrifying and I pray our community never goes through that again.

God was definitely with us, and I can’t even begin to tell you how wonderful our community has been. We all lost so much but everyone has pulled together and that makes this horrific situation a little easier to bear. I couldn’t even list all the people who have come by, helped clean up, brought supplies and food, and picked up bags of nasty, wet, muddy laundry. We are so incredibly thankful—I can’t even express how much this has meant to us. Just thank you!

Submitted by Becky A. Monroe

An Ever-Present Help

I will never forget that dark day in August. The rain fell at breakneck speed, and before we knew it, the flood had captured the communities west of us. Glued to the news, I grew more concerned with each update.

I prayed. I emailed. I made phone calls. Then, I jumped into my car and drove west from just outside of Lawrenceville to check on our church members. Please let them be okay, Lord.

At Osceola, a fire department member stopped all traffic. I rolled down my window and talked to the volunteer. My heart sank when he said Route 49 was impassable. No one was getting through. All other roads were underwater, unsafe, or open to emergency crews only.

Hoping the road would open soon, I sat in Lee’s Country Kitchen restaurant, next to the Big M in Osceola, and waited…and waited. After a while, I realized, with frustration, that I couldn’t be there with the people I loved on that awful day. I had to wait and go back in the morning.

But Someone was there. My Lord, Jesus, was there. The Bible says He is everywhere at all times (Jer. 23:23-24), including troubling ones. Psalm 46:1-2 says: “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea….”(NIV)

When the roads opened, I saw first-hand God’s presence, working in his mysterious ways. As I checked on members, I didn’t know most street names, being a new pastor—less than two weeks. Yet God knew, and street by street, house by house, and person by person, things came together. One member who had fallen on a slippery, flooded floor smiled as we prayed at her hospital bed. Another man whose faith had not drowned with a waterlogged furnace said, “It’s all just ‘stuff,’” and I smiled inside as we prayed. Another dear saint, who had lost everything in this world, still trusted God because Jesus himself was her serenity. I felt honored to pray for her.

And God kept working. Our church, Westfield Methodist, collaborated with our Baptist brothers and sisters next door to feed our community. Already close, God would knit our hearts together even more as we teamed up again. We have been blessed to have what is known locally as the Youth Center—it’s right beside the church—which has a kitchen and space to serve hot meals to many. In that special setting, both churches, community members, with help from other churches and groups, labored together, and the center sprang to life. The delicious, homemade food filled the damp air with warm aroma, empty stomachs with nourishment, and our hearts with hope. We helped each other there for two or three weeks.

Months later in a sermon, I teared up as I remembered God’s love during the flood. I will never forget that dark day in August. I will also never forget the radiant love of Jesus, who was there that day…and still is, comforting all, especially the ones in the deepest loss and heartbreak. Jesus said it best to His children: “‘…I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.’ Amen” (Mt. 28:20b).

Submitted by Pastor Russ Fisk