It’s Wednesday morning, going on a week since the Iowa floods forced evacuation of our Iowa City neighborhood, and I’m about to drive an hour west to Grinnell to work on a China-related feature article for the Grinnell College alumni magazine. The assignment arrived in an e-mail offer the other day–a describe-the-universe kind of story drawing on Grinellian sources to answer questions like: “Is there a coherent view of China that lies behind the front page stories? Where is China heading, and what does it mean for the world?” Seemed like a great distraction, preferable to twiddling my thumbs while I wait for the waters to subside.

Tuesday was a flood-centered day: In the morning, I spent half an hour on the phone with a lovely FEMA gentleman in DC, who took down information for my disaster assistance registration — and expressed amazement that in the space of two days i was the second caller with the same birthday as him ! (July 29) Then I drove a circuitous route to the high ground above my neighborhood, parked the car and walked down as close as I could get to my block without starting to wade.

For awhile I stood right down the street from my house, separated only by a stretch of brownish waters. A rescue boat with about six uniformed people and a TV camera came halfway up my block and I shouted to them: “Hey, can you take me to my house?” A guy responded: “You’re supposed to evacuate!” I replied: “I already did!” He said: “You’re not supposed to be here!” I thought they’d come further and check me out — who was I? was I a looter? did I have a problem? But no–they turned around and putt-putted the other way!

A young fellow came down from the hill to survey the waterscape — turned out to be an engineering student who was just coming to take a look. We had a nice chat, and then he left. I continued to gaze wisfully at my house, not quite having the gumption to begin wading.

Then another young guy with cameras and long lenses, followed by a gal with the same, emerged from behind some bushes. They were wading, and gave me fortitude. “Hey,” I said, “wanna visit my house?” Of course they did — they were photographers for Iowa papers, one a regular with the Cedar Rapids Gazette and the other borrowed from the Cincinnatti Enquirer to snap for the Des Moines Register, and I’d be giving them exclusive access to the inside of a flooded homestead!

So we felt for the sidewalk, hitting about butt-deep water at the deepest, and got to my front door, which I unlocked, and I gave them and myself a tour. The water had sunk from what was probably its highest of about three feet on my ground floor to about 18 inches. A few stray shoes floated by. The fridge door had swung open and a pickle jar, a ketchup bottle and a few other things were bobbing around. Underfoot we could feel the linoleum coming up, and in the living room the carpet already was billowing — at least it will not be difficult to pull up.

How did I feel? That’s what reporters for the papers asked me afterwards. Not sad, not upset, just weirded out. It’s strange to be on the other side of a news story–we’re used to seeing those affected by calamity, whether man-made or natural disaster or combinations, which no doubt this flooding is, from a distance. Now my story is the one being mediated. I feel somehow removed from myself even as I know I’m in the middle of it.

We are lucky to have that second story where we moved a lot of things. STUFF. The only possessions I’m truly sorry to see damaged are our old upright piano and a new wood floor laid in a big back room two summers ago. The house itself, of course, will be the biggest challenge — ripping up floor coverings, cutting out soggy drywall and insulation, trying to get everything drained and dried and disinfected before reconstruction can begin will take who knows how long?

Meanwhile — we’re trying to reach as many of the scattered residents of our neighborhood as possible to convene at a meeting this Saturday, June 21, 3-6 PM in the Iowa City Public Library meeting room A, to form a neighborhood association that will have a collective legal voice in recovery work and the aftermath. Wish us luck.