One Week Later

Ok. So now I’m officially tired of talking about the flood. It has nothing to do with any of you or with my own empathy towards those that felt the burden of the impact. I am merely tired of my company’s continual response towards the event (status reports, volunteer drives, fundraising drives, changes around the campus meant to assist with recovery, etc.) and the continual inquiries from people who ask if everything is ok. Some of it is genuine and some is just the obligatory lead-in to the topic at hand: business.
Some have even used it at an excuse…my money didn’t get there on time because of the flood…and to that I have no tolerance for. You’re forced to politely explain that the location where they’ve sent it to had no bearing on the fact that they waited too long to send their money and, yes, there is nothing in our company that is underwater….including their fucking payment.
I understand the continual inquiries…hell I do it too…but to hear it over and over again is mind numbing. And to hear my canned response is perhaps the main reason for my, pun intended, saturation.
There is one thing about it though, and it may sound somewhat clichéd, it’s the way that people react in these times of trial. Cedar Rapids is the second largest city in the state of Iowa and when people move here they tend to forget their traditional small-town upbringing. Oh you didn’t think the 200,000 people in this area were actually born here, did you? Maybe some, but the majority are from other parts of the state, tired of not having anything to do yet not willing to move out of state, so they end up here. We’ve got Best Buys, Ruby Tuesdays, and every other little thing that declares “big city.”
So how ironic was it that the biggest impact in this city…the downtown section…the area with the most uniqueness…the area with the most character…ends up being the place that gets soaked. It’s like God is telling us to clear-cut this city’s history and put up yet another landmark that happens to share its features with every other Goddamn city in the country.

“Yes that sounds good
Tear that part of downtown down
That sounds real nice!”
-The Magnolias
1987

Now I don’t think that the downtown area is going to undergo some kind of complete overhaul as a result of all this. For those of you who are not familiar with my city, everyone’s upped and moved to the suburbs (including yours truly) leaving only the specialty stores, the college, and the poor behind.
Then again, this is the perfect time for a clean slate: nearly half of this city’s poor housing is in the area most affected by the flood. Many of their residences, as shitty as they may have been, are inhospitable thanks to the water and the trained eye of the aftermath inspectors. So if the city is looking for a way to finally shore up that downtown the way they would like to, now is their chance. We will get to see how heartless they can be during the rebuilding process, as most of those former inhabitants are going to be displaced and forced to move to another part of town while they bulldoze the riverfront into a place where the beautiful people mingle.
There are tons of barrack resembling apartment buildings throughout town that are just perfect for these blue collar folk. To me, these drab and questionably built units seem just as dismal as the homes they were flooded out of. While they may provide the enticing amenities like dishwashers, air conditioning, and the smell of new drywall, they lack the camaraderie that their current neighborhoods provide them. Driving by these neighborhoods every day, you see their front doors wide open, as they dry out their homes, pausing from the task of taking inventory of their salvageable possessions to converse with their next door neighbor who’s doing the exact same thing.
The stronger neighborhoods will stay together.
The ones who feel like our government has let them down will not.
Of course, this is all taking into consideration that the major investors would even want to drop money into an area that has now demonstrated to be very vulnerable. Sure, we have never seen an event like this before, but would you be willing to risk a few million on the notion that it will not happen again for another 500 years?
As shitty as the downtown area is/was, and as much as I would love for a “real rain to come and wash the trash off the sidewalks,” my heart aches for those working at a lame job for next to nothing, trying to make ends meet in a home that is now destroyed. It’s events like this that can push people from “just getting by” to “nothing left to lose.” It’s events like this in which it’s time for the government to step in to provide some assistance, leadership and hope; so that those that are the most vulnerable in this situation don’t feel that their piece of the dream didn’t float downstream.
It’s a week later, and they are just now being allowed to return to their homes to assess the damage. That is, if the sign out front allows them to go in. If your home has a green sign posted, that means an inspector has assessed the damage and determined that it is safe to return to. Not necessarily safe to live in…that comes much later…but safe enough to maneuver inside and determine what is salvageable and what must be thrown out.
If the home has a red sign, the structural damage is significant enough to be dangerous. The people that reside in these homes are not allowed to enter until the home is repaired.
Which, of course, many cannot afford to do.
Which is why many of them were living in these areas to begin with: because it was the only place they could afford.
So we’re at a crossroads now, one that is much bigger than the revitalization of the downtown. Cedar Rapids is at the verge of having one of the largest contingency of displaced residents in our state’s history and they should have top priority when financial relief starts to arrive. Because even though the floods may have swept through one of our city’s last examples of character, our leaders need to make sure it hasn’t swept away their character either.