2010 Middle Tennessee Flood

Many of you were affected by the flood earlier this month and I wanted to share with you some of my Dad's memories of that weekend. He stayed at our house that weekend because the flood waters blocked about 5 routes to his house. We were glad to have him there, especially when we were evacuated by the National Guard.

Three Days in May
My Thoughts on the Great Flood of 2010
by Jere Jeter

It was a rare Saturday, May 1, 2010. Rare in the sense that I had to work at a forest landowner meeting in Nashville and rare in the sense that the rain that began to fall that day would continue until creeks and rivers overflowed their banks, city streets, roads and interstate highways were flooded, houses, businesses, vehicles, barns and other possessions were washed away or damaged and lives lost. This rare rain event, called by some a 500 year flood and by others a millennia flood, will be remembered by some as the great disaster of a lifetime and by others as perhaps their greatest opportunity to be and to witness the hands and feet of Jesus.

I left work at 1:30 heading for my home in Leipers Fork, Tennessee. After stopping to fill up with gasoline, I spent the next 3 to 3.5 hours trying to manage my way through extraordinarily heavy Saturday traffic in order to find a route home that was not blocked by rising water or mudslide. During this time of searching for a road without water, I witnessed many sights that were quite sobering. Water rising in people’s houses, a SUV and a pick-up truck floating down a swollen creek like fishing bobbers, a mudslide that blocked passage in both directions, three horses stranded in a field with water steadily rising at shoulder level, and many people frantic about getting to loved ones or stuff. Our house is on high ground so I felt comfortable that Maureen would be okay at home until I would be able to get through. After unsuccessfully attempting every road that leads home, I headed for our son Paul’s house in Franklin which is near the Harpeth River but far above the 100-year flood plain..

Once at Paul and Autumn’s I had time to think about the ramifications of the rising water. Part of their development was built closer to the Harpeth River than Paul and Autumn’s house and those houses nearer the river were beginning to experience flooding by Saturday afternoon. It was then that I first saw residents walking the familiar and not-so-familiar streets near their homes to check on neighbor and stranger alike. Some were lending a hand helping to get stuff to higher shelves or second floors, others were checking on the property of neighbors who were out of town. There was a sense of urgency but not panic. In fact, some seemed to be enjoying the novelty of the high water. On Saturday evening we saw the water rise unbelievably fast, maybe 3-4 feet in depth in a matter of thirty minutes. Then it receded causing me to believe the worst might be over, but a quick look at the regional weather radar brought me back to reality. There was plenty more rain headed our way from down south. It was also Saturday that we learned that nephew John Campbell, his wife Cassie and new son Cayden who live in nearby Bellvue had received extensive damage to their brand new home due to 2-3 feet of water inside. Still unable to get home, I spent the night with Paul and Autumn and Cooper in their beautiful home.

Sunday brought no relief from the falling rain that seemed to come in waves, falling at the rate of 3-4 inches per hour at times. Our church services were cancelled simply because the building was an island and no one could get there by vehicle. Paul and I drove around the neighborhood, at least as far as we could , to check on the damage. One vivid memory of Saturday and Sunday was the seemingly endless sound of emergency vehicles trying to get to someone or some place. The flooding was widespread causing damage among the low income and wealthy alike; mobile homes were destroyed as well as million dollar houses. We watched the water level in the yard across the street and on the street rise to uncomfortable levels. Paul moved his truck to higher ground, we moved furniture and rugs from the first to the second floor and we moved everything off the garage floor, including a refrigerator to the porch. We were expecting water to at least get into the garage. In the meantime, Maureen had lost television reception and eventually power at our house. Obviously, there was non-stop news coverage of the rising waters but Maureen, without television, was not able to keep up with the scope of the flood. We were thankful for cell phones; we never lost contact with each other..

About 8:00 pm a young very professional and sensitive Sheriff’s Deputy knocked on the door and told Autumn that the decision had been made by emergency management to evacuate the neighborhood. Paul and Autumn had a choice (not really) to stay or to be picked up by a military truck. Here were the terms: “we are going to turn off the power to the development (some houses actually burned during the flooding due to gasoline cans turning over in the rising water at the same time pilot lights were still ignited) and if you stay behind, the national guard would not be able to get back for you”. After a brief discussion, we began to prepare for the exodus. First, all things necessary for Cooper to be comfortable then the essentials for a couple days away. Autumn and Paul were calm and organized during this “getting ready to leave time” . It was then that I knew they both understood that what they would be leaving was just stuff, a very nice house with good furniture and other belongings but nonetheless stuff. We all packed a few necessities, had a quick but powerful word of prayer and then four or five trucks arrived.

Like the deputy, the national guardsmen/women we came in contact with were very professional and sensitive to what the residents were experiencing. About 27-28 persons, representing 8 or so families, and the two Jeter dogs (Wyatt and Wriley) boarded the truck. The deputy had assured us the dogs would be welcome. Among this group of refugees were folks ranging in age from baby Cooper to a great grandmother from New Hampshire who appeared to be near 90 who was in town for her great-grandson’s first Communion. There seemed to be a sense of resignation to the fact that the loss of stuff was in store for most everyone on the truck. A quick poll revealed that no one on the truck had flood insurance. Paul and Autumn took the ordeal in stride.. It was clear that what was most important to them was on the truck and not on the foundation of their house. The trucks had to leave in convoy and as we waited for the others to be loaded, the people on our truck began to mention families who wanted to be evacuated but had not made it to the truck. Four or five families in all. It was then that a neighbor who had decided to stay in his home came by in a boat and gave assurance that he would check on those believed to be stranded. As I looked out the back of the truck as it pulled away through three feet of water I was reminded of a Mike Card song with the line, ....”.the freedom we find in the things we leave behind”. Maybe out of context, but none of the homeowners on that truck knew for sure what they would find when they were allowed back to their houses. It was the following Sunday at church during a time of testimonies that Scott Smith, son of our pastor by the same name, said that as he realized his car was gone and that there was several feet of water in his house, he felt completely free. He was no longer tethered to the stuff in his life because it was basically gone. Another member was quoted as saying, I paraphrase, “I have shed many tears over this flood this week but they have all been for the people helping me and none for the stuff I lost”.

There has been so much outpouring of love and help for and from the neighbor next door, a fellow church member and strangers alike. What a story of redemption this flood has been. I think, without a doubt, lives have been changed forever because of the high water. We grieve with those families who have lost a loved one and we feel for the ones who have suffered monetary loss but we rejoice with them who have loved and been loved well through this. At last count Nashville alone had suffered damages exceeding $2.0 billion. Sometimes God keeps us from the storms of life and sometimes He loves us through the storms. Will the Great Flood of 2010 be known most as the greatest natural disaster in the history of Middle Tennessee or the event that aroused the hearts of many, many people who now understand the difference between stuff and the important. I guess it depends on one’s perspective.