My Path Through Coyote Creek's 100 Year Flood

   February 22nd 2017 is the day I learned that gophers and moles will swim when their lives depend upon it. I walked down the street with family friends and neighbors to find the scrambled chaos of a flood crisis at the William Street Bridge on Wednesday morning. Our walk happened before, but only hours before, the entire neighborhood flooded and people had to drive through streets that were sudden temporary creeks, take household tools like push brooms and shovels to unclog storm drains in an attempt to save their houses and yards, push cars to higher ground. Some people were barefoot and others shouted out of SUVs for their loved ones to get in the ^#!~* car already--"we're outta here!" It was a scene of panic and confusion. Some of us just stood there staring at the swirling water on 21st street at the corner store. We all had this numb or aghast expression on our faces even the German shepherd standing against a garage on San Antonio and South 22nd street. We used to call it "Goldstone's" and then "Guru's" but it has since changed hands a few times. It's now called 'San Antonio Market.' A man was locking up the door in the small lift (like a heel) between the store entrance and the sidewalk. The sidewalk was all moving water. I saw a woman plunge with a yelp thigh deep into a storm drain as she attempted to cross San Antonio Street. Photos following this blogpost I took on Thursday morning, post flood, wearing rubber boots and plastic pants. I had to walk up the middle double stripe of San Antonio several blocks to avoid the murky and swirling flowing sidewalks and streets on Wednesday night. I was wearing a black skirt and black shoes (since thrown away) and was worried about all the distracted drivers whose wheels were sending up brown waves of water hitting me or just sliding over since I had heard cars are able to float in 6" of water. I needed to get home and see our street and house. I called my dad and urged him to take a look outside because I was fording a stream to come home and wet to somewhere above my ankles from steering to the shallower areas. "Check it out!" I only remember keeping my goal in mind (getting home) and stopping to thank my Mexican neighbors actively battling the rising waters. Evidently, they were the ones losing ground and the creek meandered into their backyards and submerged the cars on the street. We were being swallowed and watching it happen. I sat with my parents and watched it all over again several times on the news. It was late on Wednesday on the 10:00 p.m. news before we were seeing media images and receiving assurances that the floodwaters had peaked and were receding. Many of us had been watching trees and other landmarks such as notches on the bridges to guess at the water level and the "creep." I've decided to do the shots on their own and the narrative on its own.