Thursday, 9.10.04: Hey, this ain't Florida!
Here we were, feeling so smug about not being in Florida. But Big Frances has the last laugh.
After a couple days of soaking rain, the Irondequoit Creek finally swelled over its banks and flooded the lower half of our complex.
I headed out at 10 o'clock for exercise class and was surprised to find the lower parking lot impassible. Oh, dear.
I drove back up to our townhouse -- thankfully high and dry -- changed into water shoes and took a hike to explore the wretched mess.
You don't want to play around too much in flood water, but the walk out to Penfield Road seemed pretty straightforward -- all pavement, no dangling power lines, no wriggling snakes, and emergency vehicles sitting about a hundred yards away. I crept along, feeling ahead for speed bumps and curbs. I felt so gutsy as the water swirled around my knees.
While I was having my little adventure, the people who live in the townhouses along the flooded roadway all stood in their front doors. They stared at the water, stricken. Maybe if they concentrated hard enough it would not sweep across their thresholds. I can't imagine that their basements weren't disastrously flooded. But they were all just standing there, staring.
By 4 P.M. the rain was over and the swamp began draining by inches.