Along the main street, volunteers handed out hot meals, bottled water, and supplies. Churches had been converted into shelters. Some residents stole themselves to return to their homes, not knowing where to start.
“It smells like death,” said Mrs Burns, 43, describing the stench that overcame her as soon as she stepped into her house. “It’s a struggle.”
Richard Wheeler, a retired firefighter, said he ran errands on Saturday morning. He returned and found his house in the middle of the road. He recalled previous floods, including one where water ran under his house.
“This is worse than anyone else,” he said. “This is the worst.”
As he stood on the steps of the Waverly Church of Christ, a man passed him a rolled-up $20 bill, and a woman in a pink dress, holding her Bible, invited him to stay at her house. He said he was staying with his daughter, who lives in a town about 10 miles away.
“When it rains, it pours,” the woman told him, “and it rains on you.”
After she ran away, he choked. He lived on his own. He was already assured of what he thought would be the case: his neighbors would take care of him. “This is a very God-loving province,” he said.
Mr. Larkin, 62, sat on the floor, his back leaning against the brick wall of the church hall, a Capris Sun and a cigarette in his hand. He was exhausted. He was also in physical pain from being thrown around in the choppy water.
Still, he said he was grateful and reiterated over and over how grateful he was to the rescuers who picked him, his wife and his 11-year-old cat. That gratitude replaced all sadness at this point that he was stranded with only the clothes he was wearing. For now, Mr. Larkin and his wife were staying at the shelter, hoping to get into a motel.
