It’s a story that will be told for generations.

Or perhaps it’s a story that people will simply want to bury and never exhume.

Entire communities in northwest Iowa woke up the weekend of June 22-23, 2024, to either water in their homes, or figuring out that it was coming quickly. By the time they knew it, river waters were roaring toward them faster than they had time to gather up their belongings and head to higher ground. Towns were literally being swallowed up by the rivers, and all they could do, really, was leave.

They didn’t know it at the time, but all-time historic flooding had come to town.

When the silt- and sewage-laden waters of the Little Sioux River receded in Spencer, I visited a friend whose basement was full, and there had been 15 inches on the main floor.

My husband and I met her at her garage, and she and I both fell apart. Her loss was profound. Later on, trying to lighten the mood herself as other help arrived, she wiped her tears and quipped, “Welcome to our home.”

I teased her, saying not to cry because it was only creating more water.

It was good to see her laugh.

The days that followed brought the tangible pieces of grieving souls to the curb. Piles upon piles of drywall, furniture, appliances, doors, Christmas trees and holiday decorations, children’s toys/stuffed animals, baby cribs/equipment, dishes, photo albums, treadmills, mirrors … there was no age or stage of people left untouched by this rain-soaked page of 2024 history.

Homes with compromised foundations were marked with a red “X,” like a scarlet letter.

Orange D.O.T. trucks hauled load after load of peoples’ lives and hearts away; restoration service and Christian relief vehicles showed up — along with people who traveled from other communities to Spencer with true grit and compassionate determination to help their neighbors in their gut-wrenching time of need — even if they didn’t know them.

And vice versa.

Our sons helped with a relief project put on by Okoboji Community Schools. A throng of people showed up to offer relief supplies once the word was out. While loading a bus of those supplies headed for Spencer, one of our sons worked beside a man from Utah who was in the area visiting his son. He said to our son, “This is unbelievable to see. Where I’m from, people would only be lined up to take.”

That is why we live where we live.

There was (and is) plenty of heartbreak to go around. Our daughter visited her friend from Spencer as soon as she could get there and told us, “I hugged her in her kitchen while she cried.”

People’s hearts and lives were not just broken, they were shattered … sucker-punched.

An entire quadrant of the state was living at half-mast. They were knocked down; but in the spirit of Midwestern tenacity, slowly returned to their feet and began the work of their lives.

The Clay County Fairgrounds was transformed into a temporary refugee camp, and offered a headquarters for relief services and a place to gather the remains of people’s lives.

A woman looking for the FEMA office one day said to me through her tears, “I had four feet of water in my basement, but I’m still grateful because I have my home and electricity. A lot of people don’t.” Those words rang in my head … she was grateful.

Storms rage all around us, and each storm looks different. But the prophet Isaiah told us,

“When you pass through raging waters in the sea, you shall not drown,” and “be not afraid.”

The people of Spencer and other hard-hit communities have proven this passage to be true.

A wise woman once told me, “You never know what tomorrow will bring.”

But one thing we do know in northwest Iowa is that tomorrow can bring hope.

People’s souls were just as injured as the unforgiving flood waters raged. But in the eerie stillness afterward, we are taking care of each other. We are holding each other up … and we can do it because St. Paul tells us, “When we are weak, then we are strong.”

The resilient people of northwest Iowa are living in that truth. Or trying to.

Karen Schwaller writes from her grain and livestock farm near Milford. She can be reached at kschwaller@evertek.net.