I’d like to tell a story of gratitude, one you may not have heard.

On Friday, March 27, an order came from North Dakota Governor John Hoeven that a certain “vulnerable population” should be evacuated from flood-threatened Fargo. I, being unashamedly included, as well as perhaps 100 people, were bussed to the Red River Valley Fairgrounds, where we were then sent to various cities outside Fargo. I was sent to Mayville State University, where cots were ready for us in the gymnasium. The Red Cross and the National Guard did their finest at accommodating us, and though we may have been uncomfortable in a strange place, we were very warmly received.

On Sunday it became possible to safely move closer to Fargo, and I was bussed to West Fargo. As the Red River was ever so slowly inching down from its historic crest, a blizzard swept the region, leaving a foot of snow and a gnawing uncertainty about the river’s behavior. At Cheney Middle school, I rejoined many people I knew and waited out the storm. Then came the difficult wait for the all-clear signal from the city so we could finally go home.

I am nervous by nature and thought I would not do well with all my fellow evacuees. But with the gracious help of the Red Cross, the National Guard, the police, and Dr. Andrew McLean (who coordinated Human Services), we somehow pulled together as a community and stayed safe from the disaster around us. I for one am grateful to these people, both officials and fellow shelter-dwellers, for keeping me calm, informed, and well-fed. Red Cross people, nurses, and other volunteers too numerous to mention helped all of us in every way possible.

Today, April 1, I am home, and by Thursday everyone will be home. In my final photograph I include a clock, one that could have been a prison but instead became, at least for me, a safe-haven.

Thank you.

So as not to be sticky sweet, I've randomly inserted a photo of a bison and his/her calf from Cheney Shelter, not to be confused with the people amongst whom it is included.