Not Just One House

Meg and I saw Linda and her husband working in their yard from the street, and hesitantly stepped onto the flattened chain link fence to ask if they’d be interested in talking to us about how the storm affected them. “Sure,” they said. “But here, come in through the gate.” The gate to their yard was the only part of the fence left standing; they’d secured it against a garbage bin.

She invited us inside, where a orange flames crackled in the fireplace, and her two dogs happily and persistently licked at our jeans. “All of my Christmas decorations,” she said. “I thought they were in the attic, but they were in the storage unit outside. I have seven kids and I got each of them an ornament when they were born. Just, swept away.”

Linda’s story: here.

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