Against my sweet mother’s wishes, I went to work today. I work downtown, but I’m several blocks up a hill from the banks of the Cumberland. I couldn’t stand the thought of sitting at home another day.
I was pretty worthless, as I spent most of the day on Twitter, to be honest. While the national media shamefully dropped the ball on what is happening here in Nashville until just a few hours ago, Twitter has been a lifeline for news and support. If you’re on Twitter and want to follow along—and I hope you will—the hashtag is #nashvilleflood.
As the news has rolled in, I’ve basically just shaken my head at how my Nashville is underwater. That’s…a weird thing to say. You know how, when some big disaster hits some place that you’ve been, and it freaks you out because you realize “oh, that’s the hotel we stayed in,” or “I can’t believe that building is gone”? Well, I’ve done that from my own remote locations, but today, I’m living it in my home city. Places I’ve frequented since I’ve lived here, or at least driven by on a regular basis, are sitting in feet of water. Water that’s destroying things.
Saturday, when the rains started, I was at Opry Mills for lunch and early afternoon. Today, the whole Opryland area, including the Hotel, are facing months of recovery. I went to the magnificent Schermerhorn Saturday night because Nate had gotten cheap tickets to see the Nashville Symphony do some Chopin and the amazing Mahler 5. It was an infinitely bloggable night of transcendent music—I just, obviously, got distracted because of what has happened since. The Schermerhorn has now sustained substantial damages, as has the Country Music Hall of Fame, Bridgestone Arena, and LP Field.
This is hitting us on every possible level, from the lives and homes that have been lost to the very heart of what makes Nashville, Nashville—our music, our history, even our sports teams.
You can view my Nashville flood pictures here on my Flickr.