I always look forward to my weekends, but last Saturday was a real washout. Literally.<\/p>\n
We had a huge thunderstorm here in Washington, the biggest in fifty years, and it just parked itself over town and drenched the northwest section of the city.<\/p>\n
I’ve had flooding in my basement apartment before, but never anything like this. I was actually nervously watching the deluge through my back door when I heard something strange in the living room and went out front.<\/p>\n
There, I found a small puddle of water pooling next to my couch. I walked to the front door to look at the source of the water, and was horrified to realize that the city storm drain system — all of it — was backing up into the stairwell leading down to my place, through the drain that is supposed<\/i> to let water out<\/i> of the stairwell.<\/p>\n
The water swiftly rose to the bottom of the window pane through the door, or about eight inches above floor level, and was flowing in around the edges of the door at about the rate of a garden hose turned on full.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, the same thing was happening through the back door into my guestroom\/office, though at a slower rate. By the time the water in the stairwell finally started draining out<\/i> instead of flowing in<\/i>, there was nearly three inches of water throughout my living room and kitchen, and about half an inch in the office. <\/p>\n
Through all of this, I basically just ran around helplessly, pulling power plugs and turning off appliances. There was nothing else to do.<\/p>\n
Cleaning up was a pain. I was able to get quite a bit of water out just by opening the front door and letting it flow back whence it had come. As for the rest — well, my landlords were out of town, so I couldn’t get at their wet-vac. I had to bail about 350 gallons out by scooping it or mopping it into a bucket and pouring it down the sink. It took four hours.<\/p>\n
The good news, if you can call it that, was that there was no permanent damage. I was able to pull all the rugs off the floor (except one) before the water got to them, and the furniture seems otherwise none the worse for wear. <\/p>\n
I still have to mop up some mud and leaves. The one dampened rug is still drying. But the ache in my back from heaving a ton of water is all but gone. And it could have been much worse. A lot of people in my part of town were flooded to a depth of a foot or more, and have basically had their homes rendered uninhabitable.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I always look forward to my weekends, but last Saturday was a real washout. Literally. We had a huge thunderstorm here in Washington, the biggest in fifty years, and it just parked itself over town and drenched the northwest section of the city. I’ve had flooding in my basement apartment before, but never anything like this. I was actually nervously watching the deluge through my back door when I heard something strange in the living room and went out front. There, I found a small puddle of water pooling next to my couch. I walked to the front door to look at the source of the water, and was horrified to realize that the city storm drain system — all of it — was backing up into the stairwell leading down to my place, through the drain that is supposed to let water out of the stairwell. The water swiftly rose to the bottom of the window pane through the door, or about eight inches above floor level, and was flowing in around the edges of the door at about the rate of a garden hose turned on full. Meanwhile, the same thing was happening through the back door into my guestroom\/office, though at a slower rate. By the time the water in the stairwell finally started draining out instead of flowing in, there was nearly three inches of water throughout my living room and kitchen, and about half an inch in the office. Through all of this, I basically just ran around helplessly, pulling power plugs and turning off appliances. There was nothing else to do. Cleaning up was a pain. I was able to get quite a bit of water out just by opening the front door and letting it flow back whence it had come. As for… <\/p>\n