Despite appearances, Maurer house escapes damage

Rudy Maurer probably never imagined he would be launching his pontoon in the wee hours of the morning–or in the middle of the street. But that’s exactly what happened not long after sunrise on Saturday, Sept. 19.

 

Rudy and his wife Becky, in their mid-sixties, have lived in the blue house adjoining the New Richland Care Center, 220 First Street Northeast, for the past three years. They have been enjoying the increased comforts of some remodeling work they completed over the summer and always enjoy having the grandkids over for some fun. Some of their adult children live nearby, including right in New Richland.

 

Overnight from Sept. 18 to 19, Rudy received a call from his daughter about midnight asking for help because water was coming into her basement. He went over to help; when he returned about 3:30 a.m., he saw there was water coming into his basement, too.

 

He and Becky grabbed a shop vac, and afterwards an extra pump. Family members came over to help and brought or borrowed equipment.

 

Volunteers began delivering sandbags, both to the Care Center and to the perimeter of the Maurers’ house, but by the time a perimeter was created, water was already inside the sandbag wall. More pumps were found, more family members and friends came to help. A trench caught the water and a pump sent it outside the wall. 

 

Everything was under control at the Maurer household, but next door at the Care Center, staff and volunteers were working hard to get residents evacuated as access to the building, and the building itself, began to fill with water.

 

With everything under control at home, Rudy stepped over to help.

 

He helped push some of the last residents–those who were bedridden–out to waiting transportation. Though the hospital-type beds were cranked up as high as they would go, Rudy remembers that water was up to the level of the mattress in the bed he was pushing. He, of course, was up to his hips.

 

With the last residents evacuated, staff expressed concern that certain pieces of medical equipment and some supplies would be needed as residents were cared for at the middle school gym.

 

That’s when Rudy thought of his pontoon. He was able to back it on its trailer to the end of his driveway and out into the street, where he scissored it down to the water. Volunteers–famously, members of the high school football team–pushed the pontoon over to the Care Center building. Care Center staff loaded on the needed equipment, and the volunteers pushed the boat back to its trailer. Rudy drove it to the school, it was unloaded, and returned for another load.

 

Though stories have been shared that residents rode on the pontoon, Rudy clarifies that, when the water had risen so high inside the Care Center that no more equipment could be brought out, some of the facility’s staff members climbed onto the pontoon for the last of the three trips the boat made. But all the residents were evacuated before the pontoon was even launched.

 

Back at the Maurer house, six pumps were in operation, keeping water from reaching the exterior walls. Then the household got the news the electricity needed to be turned off–their house was on the same circuit as the Care Center; authorities had determined it would be unsafe to leave the power on in the flooded building.

 

Still, the Maurers’ network of assistance held.

 

To keep the six pumps running, four generators were found.

 

Becky remembers watching the fire hydrant across the street. At its highest, the water left only the large nut on the top visible. At that point, water had surrounded their house on three sides, had come all the way up the driveway, and was beginning to lap a few inches into the garage.

 

She and Rudy remember feeling a surge of relief when the water first held at that height and then, what seemed like an eternity later, gradually began to reveal more and more of the hydrant’s red length.

 

In the midst of all that tension, the couple could not help being pleased when a hummingbird made its way across the flooded terrain and stopped to dine at the feeder hanging outside their front door.

 

Though it probably looked from the outside as though their home was deluged, Becky describes their experiences that day as a flood of blessings.

 

“What we went through, that wasn’t anything compared to everyone else,” she says firmly. “We’re grateful for the help from our family. We’re grateful for the volunteers who were willing to get us sandbags.” She particularly mentions area farmer Matt Holland who drove his skid loader through water to deliver the bags.

 

“We worked really hard and we had a lot of help.

 

“But still it seems like a miracle we had almost no damage,” she says. “We feel awful for people who lost so much, and we know we were blessed.”