Saturday, August 13th 2016 Denham Springs, Louisiana Me and my friends were frantically texting each other, trying to get a hold of one another. We had no idea if they had gone under or if they were okay. One of my friends texted me saying “There is no water here, I am safe.” The same friend twenty minutes later texted me saying “My house is under water.” I have never been so scared in my entire life, I had no idea if my house was going to go under or not, or if some of my friends were even still alive. Many of my friends houses were full of water, them stranded on their roofs. I watched on the news as I saw the only town I have ever lived in be destroyed by water. My high school started filling up with water. Everyone was terrified. The most sickening feeling was getting text messages saying “Kayla, I am scared. I don’t know if I am going to be okay.”
Sunday, August 14th 2016 Denham Springs, Louisiana I woke up and looked out my window. I screamed when I saw the water had risen three feet. I ran outside to see the water was four inches from coming into my house. I checked on my friends, everyone I knew had lost everything or was stranded in their houses. There was no way to get out of my house, the water was chest deep and the currents were strong. Even if we wanted to leave, we couldn’t. We were stranded. The water started to rise, and then the rain came. The water started leaking into my house. I was scared. I was so scared. Soon after the water started coming up through the floors, the water stood at a stand-still. It stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. I had no idea if it would rise suddenly, taking all of my belongings and memories with it, just like it did to my friend’s. The water then fell a foot. The water was no longer in my house, but stayed very high throughout the day. The threat was still there. We then began to realize that we had little food and water. We scavenged whatever we could from my house to make a small dinner for my family. I looked on the news, only to see that my school had been flooded over the roof. The school that only a few days prior I was laughing and learning at. I saw everything. I saw the neighborhoods and shops flooded up to the rooftops. I saw the children and babies being rescued by helicopters from a deadly situation. I saw the amazing Coast Guard and National Guard rescuing people by boat and helicopter. I saw residents going out, risking their own lives to save the lives of others. I saw thousands of people homeless with nothing to their name except the clothes on their backs and the children in their arms. I saw heartbreak, all across my city. All across my state.
Monday, August 15th 2016 Denham Springs, Louisiana Today I wake up and the water has dropped two feet. I am one of the lucky ones, and I am eternally grateful. Many of my friends remain in shelters, unable to leave. There is no way to get out of the city. The roads are flooded and broken. I am so thankful that my friends are now safe, and out of harms way. I am stranded in my home, still unable to leave. Still unable to get food. I am so saddened by this destruction and this terrible situation we are all in. The places we made these memories at may be gone, but the memories will never be washed away. My heart is broken, but my spirits are not. I know we will come out of this strong. It will take a long time to rebuild my city, but the community is stronger than ever. We must rejoice that our family and friends have come out of this alive, not be mournful of the items we have lost.
Items and buildings are replaceable but our lives are not.
Michigan Governor Rick Snyder testified this Thursday at a Flint congressional hearing over the water crisis. Snyder, who oversaw the state while its residents were being poisoned by the bacteria and lead-infested water, was the subject of harsh criticism from Congressmen Matt Cartwright who believes that the governor knew more than what he is saying about the tainted water supply.
Thank you, Rep. Cartwright. It was thoroughly enjoyable to watch this criminal be told he’s a phony and a liar to his face. Snyder’s led a privileged life where he’s never been in a position to be chastised by anyone, and he certainly deserved this one given that 100,000 people were poisoned under his watch. #Hate it!
Federal police and military force is massacring activists and professors who were protesting against the laboral/educative reform. I repeat, they’re massacring them. They’re are killing them and burning them outside Nochixtlán.
On another news, right now in the main plaza, the center of Oaxaca, federal police have cut the lights to make “cleaning” which means dragging and killing all the protesters they can. Ambulances and military jeeps were advising people for NOT helping the protesters or take refugees, or they will be “cleaned” too.
6 protesters were confirmed killed due to the use of large weapons by the police. More protesters are disappeared and some are confirmed (just by the survivors) death or burned. In Hacienda Blanca they were killed too.
Also, hospitals, doctors and medicine students aren’t allowed to help or receive the protester, all of this are orders coming from president Enrique Peña Nieto, and the public education secretary Aurelio Nuño Mayer.
Reaction to the Florida mass shooting at the Pulse Orlando nightclub
Sunday when police say a gunman wielding an assault-type rifle opened
fire before dying in a gunfight with SWAT officers, at least 49 people
were killed and dozens of others wounded. (AP)
Things I’ve learned not to say in the hospital at the very moment of pain and tragedy:
“Everything will be okay.”
“You’re so strong!”
“Pain is what forces you to grow.”
“God has an amazing plan for your life!”
“God is using this for your good.”
“God just wanted another angel in heaven.”
“It could’ve been worse.”
“At least you’re still alive. At least—”
“Cheer up and stay positive!”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“I understand what you’re going through.”
“Time to pray really hard and read more Bible.”
“God is using this as a wake-up call.”
“Be the change you want to see in the world.”
— and other motivational poster clichés.
Things I’ve learned to say in the hospital at the very moment of pain and tragedy (and even then, not every time):
“I’m sorry.” “How are you right now?” “I don’t think it’s wrong to be mad.” (Or scared, or hurt, or sad, or weeping, or uncertain.) “How can I pray for you?” “I’m always here.” Or the best thing: listen.