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As a clinical psychologist in North Dakota it was and continues to be difficult to analyze and comprehend the suffering of so many of the people in Grand Forks, East Grand Forks, and the Red River Valley, for I myself suffered the destruction of part of my home and the displacement of my family away from Grand Forks. Even though I am an expert in human behavior and provide clinical mental health services in many areas of human suffering, for a time it was difficult to look past my own loss to see that tens of thousands of our neighbors, our relatives, our friends were going through the same thing: the loss of our homes, our routines, our jobs, and our interactions with others. For some, as the recent discussions in our cities over planning preventive strategies to deal with future floods are now demonstrating, the changes may be permanent, because too many of our fellow citizens will not be returning to their homes or businesses, at least not in the places they used to call home or work. As I returned home and began the process of reclaiming my property, I began to look beyond my own problems to the issues facing all of us: reclaiming our cities. I began this process while being a refugee in Fargo, my second stop before inching my way north slowly but surely and receiving the hospitality of the good folks of Mayville, North Dakota.Winters in North Dakota are not for the timid. In the early spring of 1993 when I interviewed for an academic position at the University of North Dakota, I learned about the challenging winter climate, and did not have to wait long to experience it during my first winter. Wind chills approaching 80 below zero are not uncommon here in the Red River Valley, the eastern corridor that separates North Dakota from Minnesota. Here is the most fertile soil on Earth, even richer, many maintain than the Nile valley. North Dakota is one of the largest agricultural states in America, producing more wheat and other grains than Kansas. The statistics on crime here in North Dakota are excellent, as are most of the other indices of "healthy" living, including education, health care, programs for children, etc. There is a good quality of life that defines being in North Dakota, but to live it is to become a citizen of winter for several months out of the year. This past winter, my fourth in North Dakota, we saw 8 major blizzards (the last nicknamed Hannah) which caused many of us to go without heat (when it was hovering around zero in early April), electiricty, or other necessities for some time. Barely two weeks after that the flood of the millennium struck the cities of Grand Forks (on the North Dakota side) and East Grand Forks (in Minnesota). We were preparing for a 49 foot crest of the Red River of the North (the river normally runs between 15-17 feet, with 29 feet the beginnings of flood stage). We sandbagged nonstop, raising our dikes to 52 feet–just in case. The crest, when it finally did come, was over 54 feet, if my scattered memories of exact figures remains intact.
We were all affected in one way or another from the flood. The cities were evacuated, most homes took on water, many up to the rooftops. Eleven buildings in the downtown of Grand Forks were scorched with fire and reduced to ruin. Returning to our homes, we started the desperate routine of emptying the water from our lower levels, and gutting our houses. Federal agencies, visits by the President, Speaker of the House, Cabinet officials, other members of Congress and dignitaries then started. Our city, especially in the downtown, looked like Beirut!
Schools were closed, including the University of North Dakota, which became the emergency operations center for the city. I myself spent weeks as a nomad before returning to my home for the cleanup. I and my family trekked to Winnipeg, Canada, then Fargo, North Dakota, and then I took toothbrush in hand and lived in a shelter at Mayville, North Dakota, while my wife returned to her native Arkansas to be with her family.
One afternoon while at the Mayville shelter I called the National Institute of Mental Health and spoke with a colleague, Dr. Ellen Gerrity, the acting chief of the Violence and Traumatic Stress Research branch. Dr. Gerrity and I spoke for some time on the psychological impact of natural disasters on its victims (some would prefer the term survivors, as East Grand Forks Mayor Stauss suggests). Dr. Gerrity shared with me her clinical research in this area, and arranged to send me a packet of materials so that I as a clinical psychologist could share some of this information with you, my neighbors. In only 2 days after my conversation with Dr. Gerrity, I held in my hand a large packet of materials sent from Rockville, Maryland to a temporary address I had arranged to receive mail. I had read some of the material before; however, now that I myself was experiencing what the clinical researchers were writing about, I read the research reports with a freshness of purpose and interest. I then took to the local radio airwaves, stressing that the central point I could make to my fellow citizens of Grand Forks and East Grand Forks, was that we were not alone! I then shared the research that I was reading about, the fact that nobody who sees a disaster is untouched by it. I talked about individual and collective trauma, that most people pull together after a disaster, something we saw time and time again in the greater Grand Forks community. However, as fatigue, frustrations and disillusionment sometimes set in, more stress symptoms may appear and our abilities to make sound judgments may be diminished, at least in the short term. It's a normal part of surviving a catastrophe to feel a sense of fatigue and confusion. Disaster stress and grief reactions are a normal response to what we have all experienced as an abnormal environmental situation. It is very important to remember, I told my friends and neighbors, that many emotional reactions of disaster survivors come from the problems in daily living that were caused by the flood.
Time passed, and the rebuilding continues. FEMA trailers are everywhere, most of the sidewalks and curbs are cleared of debris, and businesses are starting to open up again. The downtown is still a mess, but one thing I learned first hand is that even though we all have developed unique coping strategies to deal with the flood of ‘97 and its aftermath, looking at the process here in Grand Forks, I can attest to the simple fact that social support systems are crucial to our recovery. The most important support system we all have is usually our families, and it is important, where practical, to keep families together and seek support from our families. Making time for our families and friends was also important as we begin the rebuilding process. Although many of us (myself included) felt that each waking minute should be devoted to cleaning, pumping water, and calling electricians, planning at least brief interactive moments and getaways with was very important.
I think that we should all remember that even though our physical community was submerged for a time by the waters, the heart and soul of the greater Grand Forks community was untouched by the Red River. It is this special community we have here in Grand Forks that will serve as the stimulus for all of us to rebuild. We may (and will) disagree with one another about who deserved the "Angel" gift, or where the new dike should be located, but as long as we never lose our sense of being here with and for each other, and as long as we feel confident that we can share our joys and sorrows with our friends, family, neighbors, and those agencies who have come here to help us and lend a hand, then we will never be defeated by the great flood of ‘97.
Copyright © 1997 Traumatology Forum
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