I am watching my hometown suffer from afar. And it's killing me.
The Grand Ole Opry is flooded. The Cascades in the Opryland Hotel, one of the coolest things about Nashville, is under water. I went to prom there.
My father and stepmother had to be evacuated from their home in Pegram by boat. I could not get in touch with my Dad for many hours, and once I talked to him he filled me in. They were safe, he said, but it was the "most horrible night of his life."
They took my family to a senior citizen center by bus after getting them off the boat. My Dad said as they rode along, the water from the Harpeth River was covering the roadway. He told me an elderly lady being transported along with him screamed into her cell phone, "I don't know if we are going to make it. If I don't, y'all just divide my things evenly. I love y'all."
They did make it, but once they arrived at the senior citizen center he was told he couldn't bring his (tiny, tiny) lap dog in the facility. Not sure what they thought he would do with a 3 pound dog in a flood, but since he was told the dog could come, after some bitching, the dog got to stay.
They slept on cots.
Now they are at a motel in Ashland City awaiting word on whether they will again need to evacuate, as the nearest dam is in danger of breaking.
I go home in less than a month. It won't look like the place I remember.
I want nothing more than to be sandbagging downtown right now. Instead I am stuck here, constantly refreshing Twitter for more news.
Hang in there, Tennessee. It will be okay.