I’ve never seen such strong, unrelenting rain as that which I witnessed last Thursday. Each week, I look at the weather forecast to determine my biking days. If rain is scheduled for the afternoon, I cycle in the morning. Last week, I had no idea that a once-in-a century weather event was about to hit.
If there is precipitation in the forecast, we usually have a break from heavy rains, even if it is just for an hour or two. But last Thursday’s storm just kept going and going without a second of respite.
While I’m not ecstatic about living on a hill in the winter, I was very thankful this month. For me, the impact of the July 15 storm and flooding was minimal. All the water ran downhill, so I experienced zero flooding. Those at the bottom of the hill were not so lucky. Nor were those in southeastern Belgium and Germany.
I was touched by the outpouring of concern from friends. People I hadn’t heard from in years reached out to me via email and social media to be sure I was okay. Belgium is such a small country that they were worried I was among those hit by the storm. A few friends and relatives were shocked to hear the news. They hadn’t seen coverage of the disaster until I posted on social media that I was okay.
Historic Flooding
Did you miss the news? Last week, a once-a-lifetime flood hammered western Europe as heavy rains surged through Germany, Belgium, Luxembourg and the Netherlands. Nearly 200 people were killed by the deluge and hundreds are still missing. Belgium and Germany were the hardest hit. Cars, people and even homes were swept away as rivers rushed through towns and villages. Tens of thousands of people are homeless. Clean-up costs are in the hundreds of millions.
The devastation was horrifying, especially in Germany where Prime Minister Angela Merkel called it “surreal” and “ghostly,” adding that there are no words in the German language to describe the actual devastation.
Shocking scenes emerged on the news with reports from CBS and France24. The devastation was hard to fathom. Think post World War II. Piles of rubble lined streets throughout small villages. It looked as if a bomb had gone off.
Flooding in Flanders
My town in Flemish Brabant was hit by flooding. While some homes were damaged, no lives were lost. Streets remained closed for a few days, and my regular bike paths were flooded and unaccessible. The impact on me was minimal, just a minor inconvenience to my regular cycling routine. I have no complaints, though, just prayers for the people, homes and businesses lost.
In Rotselaar, a town about 38 miles northeast of Brussels, fields became lakes and streets rivers. Even as the water receded, I could feel the power of the water when I cycled from my home to the town below. The water looked calm, but the power of the stream pushed my bike across the road. I could only imagine what a stronger surge would do do a car. It was frightening to consider.
I didn’t experience the devastation firsthand, but I had a small taste of the destruction. A friend’s yard sat underwater as the creek nearby surged, engulfing his home and turning it into a lake property. My usual bike paths were flooded with smelly, swamp water, making them impassable. Signs for road closures popped up along main roads, and access to the highway was blocked, making a quick commute to the expressway a long, traffic-filled detour. I shuddered to think just how bad it was an hour south of me where the impact of the storm was the most severe. And where so many lives were lost.
Of course, there are idiots in every disaster. I watched as a young man, covered in tattoos, rammed his muscle car down a road that had been closed by police due to flooding. Water flew high into the air, hitting an older woman on the other side of the road, drenching her in swamp water from head to toe. You can’t fix stupid wherever you live.
Horror in Liège
Belgium’s hardest hit area was Liège, which is located in southeastern Belgium. The Meuse River surged through the area taking with it cars, train lines, homes and people. Within a day, the affected areas in both Belgium and Germany attracted “disaster tourists,” people traveling to see the destruction, a practice that local officials called reprehensible.
Belgium’s king and queen visited the disaster zone last Friday, one day after the storm. They viewed firsthand the areas affected and the remaining high waters. Tuesday was set as a national day of mourning, and celebrations for Belgian National Day on July 21 were minimized out of respect for those killed by the flooding.
Climate Change and Flooding
Some flooding is not unexpected in the spring, but it is practically unheard of during the summer. Pierre Ozer, a leading climatologist from the University of Liège, told Politico that this is something that occurs “maybe once every 1,000 years.” He attributes the disaster to climate change and claims that all of the city of Liège would have been flooded if just a few more centimetres of rain hit.
So, the question is what went wrong? Why weren’t people warned of the impending storm and the damage it could cause? Those questions have yet to be answered.
Caring For the Community
The caring nature of the community in both Belgium and Germany was heartening. Everyone stepped in and volunteered to help with clean-up. It’s just part of the community spirit that makes me love Belgium and Europe. In my town, donations are being made to help the victims: clothing, food, toys and more. We look out for each other. Now, we pray that those unaccounted for will be found alive, that Mother Nature didn’t destroy everything, and that a system can be put in place to prevent anything like this from ever happening again.
Superb fluidity of words describing the recent devastation.
Thanks for the eye witness report. I too have a home on top of a hill in Freerort, Maine, and as you say, winters can be difficult. But several years ago we received about 20 cm of rain in an afternoon. My gravel driveway ended up at the bottom of the 30m high Torrey Hill. Luckily, my neighbor has a tractor and he hauled all the stone back up for me. So, be careful about minimizing the perils of living on the hill. You might still end up in the ditch of your own driveway but fortunately not drowned.