Alone in the Dark and a Flood; Another Friday the 13th story

 

It was dark outside, really dark.  Thick, low-hanging clouds blanketed the night sky, obscuring the moon and stars.  The typhoon had knocked out the city's power completely, except for the few homes powered by generators.  The only real light to be seen was the lights of my van as I drove through the empty city.  It was too early for most to be up.  It is just before 5 am on Friday, the 13th of November, and I am on my way to pick up my senior Assistant, Elder Dela Cruz in a feeble attempt to at least do one small scale rescue. As I drive I am enveloped by the darkness and quiet.  It is eerie and strangely unsettling.

The night before, Donna, Elder Dela Cruz and I were up past midnight sending a missionary off to his home by van.  In the good old pre-pandemic days we would send all of our missionaries off on the same day at the same time.  Now, with the pandemic, we send missionaries home several times a month and we receive missionaries two or three times a month as well.  I collapsed into bed just before 1 AM.  At 4:30 am my phone began to ring.  It was not time to sleep. There was a full-on panic flood happening. Missionaries were in trouble.  

It is about three weeks shy of one year since our last major flood in the mission (see Emergency Evacuation December 10, 2019).  One year ago we received the all clear after a major typhoon passed through the Philippines then got slapped by the tail of the typhoon which caused the Magat Dam to approach maximum capacity and open it floodgates.  The results were catastrophic.  To quote Yogi Berra, “It’s like déjà vu all over again”.  The past two weeks have seen several huge typhoons pass through the Philippines, completely saturating the ground here in the Cauayan Valley.  Typhoon Ulysses passed to the south of us on Wednesday night.  We missed the dangerous winds but were pounded by rain.  As Ulysses exited the western Philippines, we breathed a huge sigh of relief.  That was short-sighted on our part. Once again, the tail of the typhoon swung around and hit us hard.  Magat Dam hit critical capacity and they opened all seven floodgates as wide as they could.  A wall of water would again go crashing down the river and into the valley.  We were caught completely unawares.  The Lord, however, was not caught unawares and intervened to protect two very vulnerable missionaries.  Late yesterday afternoon the Becks, one of our wonderful senior couples, were driving to pick up one of our missionaries in the far north of our mission. When they reached Alinguigan they knew there was a dangerous problem.  The river had blown is banks.  The sides of the road were littered with livestock and belongings of people fleeing their homes and saving what they could.  They knew our missionaries who lived on a low piece of ground were in trouble.  Miraculously there was a rubber boat nearby and the owner of it was happy to take Elder Beck to our Elders and bring them back to safety.  On their way they rescued a dog who was furiously paddling for shore.  The Elders got out with very little but were happy to save the dog.  If the Becks had not happened on the scene it could have ended very badly for these Elders.  Their home is now under 12 or 13 feet of water.  Most of the area is now huddled into our chapel or other places of refuge.

As word of this incident reached us we put calls out to all of our young mission leaders to check on their missionaries.  It seemed that this flood was an isolated incident and all were safe except in the deep south of our mission in Bambang which was under 4 feet of water.  All our missionaries in Bambang were either safe or evacuated to missionary apartments on higher ground.  We underestimated the strength of this storm's tail and went to bed.  At 4:30 AM the first call for help came in from Enrile.  They were under about 4 feet of water in their apartment and had retreated upstairs.  The water was rising fast.  Because the power grid had been knock out they only had 10% battery life left in their phone.  A quick call to our Area Seventy who lives in Enrile revealed that at 4:30 in the morning he was frantically moving all he could from his house to high ground as water had breached the home and it was filling fast.  The roads were impassable and Enrile was cut off.  More calls would soon come in from our missionaries in Tuguegarao, Santiago, Alcala, Cabagan, Naguilian and Alinguigan.  Water was coming in and they were heading for higher ground.  Last year we launched a major evacuation of our missionaries and had a grand adventure in the process.  This year our window of opportunity closed too fast, as this flood surpassed last years in fury and speed.  The water under the Buntun Bridge, which grants access to Tuguegarao City had risen over 40 feet and was very near the bridge deck.  There could be no adventure or rescue because the roads were now closed.  

At 4:30 in the morning it is dark and kind of scary.  Knowing you are cut off from getting your missionaries to safety makes that darkness more intense.  In the darkness urgent prayers are sent to heaven; "O God help me not to lose these who are mine.  I love them. Please help."  By 5 AM we hoped we could at least reach the Naguilian Elders, because they did not have a second story on their house and they were cut off from getting out.  We could not reach them.  The roads were impassable. We glumly returned to the mission office and waited and prayed.  

Later, as the morning wore on and the rain stopped we were able to get through and at least reach these two elders in Naguilian.  The short rescue mission brought back memories of a much grander rescue which now only lives in the halls of memory.  This rescue was not without it excitement.  We were stopped on the national highway and told it was still impassable as a small stretch was under 3-4 feet of water.  We had a pickup truck so we convinced them to let us give it a try.  We followed closely a large truck who pushed some of the water away.   Water still came up onto the hood and we heard the water hitting the fan of the motor.  We expected any moment to have our motor swamp in the water and then be stuck in a terrible spot.  Even the police officers cheered for us as we emerged up the far bank.  

Eventually, with the assistance of wonderful priesthood leaders we were able to contact all of our missionaries.  The rain has stopped and the waters will slowly subside.  My young missionaries  remain happy and positive viewing all of this as a grand adventure.  Tonight as I visited with  Elders in Enrile on a phone loaned to them by a neighbour, they told of how the neighbours and local members of the Church swam to their home through the brown churning water to lend them a phone, bring them food and ensure they were safe.  Filipinos are so kind and amazing.  Elder Agustin who has been on his mission for only 10 days views it as a great and fun experience.  His companion, Elder Dela Cruz, (not the assistant but the one evacuated home to the Philippines from a mission in Africa) used some of the remaining battery in his phone to take a picture and send it to the assistants phone with a text.  The text told that there was a crocodile in their apartment (there ARE crocodiles in the Philippines).  I love these great young missionaries.  We are not out of harm's way yet.  There are prayers to be uttered and worrying to be done, but the worst is behind us.   What a great adventure.