The evacuation

A midnight run was made to pick up s’aughter (I’m trying an apostrophe today. What do you think?) Shelby from her dorm room in Moorhead. The river is about to crest about five blocks from her campus. She’d been a hard working little sandbagger, but everyone from that area has been evacuated. Big Daddy and my dad, Mr. News, made the trip up after Brent finished playing with his lounge band in — of all places — a lounge. (I exaggerate. It’s a very nice wine bar.)

I think there was relief on Shelby’s part along with a small feeling of abandoning the ship. I say if the ship’s sewage has been turned off, it’s time to jump. S’on (That doesn’t work as well.) Jeremy is reported to have said through gritted teeth that he was not leaving. He lives on the Fargo side away from the river. His area hasn’t been evacuated and, I imagine, this is the time to be making those big part-time bucks at his job at Fleet Farm.

It’s a hard thing to write about the flood from where I sit. As you know, I tend to go for the cheap laugh, but there’s nothing terribly funny about people losing their homes and businesses.

So maybe I’ll just be quiet today.

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