Our community is nothing but neighborly, and even people in trouble seem to be thinking of others. When another neighbor’s house filled with a foot of water, her gas chimney suddenly caught fire. Fortunately her son hurried downstairs to turn off the gas knob. She took the time to write, “If you have a gas chimney and are starting to flood please turn your gas off to prevent fire!”

I called one close friend, Angela Watts, early in the morning, and I was amazed how brave she was as she explained that she, her daughter and dog were hunkered down on the second floor after water started pouring into her house. “There’s nothing I can do. I’m upstairs,” she said. “I’m thinking the water will just keep coming in. We have our food upstairs, and water too. We can’t go anywhere.”

I found the conversation upsetting, but 15 minutes later we were in exactly the same situation. Now there is six inches of water in our house and at least a foot outside.

I have managed to salvage my Persian rug and hope that hangings and art that I have collected over the years will be safe. Funny how you sometimes think of relatively unimportant things in an emergency, but these things are like the museum pieces of my life. One of our toilets is already backed up, but we’ll have to manage since the local sewage system seems to be completely backed up. We expect to lose our power any time.

After initially panicking a bit, the three of us got hold of ourselves and got to work. Paola cooked all our meat, figuring it is going to spoil anyway and we are bound to get hungry. Emilie and I filled garbage bags with our plentiful collection of classical and jazz CDs. I wrapped up a beautiful antique lamp I inherited from my father. Emilie salvaged a few bottles of wine, vermouth and gin, knowing I’m probably going to get thirsty for more than water and juice. We laughed together, as we focused on survival mode. This is a character building moment for her, and so I need to keep calm and be a good, fatherly example.

We just lost our electricity.

And the weather forecast is for at least two more days of rain. Outside my window, the houses on the street look like sinking ships. And along with taking care of my family, it’s hard not to worry about my ability to continue to cover a story with enormous consequences for the city where I live, for the national economy and perhaps for consideration of climate change.

Around 12:30 p.m. the rain suddenly stopped. But our electricity and hardline telephone are out. We are not sure whether the water is safe to drink from our tap. And I hear that another wave of rain is on the way, and another, and another for the next couple of days. It’s going to be a long week.