The Flood of 2013: A Summer of Angry Rivers in Southern Alberta

Today, on the 100th day after the 2013 flooding began, I want to share with you the Calgary Herald's new book about the 2013 floods that will raise funds for the Calgary Foundation's Flood Rebuilding Fund. This beautiful commemorative book captures those disastrous days with powerful photos and thoughtful words from Herald photographers and writers.

To learn more about the book and where you may purchase it, check out this blog post by Herald managing editor Monica Zurowski.

It was an honour to be asked to write the foreword. Here it is in full:

We will never forget the summer of 2013.

There are images that are burned into my mind forever. Things I never thought I would see.

Some were awful.

I saw the Bow and Elbow Rivers--those rivers that run in the bloodstream of every Calgarian--run higher and faster and angrier than ever before.

I saw neighbourhoods under water and property ruined.

I saw broken streets and bridges and hearts.

But I also saw so much goodness. I saw the best of the human spirit. And I saw the best of public service.

I was away when it became clear I would need to authorize a local state of emergency. After managing the situation by phone in the early hours, I arrived back in Calgary late that evening. After an on-the-ground briefing, I needed to see our city.

Through the night, I drove with an incredibly patient and understanding police officer through the city. It was dark and quiet, most of the evacuations having been completed, and literally the calm before the storm as we waited for the rivers to crest.

I held my breath watching the Bow River nearly touch the bottom of the Langevin Bridge. Even in the police vehicle, we could not enter large parts of Bowness that were already under water. And I knew from pictures and news reports of the pain and damage upstream and downstream--in Canmore and Bragg Creek, on the Siksika First Nation, and in High River.

I spoke with incredibly tired guys who described themselves as "labourers" who were furiously bailing out the Glenmore Water Treatment Plant to keep it, and our water supply, safe.

I met police officers, in the 20th hour of their shift, evacuating senior citizens in the middle of the night. There was a language barrier, people were scared and confused, and it would have been very easy for the whole situation to have gone very badly very quickly.

But my police colleagues treated those citizens with such professionalism, care, and love that I knew at that moment we were going to be OK.

And in the ensuing days, I continued to see public service at its best. Colleagues at the wastewater treatment plant who waded into the dark, fast water with pitchforks to save their plant. Folks who drove monster garbage trucks up and down streets to restore a bit of normalcy. Colleagues building a new road in one day and returning the C-train to service in unbelievable time. We’re blessed to have them all.

Certainly, I also thank the federal and provincial public servants--including full-time and reserve members of the Canadian Forces--for all they did and continue to do.

The most enduring image of the floods, though, is that of the citizen--covered head to toe with mud and mosquito bites, cut and scraped and bruised--working hard to save the home of someone she doesn’t even know.

Every one of us figured out how to use our own hands, hearts, and minds to help our neighbours.

Why? Because it's what we do.

I’m knocked to my knees every time I think about that sign in Bowness put up by a family that had their home completely gutted. "We lost some stuff; we gained a community."

This story repeats, hundreds and thousands of times, across the city and the province. I once asked a volunteer if she was affected by the flood.

"I live in Forest Lawn," she told me. "My neighbourhood didn’t see any water. My basement is dry."

"But, Mayor, we were all affected by the flood."

We did a good job of rebuilding quickly. It’s almost unbelievable that we had the Stampede, that we enjoyed the Folk Festival. But much remains to be done, in Calgary and around Southern Alberta. So thanks to the Calgary Herald for putting together this book and giving people another chance to help.

The floods reinforced that we, as a community, can do amazing things. That we can show so much compassion and give so much of our resources to friends and neighbours, whether we know them or not. We, as Calgarians and Southern Albertans, should be proud of what we have accomplished together.

Because it's what we do.

- Mayor Naheed Nenshi