Rain was already coursing through the usually dry creek near Abraham Stallins’ home in the Texas Hill Country when a flash flood warning lit up his phone. It was just after midnight on July 5, and many neighbors were sleeping, but Stallins, who tends to stay up late anyway, decided to keep an eye on things.
Three hours later, as the storm crescendoed, Stallins opened the front door to see what it was doing. He found water pouring off the roof in sheets and lapping the threshold. Alarmed, he shouted for his wife, Andrea, to fetch buckets and towels to mop up the rain that was starting to seep in, then ran outside. Hacking at the soaked earth with a shovel and pickax, he frantically dug a trench to lead the torrent away from the house. Five minutes later, the water began to follow the channel and Stallins collapsed into bed.
He was dozing when a friend called around 10:30 a.m. to ask if he’d seen the bridge, the only way in or out of their subdivision. Stallins said he hadn’t. “Dude, I can’t even explain it to you,” came the reply. “You’ve just gotta go... Read more
