When Abe and I started reporting, we met people from the community and out of town who tried to help. I watched as New Mexico National Guard service members loaded sand bags into families’ cars, people prepared hot meals for those who had been displaced and volunteers handed out donated supplies from collection centers.
While we were reporting one afternoon, it started raining. Fear swept through me. Our phones lit up with flood warnings from the National Weather Service. We knew we should take them seriously.
Abe and I sought refuge in a local brewery perched high above the river basin. Before we knew it, the water from that thin little creek of Rio Ruidoso became a torrent. The rushing water rose quickly. It swept through the river valley right under the brewery, carrying what looked like trees and debris with it.