Days of rain had swelled the river, floods threatened to break loose over the dam. People in the village below looked in fear at it. This dam had been there since the 16th century and had never broken. That was about to change.
It happened at approximately 3 PM on a Saturday. Rain had been falling for 5 days straight now. Reports of mudslides from other towns had come in, but we were below where they were occurring. People fled our town in the valley and moved to higher ground. I along with some other people stayed and watched. I was eating an apple on my front porch, looking at the mountains so majestic, like rocky spires protruding in to the heavens while listening to the pitter-patter of rain on the ground. Then, a loud rumble, almost like thunder, disturbed me from this amazing scenery I looked up for the dam. It was gone. All I saw was the torrent of water careening down the mountainside. My instinct reaction was to run inside but I didn't want to drown so I decided to run to the mountain opposite from the other one. I was joined by others and we ran to a near by hill. We got there just as the water reached the base of the mountain. We watched the flow of water pulverize houses and swallow the trees and vegetation.
When the water receded, all that was left was the natural landscape and little pools formed in the foundations of houses. That event changed my life forever. The looks on peoples faces. Looks of awe and sadness. This changed my thinking on where to live.
