“HOW ARE YOU FOLKS DOING?” I ask. In retrospect that seems like an idiotic question given the man, woman and an elementary-aged girl are working outside a flood-damaged home in Zumbro Falls.
But I don’t know what else to say and I genuinely do care about their welfare. The woman’s answer is unemotional and I can’t even tell you exactly what she said because her answer to my second question still burns.
“Is it OK if I take your picture?” I ask.
“I don’t want my picture anywhere,” she lashes out at me.
I do not expect this explosive reaction.
Then I turn my head toward the blonde-haired girl, who is sitting on the bumper of a pick-up truck to which a trailer is attached. I can’t even tell you what was in the trailer or the truck. But I remember that little girl’s face.
“You look sad,” I say, looking directly at her. She doesn’t respond. She just sits there.
At that moment, in that child’s face, I see the personal anguish, the fear, the devastation, the loss, that this late September flood has wreaked upon residents of this southeastern Minnesota community. The toll reaches far beyond the physical destruction of homes and businesses and possessions—including a trashed child’s red bicycle I’ve seen inside this family’s open garage.
This family is hurting. And as much as I wish this stressed-out woman had not taken her anger and frustration out on me, I understand.
There will be no photos of them, only my words, her anger, to show the tragic faces of this natural disaster.
The flood-damaged garage of the Zumbro Falls woman who would not allow me to photograph her.
© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling
Minnesota Prairie Roots 
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