ITDRC Brings Communications Lifelines to MI Recovery

Michigan Seeks Assistance Following Dam Failures
The Michigan dam failures, like all dam failures, came at an inconvenient time — in the middle of a pandemic. With society already on edge from COVID-19, disasters seem to highlight a cruel and unyielding world.
The alert came in the middle of the night, bedroom lights illuminated exhausted neighborhoods. The emergency communication…”Seek high ground.” Bob North, head of Gladwin County’s Emergency Operations Center had time to make one phone call. North, knowing his state’s geography called the town of Midland, who sits at a lower sea level. “The water is coming,” said North. The response he heard on the other end of the receiver spoke as a collective feeling for the entire county. “Oh, shit,” and the line clicked. That was it. It’s not a quick fix.
9 feet of water ripped through farm towns as two lakes emptied every drop of water downstream. Businesses and homes were dragged off their foundations, waves uprooted trees, demolished streets, tangling concrete and bridges.
The urgent communication to seek high ground, evacuating the 10,000 citizens who live below the dams prevented the loss of life. “The water has to go somewhere,” said North “Dams don’t just flood the area, the water keeps going and we are central so, it had a ways to go.”
Disaster responses have a protocol. Emergency management teams keep a stack of binders on what to do and who to call in case of different scenarios, we would all rather not think about, actually happened.
EOC teams can be a one person job for small towns like Gladwin and Midland. North is relatively new to his EOC role. He started 15 months ago and hasn’t taken a break since March, when COVID guidelines had to be put into place. Now the county faces disaster clean up and organizing shelters in hotels to prevent the spread of COVID-19 while survivors work to rebuild their homes. “Usually people have patience, but during lock down, that patience is gone” North said.
The Information Technology Disaster Resource Center has been preparing for a unique disaster response since COVID-19 made its way to the U.S., changing the way disaster relief works in 2020. ITDRC deployed a team of volunteers to aid the Michigan communities as they struggled to organize with few outside resources.
Gladwin County was inundated with calls of well contamination and damaged property. Rural Michigan runs on well water; after the dam broke, the wells dried up. Adding to the urgency, Gladwin also has a great elderly population that now face lock down without access to water.
North put out an urgent call for volunteers. In times of crisis, communities ordinarily come together to recover, but in the age of a global pandemic, the fear of exposure kept volunteers away. “Right now it’s like our volunteer base has become an inverted pyramid,” said North “COVID has really changed how quickly we can respond because we are still figuring out the safest way to do that.”
The lack of outside assistance makes it difficult for Gladwin to document the impact to their community. In order to apply for federal funding, every home without running water, or damage from the flood must be assessed and accounted for. Because cell carriers don’t always have good coverage in rural areas, the team was collecting this data on a white boards in the form of tallies. “Nobody in the state of Michigan has dealt with something on this scale” said North “There’s a lot of moving parts on this one and we are asking for people to be patient with us because getting community assistance is a big if.” Recovery has to be a team effort, even in times of social isolation.
TECH ON THE MOVE

Time with a tech in the field is nonstop. It’s what they call “thirsty work”. Climbing up and down ladders in the summer heat, there’s got to be a good reason to work like that. It’s not your typical office space either, and when you arrive the work has already piled up.
ITDRC tech Kate Norem does not avoid the work surrounding her. It’s a couple of clicks of her utility belt and lots of heavy lifting. This is the job — and if you’ve volunteered with ITDRC you know, there’s only room for passion. Norem has no shortage of gusto when it comes to bridging the communications gap with ITDRC.

Norem bursts through the church doors with a laugh, gear strung about her ornamentally. Norem goes into disaster zones prepared for anything, and anything includes a headlamp.
“Hey guys!” She says loud enough through her mask for the whole room to hear, “I’m back!”
The food pantry volunteers greet her with many questions at once. Half about their tech problems and the other half about Kate’s family and diet. Small town love hasn’t slowed a bit during one of the biggest disaster’s Michigan has faced.
Norem has been deployed in the area for several weeks, helping with immediate tech needs, and identifying connectivity needs for long term recovery.
The food pantry, like many town staples on ITDRC’s site list, is more than a food pantry. It’s not your average grab and go grocery store.
The pantry, located at Sacred Heart Church, is offering more than just food because the needs are growing. The church is acutely aware that the children in their community have gone through the summer of the pandemic and have now lost their homes before school is set to reopen. In response, the food pantry has a child friendly section that they continue to receive donations for. The kid zone of this disaster relief set up offers coloring books, toys, and some school supplies. ITDRC established WiFi at the Sacred Heart Church, and provided computer tablets to assist in their multi functional cause. Keeping up with displaced families is a new focus of the food pantry since the tablets have arrived. They are able to better track the number of times families have visited, and when a family is eligible to shop again. This new way of checking in on your neighbor during the worst of times, is an exciting new feature for the church turned food pantry.
NOT A QUICK FIX

Ray Bauers and his wife Marie Riste woke to a living nightmare. Riste was upstairs when the water began rising silently, her phone glowing blue on the bedside table. “Grab what you can!” Bauers screams, breaking into the night.
Riste sees the panic in her husband’s eyes and doesn’t stop to question what or where. She grabbed a small overnight bag, filling it with two pants, two shirts, and her curlers. Hand in hand, they ran through the ankle deep water, picture frames and pillow cushions floating past them. The Bauers drove madly down the empty two lane highway. “Where are we going! Where are we going!” Riste screamed at her husband. “I don’t know what to do!” Bauers shouted back. “It’s the water… I can’t believe they let this happen” Riste said in the quieting car. Riste and Bauers pulled into a roadside hotel outside of town. Kept awake by worsening thoughts, Riste sat on the end of the striped hotel bed with TV on mute. Bauers rested by the phone. It was light when the phone rang again. Bauers’ neighbor had called to say it was “gone.” “What’s gone?” Bauers asked.
“Everything, it looks like Mars out here.”

ITDRC’s tech Kate Norem met the couple weeks later, outside of their auto shop, now hanging off its foundation. The couple emerged from the side garage, covered in smears of dirt.
There are no volunteers in the area, just survivors.
“Are you here to help?” Riste asked.
“Yes ma’am” Norem replied.
The van is unmistakable, as soon as it parks out front, people know exactly what ITDRC provides — communications.
Norem is ushered into the garage and shown a laptop coated grey and the space where the phone used to sit.
“We don’t know what to do next, I was wanting to slow down” says Bauers “This was our retirement, it’s gone and the house is worth nothing.”
Norem glances at the laptop and agrees it’s in bad condition and beyond repair.
“They want us to fill out all this paperwork and print everything, do they not realize what it looks like out here?” says Riste.
Getting in touch with overwhelmed agencies can be a near impossible task in disaster zones. Bauers now faced a similar problem. Rural Michigan has few options for communication; most farmhouses don’t have Internet access because companies won’t string cable for miles just to service one house. Communication is the first thing we all reach for. Fight or flight, we all need to feel connected during a difficult time. There’s an urgentness in the isolation of a disaster zone, which is why ITDRC still responds in the middle of a pandemic — because hurt must be heard before it can be healed.
Norem, smiling beneath her mask knew the solution, “Do you know where Jerome Township is?”
Jerome Township, a few miles down the road from the auto shop was a recently established site, connected by Norem. The township opened a public command center of sorts, where citizens can get online to communicate with friends and family online, and file electronic FEMA and insurance claims.
Despite the challenges of the COVID-19 pandemic, ITDRC is committed to helping in Michigan until the communities stabilize. “I’m close to this one” said Norem as she looked out of the dust brushing her glasses. “I love these people and they need help, so here I am.”
“You know, I wish I could make things better for people right away” said North “We didn’t have sufficient infrastructure to sustain this type of operation, ITDRC did a great job and this is a team effort now.”

