Last year's disastrous flood tested us. As breakup looms again, Hay River is stronger than ever

This First Person article is the experience of Rhiannon Kuzmin, who lives in Hay River, N.W.T., and experienced the flooding of May 2022. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.

I was on a flight back home to Hay River recently and was listening to the soundtrack from the Broadway musical "Come From Away." If you're not familiar, it's a highly acclaimed musical inspired by the true events that occurred on 9/11 in the town of Gander, N. L. Now, I'm a nervous flyer so I found myself also leafing through the "Spectacular Northwest Territories Travel Guide" tucked into the seat in front of me as I listened. 

The opening number is called "Welcome to the Rock" and it introduces us to the small town of Gander and sets the scene for that fateful day. As I turned the pages of the travel guide and flipped through the photos of The Fisherman's Wharf and Alexandra Falls, I had an epiphany — an "aha" moment — and I was brought to tears. 

There is a dramatic interlude about halfway through the song that is as follows:

Welcome to the land where the winters tried to kill us and we said we will not be killed.

Welcome to the land where the waters tried to drown us and we said we will not be drowned.

Welcome to the land where we lost our loved ones and we said we will still go on.

Welcome to the land where the winds tried to blow and we said no.

This resilience, this tenacity, this unwavering strength in a crisis … Hay River, this is us. While I am not at all comparing the atrocities of Sept. 11, 2001 to the events of the flood of 2022, I can't help but see the similarities in this town's reaction to that and think of Hay River. 

When the emergency alert went off at midnight, I scooped my daughter up from her bed in the middle of the night and left our home with my husband, daughter and dog in tow. 

Because of my job with the local health and social services authority, I was involved with registration services for evacuees. As my co-workers and I worked late night shifts at the emergency evacuation shelter set up at our local rec centre, memories from my childhood resurfaced. I grew up in Winnipeg, and was a child during the flood of 1997. I remember the conversations with my Dad about where we would go and what we would do if the water crested the banks. Now here I was, in a completely different part of the country nearly twenty five years later experiencing the same flurry of emotions. Only this time, when that emergency alert went off, I was the parent.

Thankfully, we were able to evacuate to our good friends' house and eventually, return to our home which had remained completely unscathed. We were so incredibly lucky but unfortunately, so many in our little town were not. 

We were tested and in many ways, we were broken. But through it all, we persevered. We didn't give up and we didn't lose hope. We came together amazingly and worked as a whole. Be it checking on the homes of others who had already left. Be it physically helping those trapped escaping the rising waters. Be it staying behind and making sure that those who needed to leave made it on that bus, that van, etc. to safety. Be it opening our homes to others in need. The examples of selflessness, of generosity and of unbridled kindness during that time from the people of our town are far too many to name. This town suffered a terrible, life-changing event and we came out of it stronger than ever. 

As breakup approaches and the one-year anniversary of that time draws near, I know that as a town, it is on our minds. I know that the anxiety, the worry and the growing panic is palpable. And while I don't pretend to know what is going to happen, I am personally finding comfort in the strength of our town that I have witnessed time and time again. It's been a year and we are still here. We are still a town that I am proud to be a part of. A town I was not born into but that I am proud to call home.