A woman at the drop-off point with a foreign accent was literally sobbing and on her knees, begging us to take her back into her flooded home. She said she needed to get her immigration papers. I had to say no, it was just too dangerous. That moment weighed on me for days after. A few weeks passed, and I saw her again. She said she had gotten back into her home and found all of her immigration papers.

Mick Langguth, 50, Tiffin, fire captain at Cedar Rapids Fire Station 8

I remember everybody working together and sandbagging. I know a couple of days after working 12-hour shifts, me and some of my friends would come down and sandbag with everybody, working together to help save everything. I definitely remember going down to Coralville and smelling the stench there; it was horrible. I have some friends who lived at Coralville at the time and were displaced.

Alexcia James, 23, Coralville, registered nurse at  UI Hospitals and Clinics

I think about total chaos, streets being closed, people losing their homes, and all in all just a bad situation for the area. I was part of the cleanup crew that helped sandbag for the university and Coralville, and it was a ton of work. It was devastating to watch people who lost their homes and how slow they are getting funding to rebuild.

Stephen Hayes, 25, Iowa City, bus driver for the Coralville Transit system

My strongest memory is Thursday, June 12. After sleeping a couple of hours, I woke up and checked the basement, yard and streets. I even looked down the sewer. Everything was OK. By 5:50 a.m., water was in the street, in our backyard and coming in through the sewer. I remember seeing my husband cry and how hard it was for me when they came and picked up all our possessions from the street, especially the grandkids’ toys. It was a small home, but it had a lot of big memories.

Char Wink, 60, Marion, formerly of Cedar Rapids, retired from Rockwell Collins

In my neighborhood, I saw people as young as preteens to seniors help with sandbagging efforts. I sandbagged with members of the Regina baseball team. I found out they would be participating in a tournament that weekend. They could have taken it easy and relaxed - and not placed themselves in a position to injure themselves. Even those still not yet back in their homes can appreciate and celebrate the human spirit at its very best.

Thomas Sass, 57, Iowa City, employee at Pearson

One of the many memories I have is that when we finally were able to enter the family home of 61 years, the piano was ruined. My mother, Zula Oujiri, purchased it when she went off to Coe College in 1936. It had been in our living room since 1947. My siblings and I learned to play that piano, and it also was used by all the Oujiri grandsons.

Virginia Wilts, 55, Cedar Rapids, Guaranty Bank branch officer

I remember finally being allowed to see (my parents’) home. The destruction and smell were unimaginable - indescribable! It looked as though someone had filled the house with muddy water almost to the ceiling on the first floor, then shook it violently and let the water run out slowly.

Patty Nelson Koch, 64, Oklahoma City, formerly of Cedar Rapids, retired office manager

Frank Satarinio, Cedar Rapids: I am a Captain with the Cedar Rapids Fire Department and work out of the B Ave. NE station, Fire Station #3. The morning of the 13th, I was assigned as a logistics officer and relocated to a command post we were in the process of setting up on 1st Avenue W at 11th Street.  The water level at this time had reached just west of 10th St.

I was to work with an Acting Chief and another Firefighter in coordinating boats and manpower for rescue operations.

Sometime before noon, I was approached by a woman who told me she lived on the south side of 1st Ave. just west of our location.

She explained to me that she belonged to an organization that shared a common bond: the love of animals.

She told me that if there was anything she or her friends could do to help, in any way, I shouldn’t hesitate to call.  She left me her name and a cell phone number.

Within hours, the number of pets that were being retrieved via boat had increased dramatically.  (I remember at times wondering if the scene surrounding Noah’s Ark could of resembled this in any way!)

We were approached by one of the boat teams that suggested acquiring some leashes and collars that would make their job easier.

I told them I might know just how to go about getting those items.

I found the piece of paper that I written the name and number on.  I called and she answered.  I asked her if she meant what she’d told me earlier (about offering to help) and explained to her the request that was being made.  She told me she’d make some calls and see what she could do.

Within an hour or two, the woman showed up with boxes of collars and leases. She was like St. Francis of Assisi incarnate.

Throughout the remainder of the day and late into the evening, this woman and her friends continued to monitor the needs that our ever growing population of rescued animals would need which included cages of all shapes and sizes.

The woman and her friends made a difference for the animals that were rescued from their flooded homes by providing unsolicited assistance out of the kindness (and pocket books) of their hearts!

Unfortunately, I lost her name and number and have not had the opportunity to tell her (them) how TRULY GRATEFUL  I (and the department), as well as the community, was, for all they did on that day, the 13th of June, 2008.

Shari Buell, Iowa City: The flood of 2008 was the second flood experience for me. As a Clinton High School senior, we were let out of school to help sandbag in May 1965 the flooding Mississippi.

Fast forward to the flood of 2008, Iowa City. Not much had changed. Sandbagging is sandbagging.

The one change of course, is the body, and the age. One hot day, I stayed “too long at the fair” and was suffering heat exhaustion, so made a trip to the ER for treatment. As my old high school chum reminded me that day, we are senior citizens NOT high school seniors!

The commonality of purpose, often lacking in this town of extreme diversity came through in June 2008.

Dawn Richmond, Fairfax: Mom and Dave lived a block off Ellis Blvd. She had just returned home from a long stay in a nursing home for some rehab. It was raining, intermittently at first, and then more steadily. The food was out, and several things that we thought we might need at my house were packed into my car. Just as we were leaving, I stood in front of her house at the curb. I looked down both ways of Sixth Street NW - the water was coming. I knew because just an hour previous, there were no puddles at the intersections. It was weird. I remember walking down toward one of them, and noticed that there was a very gentle stream of water coming down the street; almost as if to meet the puddle in the opposite intersection. I walked the other way and saw that it was coming from the other way as well. I stood there, directly in front of mom’s house, waiting for them to meet.

When they met, we left.

Cheri Huber, Washington: One of my strongest memories of the flooding occurred a few days after the crest.  I was driving into Cedar Rapids from the south.  There wasn’t any power and downtown Cedar Rapids was very dark. Quaker Oats had managed to light their red neon sign on top of their building.  I imagine it wasn’t on for very long, but it was definitely a beacon of hope shining over a dark city.

Sue Dvorak, Guttenberg: My brother, Randy Brannaman, farms the family farms.  One of them is located south of Sutliff and was affected by the flood.  I remember Randy calling us on Wednesday morning around 9, asking for help to move his belongings to the upstairs of the farmhouse.  We arrived around 11 and started relocating the items on the first floor to the second floor.  Some of it we moved to countertops and shelves on the first floor, never dreaming that the Cedar would get that high.  Actually, we felt this was just being precautionary, as we did not believe that the water would really get into the house.  My brother and many of his friends were busy moving cattle, hay, and machinery to higher ground.

On Thursday, the hay, machinery and cattle had to be moved again as the water was rising.  Later that afternoon, the bridges were closed and my brother was on one side of the river and my parents, Don and Rita Brannaman, and I were on the other side.  That evening, my brother was in the process of moving his cattle one more time to higher ground.  The cattle were moving in the right direction, when the lead cow decided to head back to the flooded barn.  Many of his cattle and calves were swept downriver in the current.  Out of the 400-acre farm, only 2 1/2 acres were NOT flooded.  To make things worse, the next day on Friday the 13th, one span of the Historic Sutliff Bridge was lost to the flood.

We are still recovering from the flood.  The farmhouse that had been in our family for over 80 years was destroyed, along with my brothers’ belongings that were left on the counters and shelves.  The water rose to 6 feet inside the house.   Fences were damaged and need to be replaced.  My brother’s crops were wiped out last year, and his surviving cattle were affected by the stress of the flood.  They were weakened and had difficulties with calving this spring.   Fields and the barnyard needed to be cleaned of the debris.  The recovery process is slow and the costs are overwhelming.  We are thankful for the help and support of our families, neighbors and friends.

The Rev. Kathleen Moore, Cedar Rapids: We never imagined.  Our church desperately wanted to help as the waters rose, so we opened a flood shelter for persons refusing to evacuate without their pets.  They could bring pets and stay at New Creation UMC. And they began to come- frightened, broken, despairing, among the poorest, with no relatives or friends to take them in, no money for motels, often no transportation, with mental illness, drug/alcohol addictions, with nowhere else to go.  For 2-3 days?  No, four weeks and four days later, we had become a real community, caring for each other in the midst of crisis.

Don and Carol Vest, Cedar Rapids: The floodwaters had just peaked on J Street SW at about 19^th and ½ Avenue.  Already the waters had retreated about 6 feet down the street.  A vehicle with a boat on trailer was being maneuvered in the narrow confines of the street in order to launch the boat into the floodwater.  Eventually the boat was launched, but the motor wouldn’t start.  A bystander had overheard something about rescuing a cat.  The cat would need later rescue.  After considerable effort, they gave up on the motor, backed the trailer into the water, loaded the boat and left the scene.

Diane Stanek, Cedar Rapids: Aside from the financial loss (the importance of that faded away pretty quickly) and the intense physical labor (which lasted for months), the largest impact was the emotional impact.  And not so much for ourselves, but for others, our parents, and neighbors, and the town.  It was hard knowing and seeing others that needed help, but you couldn’t help them because you had already been spread too thin with your own recovery efforts.  The exhaustion and exasperation would intensify every time you looked at the faces of people experiencing the same things.  In between the bouts of grief, anguish, and helplessness, the experience of true humanity and compassion would overwhelm you when took a moment to look around and see all the friends, family, and even total strangers lending a hand.  To this day, thinking about those people still brings up strong feelings and emotions. If anything has come from the experience of this flood, it is the knowledge that the best quality in any human being, is to give.

Although it took months and months to get “things” back to normal, like homes, furniture, and other possessions, there are a few things that will never change back.  Relationships are now much more important.  Community service has become more important.  Sacrificing for those who need it more has become more important.  We’ve all sat through the lessons in school or church about the golden rule, but the flood presented this material in a very intense and real way.  It is now an easy decision to pick up a shovel, a hammer, a crowbar, or to offer a hand when another person is in need.  And even though it may be hard to see sometimes, there are a lot of great peopleout there that live by that golden rule.

Terri Mengler, Cedar Rapids: One year ago, I was at work when KCRG read the rising Cedar River levels. About 2:30 I realized that the river level was going over  22ft which is the top of the levee down the street of my Czech Village home. I asked to leave but working in the NICU there wasn’t a replacement for me. The last 4 hours of my shift were nerve-wracking, knowing I couldn’t get there to save anything. I sent my friends and family to start hauling out what they could. When I arrived the basement was empty and many things were loaded onto a truck. They told me as we worked to get things up off the main floor that the neighbors were sitting outside in lawn chairs wondering why they were moving so many things. I chose to stay in my own bed one more night in a partially empty house. I went to bed and was woke at 3 a.m. by firefighters pounding on the door, telling me to evacuate now. I put a bag in the car, gathered my two cats and fled  to my sister’s in Alburnett. The next day my street was flooding, but people could still get in. June 12 is when the river overtook my home, filling it to 9.5 feet on the main floor while collapsing the foundation. It is a lost cause and will be torn down. I have moved into a cute house on the east side where I grew up. I pay 2 mortgages but I can make it until the buyout.

What Twitter users have to say about the flood:

@johnsonliz: It helped me realize that mold is foul, that water can be scary, and that things - though wonderful - are only things.

@Mia_Ria: Made me realize how resilient people (and especially Iowans) are. Was there when many saw their homes/businesses for 1st time and they didn’t sit and cry. They wanted to get to work. It was neat to see.

@BryanForbes: I’ve tried to be more aware of the needs of people around me and do something about it since the flood

Staff members remember the flood:

Richard Pratt: Frankly, most of my memories are vague - long hours in a sweltering office, frantically posting every story and photo we could get our hands on, negotiating at National Guard checkpoints to be able to get to work, coolers full of beverages and meals on the go, served in conference rooms. Much of it went by in a blur.

But the boat tour I took Saturday, June 14 - THAT is a vivid, indelible memory. I was boating down First Avenue West, then past the old Clark station, Cooper’s Mill, the main fire station, Norwood Souvenir, Swiss Valley, and so many other places where I’d been driving weeks earlier. That was my wake-up call. The sounds. The smells. The sights. In the midst of all the chaos, it finally sank in that Cedar Rapids, my hometown, would truly never quite be the same again.

I don’t know if I believed that it would all just go away, and things would magically return to normal. If I believed that, I was unquestionably delusional. But seeing the water up close - that made it so much more real. I’m convinced that’s why everyone wanted to come downtown on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, despite the official warnings to stay away. It seems less real if you’re not experiencing it firsthand.

Mary Sharp: The memory I’ll have with me forever involves driving to work on Thursday, June 12. I had to show my work ID to get around the police barriers.  As I topped the rise on Second Avenue SE and looked over the downtown, I saw an immense gray lake, one with dark, marooned buildings against an overcast gray sky, a river that was where it could not possibly be. It was one of those time-stopping moments.

Jill Hinke: I live just up the hill on O Ave. NW. Thursday morning I wanted to go check on Suzanne Barnes’ house on  8^th St. NW. When I walked to the top of O and looked down the hill, water was already to 9^th St. and coming towards 10^th St. Suzanne’s  house was already covered to the bottom of the windows. I was horrified. I walked through Ellis Golf Course to get a better view of the river and watched the Ellis Swimming Pool fill with river water. On the way back home, a deluge of rain fell. It just wouldn’t quit. Further west on O Ave by 26^th St was closed momentarily due to flash flooding coming from the hilled streets to the north.

It took 50 minutes to get to the Gazette Friday morning; a trip that normally took me 7 minutes. The sound of the generators at the Gazette was almost comforting after so many days of hearing them. Doing work by lamplight and flashlight was very memorable. Who could forget the porta potties?