Water leaves homelessness, wonder, worry in its wake

Catherine McKinnon awoke yesterday in Lowell to find the swollen Merrimack River raging just below her bedroom window.

''I didn't even have to lift my head off the pillow to see the water," she said, weeping just hours before she was evacuated from her riverfront apartment. ''It's usually 20 feet away."

In towns across the region, fear and wonder gripped those in the flood's path. Rivers suddenly became lakes, roads turned into rivers, and shuttered schools were transformed into shelters. Daily life came under watery siege.

''It's upsetting, but it's all replaceable," said McKinnon, who wrapped her furniture in garbage bags as protection. But the flood was ''kind of beautiful in some way," she said.

The flood's ferocity yesterday became apparent to Linda Comeau of the US Geological Survey, as she watched her floating Doppler radar unit ripped apart by the swirling waters of the Merrimack.

''It's serious water," she said, adding that the river, at 58 feet, was nearing record levels.

Ray Brouck, 78, of Methuen lived through the Great Flood of 1936 as a boy and said that yesterday's flooding was nearly as dramatic.

''Except that great flood, I've never seen anything this bad," he said.

For his neighbor, Lisa Crawford, 30, the flood's power was made clear after a knock on the door early yesterday morning: Firefighters ordered her to evacuate.

''We totally knew it was bad, but I thought we could sit it out," she said.

On Elm Street in North Reading, Anne Foley and her neighbors shoveled sand into plastic garbage bags, stacking 120 of them around the concrete foundation of her house by yesterday afternoon. Foley has lived in the house for the past 14 years and had never seen a major flood so close to her doorstep.

''I'm praying," the preschool teacher said.

While some fled the flooding, others flocked to it, with crowds of gawkers lining the Merrimack from Lawrence to Lowell, snapping photos. In Andover, geese waddled around downtown, sounding distressed honks as their nests washed away.

In downtown Peabody, families traipsed down Lowell Street staring at the 4-foot waters that splashed over Peabody Square. With school canceled, some teenagers frolicked in the water, while others sloshed through a newly created gully.

''It's not shocking to Peabodyites," said Joyce Nocella, who lives near the square and has played in flood water over the years. Yesterday, she watched her 11-year-old daughter carry on the tradition.

Nearby, 12-year-old Valentina Severino said the challenge of walking through waist-high flood water was too inviting to pass up.

''My feet are kind of numb," she said, pointing to her soaked sneakers. ''It feels like I'm dragging someone."

In North Reading, a group of teenagers transformed the town green into a water park, using boogie boards to surf hip-deep water.

''No school" said Nick Rocco, 17, a North Reading High Junior. ''We have to do something."

The flood produced an occasional moment of absurdity. At a hastily organized Red Cross shelter at Methuen High School, a donated delivery from Applebee's restaurant of 50 hamburgers and chicken platters arrived around noon to a lunchtime crowd of five.

''We're very grateful for the donations, but there's no one to eat it," said shelter coordinator Shannon McGrath.

For those directly in the flood's path, looming financial losses filled their day with worry. Laura McKeller, owner of a Curves health club in North Andover, hauled exercise machinery into a U-Haul truck yesterday afternoon to keep it away from rising water.

''The town was telling us last night they would put out a dirt barrier overnight," she said. ''But when we came back this morning, the water had overrun the dirt barrier."

At Family Service of Greater Lawrence, a social services office, waters lapped at the building as staff members scurried to move files to the top floor.

A sense of helplessness pervaded their day.

''There is just nothing to do about it," said operations manager John Zielin. ''We just have to wait for the water to come in. And we have to clean it up."

In Saugus, Thomas Gaines expressed a similar sentiment. He watched from his house, perched on a ridge, as low-lying neighbors fled the waters.

''You never know with Mother Nature," he said. ''We're hoping and praying for the best. That's all we can do."

Beyond the Bay State, the flood's effects were felt acutely in New Hampshire and Maine.

In Kennebunk, Maine, Yetta Chin and her family fled their submerged one-story house Sunday, then contemplated the sudden shift in their fortunes.

''We were just an average American family thinking about maybe a summer vacation this year, and now we're homeless," she said from the fire station, where her family took refuge. ''We take turns crying, and we take turns trying to bolster each other."

For Deb Gaudette of Goffstown, N.H., where her family and nearly 50 others were evacuated Sunday, the flood made for an illuminating Mother's Day

''I have my kids; that's all I need," she said.

John R. Ellement and Steven A. Rosenberg of the Globe staff and Globe correspondent Caroline Louise Cole contributed to this report. Material from the Associated Press was also used.