Assigned to the Disaster Relief Housing Mission, as part of the disaster cadre with the business consortium of Dewberry and Parsons, following the spring flooding of 2011, I’ve witnessed utter devastation to the homes, families, businesses, and lifestyles of the region's residents. I’ve also been rewarded by witnessing the remarkable fortitude, strength, and resiliency of the hearty Northern Plains people.

I was called upon to perform quality control inspections, and to verify the completion of items that were essential to safe and secure installations of the temporary disaster housing. One such inspection required me to verify the installation of a wheelchair accessible "UFAS" ramp entrance at a relief housing residence in close proximity to the banks of the Souris River—the major waterway that brought about the massive destruction.

Early one afternoon, I greeted a gentleman—one of the residents—and explained to him the reason for my visit. The man simply looked at me with sad eyes, then broke down into fitful tears and said that his mother—the woman who required the use of the handicap ramp—had passed away at 9:45 that morning. He was so overcome by sorrow that he fell into me and hugged me. We stood on the ramp for a few treasured minutes as he expressed his love and gratitude for his mother—with me, a total stranger.

He told me about the adjacent home where his mother had lived for most of her life—where he and his children were born—that now lay in a state of dilapidation. He explained to me that in her elder years, when she had to be carried up the steps into her home, it had bruised her pride and dignity. His dream before the destructive flood was to build his mother a ramp into their home, much like the one that was built for her here. He told me about the radiant smile on his mother's face every time she was wheeled up this ramp into her temporary home—not having to be carried. The ramp had been complete only a few short days ago, but the way he told the story made it seem like it had felt like years to them.

A few days later while shopping in a local grocery store, the man recognized me and gave me a strong hug. He said only two words that were meant for each and every person who have helped these people through this time of extreme hardship, coupled with an appreciative look in his eyes that I will never forget: 'Thank you.'