A silver lining in the wake of unrelenting storm woes

Storms mean the kids' game got canceled, the putting greens are too slow, the koi pond spilled onto the patio, the cable is out, curse that lousy sump pump, the basement carpet is ruined, so is the entire basement, so is the car crushed by that tree limb, all our food is going to spoil, sewage is dumped, we still don't have power, a broken traffic signal is nature's way to identify the stupid jerks of this world, and isn't that the governor WADING THROUGH MY YARD AND DECLARING A STATE DISASTER???!!!!

While a storm annoys us with everything from minor inconveniences to major tragedies, it does have one positive side effect.

"It's awesome. Everybody is getting together," says a beaming Lisa Fleming, 29, as she picks up downed tree limbs Friday in her Mount Prospect neighborhood. "Our basement got flooded, but it's really nice because everyone is pitching in."

Power outages fuel a neighborhood's spirit.

"If you look down the street, you can see the extension cords," notes Rick Fleming, Lisa's father. The Flemings' electricity is off, but an extension cord snaking from a house across the street powers the Flemings' refrigerator and the next door neighbor's, too.

"This is not the first time we've had a power cord run across the street," says Rick Fleming, who has seen plenty of that kind of cooperation during his 34 years in the neighborhood.

Today, the Flemings note their problems are minor compared to some. But even small gestures can mean a lot.

"There's an old lady by herself in that house, so I picked up her branches," Lisa Fleming says. Others in the neighborhood perform similar acts of kindness.

"As I was raking lawns, I thought, 'Gee, everybody is so nice here,' " says Lisa Fleming.

The mess gets cleared, and problems get solved quickly.

"I like to rake because you see results," says Lisa Fleming, who starts her job as a 7th-grade science teacher in Milwaukee next week. "It's hard to see that kind of progress when you teach."

In spite of best efforts, the results are much too slow for Rosie Thomas, 61, as she pumps ankle-high water out of her basement along the Fox River in Elgin.

"I've never seen it this high before," says Thomas, who has lived in her Lessenden Place home for 33 years. "I planned to have a family picnic with 100 people here Saturday, and had to cancel it."

Thomas explains how she didn't lose her belongings -- only because she lost them all during the last flood.

Then she giggles as she appreciates the glee with which neighbor boys Damian, 5, and Jose, 2, throw rocks into the approaching floodwaters.

"They enjoy it. They see the fish right here," says Jeymi Maciel, the boys' mom.

"They like the rain, they enjoy the water, but that's the consequence," Maciel says, nodding sadly in the direction of hoses draining another neighbor's flooded basement.

Thomas can't use her flooded driveway, so she drives across her lawn to access the neighbor's drive.

"I've got good neighbors," Thomas says.

Neighbors continue to fill sandbags from Gurnee to Prospect Heights, where the Des Plaines River threatens.

Along the Fox River in St. Charles, Marty Kamysz and Brian Lane use sandbags to barricade the home of a friend who is out of town. The brothers-in-law move an antique car and expensive boating equipment from a first-floor garage.

"I was planning to be on a job today, but that's not happening," says Kamysz, who works in construction. "I figure I might as well help out around here."

Down the street, Penny Gebhardt relies on the strong backs of her three teenage grandchildren to line her backyard with sand bags, as the water creeps under her stilted porch.

"There are so many people in worse shape than we are, so I'm trying to stay calm," Gebhardt says. "It could be worse."

If nature does get worse, chances are that neighbors will turn up their efforts a notch as well.

"That's my favorite thing about being in the suburbs," Lisa Fleming concludes. "Everybody comes together."