Latest news with #Storms
Filipino Times
6 days ago
- Business
- Filipino Times
Pag-IBIG Fund offers housing loan moratorium in calamity-hit areas, heeds President Marcos' call to extend assistance
Pag-IBIG Fund has offered a one-month moratorium on housing loan payments to assist members affected by Severe Tropical Storms Crising, Dante, Emong and the Southwest Monsoon, as part of its continuing response to President Ferdinand R. Marcos Jr.'s call to deliver swift and responsive relief to calamity-stricken members. Pag-IBIG Housing Loan borrowers residing or working in areas officially declared under a state of calamity — including Manila, Quezon City, Cebu City, Marikina City, Malabon City, Dagupan City, the province of Cavite, Calumpit in Bulacan, Sebaste and Barbaza in Antique, Calasiao and Umingan in Pangasinan, and Cainta in Rizal — may apply for the moratorium to help ease their financial burdens and redirect their resources toward urgent recovery needs. Additional areas that may be declared under a state of calamity in the coming days will also be covered. 'Pag-IBIG Fund stands in full support of President Marcos' directive to extend immediate assistance to our fellow Filipinos affected by Typhoons Crising, Dante and Emong and the heavy monsoon rains,' said Secretary Jose Ramon P. Aliling, head of the Department of Human Settlements and Urban Development and chairperson of the 11-member Pag-IBIG Fund Board of Trustees. 'This one-month moratorium on housing loan payments reflects our commitment to compassionate governance and our determination to help affected members rebuild their lives during these difficult times.' Under Pag-IBIG Fund's One-Month Housing Loan Payment Moratorium, qualified borrowers will have their monthly amortizations or installment payments temporarily suspended for one month, without incurring penalties or additional interest. Loan terms will be extended accordingly, with all other conditions, including interest rates, remaining unchanged. Eligible housing loan borrowers may file their applications until August 24, 2025, either online through the agency's Virtual Pag-IBIG platform or by visiting any Pag-IBIG Fund branch. No processing fee will be charged. This follows the agency's earlier announcement that its Calamity Loan Program is now open for members in areas declared under a state of calamity, and that Housing Loan Insurance claims are available for borrowers with damaged homes financed through Pag-IBIG Fund.
CNN
7 days ago
- Climate
- CNN
Where the next deadly flood wave could strike
Hurricanes Storms Federal agencies FacebookTweetLink The flash flood that struck the Guadalupe River the early morning hours of July 4 was swift and merciless. A wall of water tore through Texas Hill Country communities, killing more than 130 people. It only took two hours for the flood wave to sweep away campsites, cars and homes, and throw hundreds of families' lives into chaos and grief. The ingredients that led to the Hill Country disaster — steep terrain, swollen rivers and unsuspecting people in harm's way — are not unique to Texas. Across the United States, there are pockets of vulnerability where geography, weather and human nature converge in ways that heighten the risk of flash flooding. Some of these dangers are well-known: canyons and valleys that funnel water into narrow channels, rivers and streams with long histories of overtopping their banks. But others are less obvious — places where people flock for fun and time away from their urban lives, unaware that the same features that make these spots so inviting will also make them deadly in the right storm. To better understand where such disasters could happen next, CNN partnered with First Street, a research organization that specializes in climate risk data, to identify some of the places where vulnerability to sudden, destructive flash floods remains high — and often overlooked. Our analysis does not include all places that could experience something like what Kerr County, Texas, endured in early July. But you can use the interactive map below to explore the river locations most prone to flash flooding, according to a recent study. Helen, Georgia, is an unexpected glimpse of Bavaria. Tucked into the folds of the North Georgia mountains, the Alpine-themed tourist spot cradles the Chattahoochee River. On a hot and humid summer day, few places are more inviting than the cool river, where visitors can float past beer gardens and candy shops in brightly colored inner tubes. While ''tubing the 'hooch,' which on most days trickles through the town at walking pace, it's hard to imagine how just a few inches of rain can turn the same waterway into a roaring torrent in a flash. But the geography that lends the area its charm also carries a quiet threat. 'Helen is located at the base of some of the higher mountains' in Georgia, National Weather Service senior hydrologist Laura Belanger told CNN while standing next to the flood gauge on Main Street. 'This is the same river that runs through Atlanta and all the way down into Columbus and along that Alabama border — it has a long journey, and it starts here.' The Upper Chattahoochee winds through the rainiest counties in Georgia, and the head start comes with consequences. The region's topography and clay-based soil leave little opportunity for water to soak into the ground, she said. 'Instead, it runs off and can flow very quickly into our river systems.' Helen has flooded before, most recently in the remnants of Hurricane Helene, which raised the river's water level by 3 to 6 feet. That pales in comparison to the record flood of 1967, triggered by more than 8 inches of rain falling in 24 hours, causing the Chattahoochee to rise 12 feet. Since then, Helen has transformed from a deserted logging town into the 'Bavaria of the South,' with riverbanks filled with shops, restaurants and cabins — all vulnerable to the next major flood. A flood as big as 1967's today would likely submerge homes and motels, cut off roads and inundate much of the town's infrastructure in 2 to 4 feet of water, according to guidance from the National Weather Service. The stylistic arched bridges built to match the European theme would act as dams in a flood, backing up water and worsening erosion. 'The safety of our citizens and the thousands of visitors who enjoy outdoor activities in and around Helen is our highest priority,' said a spokesperson for White County Public Safety, which is in 'early stages' of enhancing its severe weather warning systems. 'While flooding along the Chattahoochee River is certainly a concern, equally serious threats include lightning, high winds, and other rapidly changing weather conditions that can impact a wide range of outdoor activities — not just river recreation,' the spokesperson said. Belanger is particularly worried about a community on the Hiwassee River, north of Helen, where permanent residential trailers sit near a river gauge that a recent study found was among the most-prone to flash flooding in the country. Regardless of a community's readiness, that many people living that close to a river is a recipe for disaster, Belanger said. 'Those are the places that keep me up at night.' The Nogales Wash originates in the hilly city of Nogales in Sonora, Mexico, then slices a path north through the desert landscape and across the border to its sister city of Nogales, Arizona. The drainage channel, built in the 1930s, lies bone dry for most of the year. It is called into service when the summer monsoon hits. 'These storms are flashy; they drop a lot of water in a very short period of time,' said Allan Sanchez, a floodplain coordinator for Santa Cruz County. It's not uncommon to see the region pummeled by 2.5 inches of rain an hour, he added. A storm like that can overwhelm the wash. Water in the mostly concrete-lined section that runs through Nogales, Arizona, quickly turns from a benign trickle to a dangerous, gushing torrent as rain sweeps down the hills. Flood risk is exacerbated by the area's geography and aging infrastructure. Like many other towns at risk, most of Nogales was built on a floodplain because that was the flattest spot, Sanchez said. The city's population has also swollen over the decades, meaning more roads, houses, roofs and driveways — hard surfaces unable to absorb the rainfall. The problem is complicated by the fact that beneath the Nogales Wash lies a sewage pipeline carrying millions of gallons of untreated waste from Sonora to a treatment plant in Arizona. 'When that thing overtops, then you also have the risk of contamination,' Sanchez said. During monsoon thunderstorms in 2017, floodwaters damaged the pipe, causing raw sewage to pour into the Nogales Wash, prompting the city to declare a state of emergency. High levels of development and the growth of informal communities in the floodplain on the Sonora side puts people in harm's way. The Nogales area is not only a hub for cross-border trade but is one of the busiest spots for illegal border crossings. 'Right where they're crossing is where some of the water is,' Sanchez said. 'Everybody on both sides (of the border) understands the severity of the rainstorms that we get here,' Sanchez said. 'We're all always kind of half an eye to the sky.' He has noticed the storms have become more intense in recent years. Instead of one or two in monsoon season, last year brought multiple powerful storms unleashing large amounts of rainfall in very localized areas, Sanchez said. It's 'something that I wasn't used to seeing, and I've been doing this for 30 years.' It's easy to forget the danger in Santa Barbara County. The sun-drenched coastline, Spanish style architecture and warm, Mediterranean climate offer the illusion of calm. But just behind the serene facade is a landscape built for disaster. Steep terrain, torrential wintertime storms and wildfires combine to put the Santa Barbara coastal watershed at high risk of flash flooding and mudslides, as rainfall screams down canyons carved into the Santa Ynez Mountains. The threat is growing as atmospheric rivers —intense plumes of moisture — coming in off the Pacific Ocean get stronger and wetter. 'We have a long history of flash flooding and debris flows,' and the terrain makes everything worse, said Kelly Hubbard, director of the county's Office of Emergency Management. The mountain slopes tend to erode when saturated, especially after wildfires, resulting in potentially deadly debris flows. Just weeks after the Thomas Fire tore through the hills above Montecito, an intense winter storm dumped several inches of rain in January 2018. The fire-scarred hillsides couldn't withstand the deluge. A wall of mud, boulders and debris thundered through the town as people slept. Twenty-three people were killed and more than 100 homes were destroyed. As the city expands further into the foothills, the risk to residents grows. 'It tends to increase the vulnerability of people in homes when you start building right up against the hills,' said Jayme Laber, a hydrologist with the National Weather Service in Los Angeles. 'There's only so much flat land you can build on,' Laber said. The area where neighborhoods press up against forests, brush and open terrain — known as the wildland-urban interface — is becoming more prominent in Santa Barbara. It was also a major factor in the destruction wrought by the Los Angeles fires in January. 'You get that increased flood risk and events that come out of the hills directed right towards those homes, buildings, and all that infrastructure that's built right there,' he said. Santa Barbara County uses a patchwork of overlapping tools to warn people of danger: helicopter flyovers; emergency texts and calls; police cars that broadcast special tones, different from a typical siren, that tells residents to sit up and pay attention. Mobile sirens are best here, Hubbard said, since stationary sirens on poles can burn down in a wildfire. There are 6,675 properties at risk of flooding in the next 30 years in Santa Barbara, according to research by First Street; 1,227 in Montecito; 1,970 in Carpinteria. But what keeps Hubbard up at night are the risks she doesn't know yet, like in 2023 when the county 'saw flooding in places we've never seen flooding before, and it took us a little bit by surprise.' 'What scares me the most is how it continues to change,' Hubbard said. 'It's really for something that for hundreds of years has been rather predictable. It's becoming unpredictable.' The picturesque Catskill Mountains, north of New York City, are lush with rolling hills and winding streams. But the scenery belies significant flood vulnerabilities. One such risky region is in Delaware County and stretches from around Margaretville to Pine Hill. The small community of Fleischmanns, population of about 230, has an 'extreme' risk of flooding, according to First Street's modeling. Fleischmanns is vulnerable to river flooding and inundation from excessive precipitation, which is worsening as the climate continues to warm. Tropical Storm Irene brought severe flooding to the region in August 2011. Delaware County ranks highest of any county in the state for federal disaster declarations since 1954, according to Steve Hood, director of emergency management for the county. The majority of those declarations were for flooding, and a recent assessment of the threats the county faces put flooding at the top of the list, he said. Hood told CNN many flash floods there don't get into population centers as the region is sparsely populated, with river flooding constituting a somewhat bigger threat for the villages and towns. The county lacks a siren system after a request to fully fund one hit a dead end in 2015, Hood said. That system would have warned areas downstream of two reservoirs; instead, officials rely on New York Alert, which is a state-run notification system, and reverse 911 to warn citizens of impending floodwaters, Hood said. Tim Brewster, a hydrologist at the National Weather Service in Binghamton, New York, said Delaware County is a major flash flood hot spot within its forecast area — and terrain is the key factor. 'It's got really steep slopes and fast-draining, small river basins,' he said, which can lead to flash flooding from slow-moving thunderstorms, for example. Forecasters are mindful of the significant influx of people during the summer who come to the county to escape the heat in the big cities along the East Coast, Brewster said, adding there are many summer camps located throughout the region. This gives it a similarity to Texas Hill Country. 'We definitely have to have a heightened sense of awareness of that population influx,' he said. The Yadkin River and its tributaries in northwest North Carolina — surrounded by forests and dotted with vineyards — are no strangers to flash floods. But even the damage wrought by Hurricane Helene last year pales in comparison to the history of flooding in this scenic stretch of foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Elkin sits at the confluence of the Big Elkin Creek and the Yadkin River, which winds more than 200 miles through the state to the Atlantic Coast. The town is prone to intense storms, as warm, moist air from the Atlantic is drawn into the higher terrain, which can supercharge impacts. Steep-sided, narrow valleys funnel rain into the waterways below, causing them to rapidly swell and overflow. When Hurricane Helene carved its 500-mile path of destruction from Florida to the Southern Appalachians in September 2024, Elkin and its neighboring towns — Wilkesboro, Ronda, Jonesville — were in its way. Elkin was spared the deadly destruction wrought in other parts of the state, but the Yadkin River rose 22 feet, inundating homes and businesses, leaving roads underwater and swamping pickleball courts. It took Jim Neese a week to clean up his campground, Riverwalk RV Park, nestled along the river, after Helene left it swimming in a muddy swirl of floodwater. Floods are a part of life here, he told CNN. 'Anytime you get bad weather, you think about it.' They do tend to be foreseeable, he added: 'You see it coming and you know (the river is) rising… We keep an eye on everything. I watch three or four different apps.' Vigilance is important; the town is vulnerable to much more catastrophic flooding. Elkin was one of the many areas affected when a one-two punch of tropical cyclones led to a devastating flood in 1916. Then in 1940, the Yadkin River reached 37.5 feet, its highest crest on record, when the remnants of a hurricane pummeled parts of the river basin with more than 8 inches of rain, causing extensive damage to the town. The Yadkin River is better protected today, in part due to the W. Kerr Scott dam, built in 1962 just upstream from Wilkesboro by the US Army Corps of Engineers, said Nick Fillo, a hydrologist with the National Weather Service in Blacksburg, Virginia. It absorbs a lot of the runoff and holds back water, he told CNN. 'In order to see another flood like we saw in 1940 or 1916 we would need much, much more rain.' For now, people in this tight-knit community feel prepared for the flooding that punctuates their lives. But Helene has shown they cannot be complacent. 'When we see something coming, it is a concern,' said Brent Cornelison, Elkin's town manager. 'And after Helene, it will be a much larger concern.' Freedman reported from Washington, DC. O'Kruk reported from New York. Ory reported from Atlanta. Paddison reported from London. Miller and Weir reported from Helen, Georgia. Angela Fritz contributed reporting from Washington, DC.
Yahoo
23-07-2025
- Climate
- Yahoo
Homeless non-profit sees increase in people needing help
Leaders with one organization called the Homeless Empowerment Program said they are still seeing an increase in the number of people needing help every month since last year's storms. Solve the daily Crossword
France 24
21-07-2025
- Politics
- France 24
D-Day veteran and TikTok star 'Papa Jake' Larson dies at 102
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CNN
18-07-2025
- General
- CNN
A girl's death in Texas floods is her family's third loss this year. 3 mementos she left help her mom cope
Storms HurricanesFacebookTweetLink Follow The last time Lindsey McLeod McCrory saw her daughter Blakely alive, the young girl was heading to camp wearing a simple yet profound necklace – one that would later reconnect Blakely to her mother after she died. It was a green-and-white beaded Camp Mystic necklace – a tribute to the legendary Christian girls' camp in the foothills of Texas' Hill Country where Blakely was going. It's the same camp her mother and other women in the family had attended and forged lifelong memories. 'I gave this necklace to my daughter right before camp, and I advised her that if she didn't want to lose it – because she's 8 years old, and of course, they lose jewelry – I told her to wear it … during the whole time at camp,' McCrory told CNN on Friday. Blakely's new necklace served as a reminder of her mother's support at a time of immense loss. Blakely's father died from cancer in March. And just last month, she lost her uncle to illness. But Camp Mystic was a haven where Blakely's grief gave way to joy. 'She was so excited, and it came at such a good time since she lost her daddy,' McCrory said. 'It was a way for her to just heal with that sisterhood and her faith and just all of the fun activities.' Everything changed in the pre-dawn hours of July 4, when torrential rainfall and catastrophic flooding ripped through central Texas – claiming at least 135 lives, many near the Guadalupe River. At Camp Mystic, the cabins with the youngest campers were closest to the river. Blakely, along with 26 other Camp Mystic girls and counselors, perished in the deluge – forcing her family to endure yet another unfathomable tragedy. Despite the anguish, McCrory has found solace – thanks in part to letters that she received from Blakely after she died. Even though Blakely was a new camper in a cabin full of strangers, she didn't seem nervous about going to camp. 'She loves the outdoors. She loves to fish, horseback ride,' her mother said. In a letter to her mother, Blakely said camp was 'amazing.' She was looking forward to playing tennis, going horseback riding and trying other sports, she wrote. The letter also said Blakely became a 'tonk' – something she had dreamed of. Every new girl at Camp Mystic draws a slip that tells them which 'tribe' they belong to – the Tonkawa or the Kiowa tribe. 'The tribe traditions, which have been handed down since Mystic's beginning' in 1926, 'help to emphasize team spirit, fun competition and good sportsmanship' during games, Camp Mystic's website says. 'After each game, the losing tribe commends the winning tribe who, in turn, compliments the losing tribe. Campers from opposite tribes pair up after each game and go up to Chapel Hill to pray.' Drawing a red slip meant the Tonkawa tribe. A blue slip signified the Kiowa tribe. Blakely 'wanted to be a Tonk really badly,' her mom said. 'Her two cousins are both Tonks. … So she wanted to be a Tonk so she could compete with her cousins' tribe.' The rituals instill 'sportsmanship and competition amongst the girls, which is so great for later on in life,' McCrory said. After Blakely drew a red slip, 'she was just ecstatic,' her mother said. In another letter, Blakely made an urgent request to her mother, who was getting ready to donate items because the family was preparing to move: 'PS. Please don't give my Barbie Dream house,' the 8-year-old scrawled on a colorful piece of paper. McCrory didn't receive those letters until after Blakely died. But the scribbled request forced a smile onto the grieving mother's face. 'It's just funny how a little girl's mind works. And that's why I laughed when I got the letter, because I could just hear her writing her thoughts down,' McCrory said. 'And it was just funny. … It was so Blakely.' After sending Blakely off to camp, McCrory joined her sister and two nieces on a trip to Europe. It was the first such outing since the deaths of McCrory's husband, Blake, and her brother, Chanse McLeod – both within the last five months. When news trickled in overseas about some flooding at Camp Mystic, McCrory had no idea how bad it was. 'We were on a boat, and when we docked for lunch, we received some text messages' – including one reporting flooding at Camp Mystic. 'And so what popped in my mind – because we didn't have all of the full reports of the 30-foot surge – (was) that it was like the flood in 1987, when I was a camper.' Back then, 'you had to stay in your cabin for safety,' she said. 'They didn't want people walking in the mud and sliding around since there are so many hills. And they would bring food to us. And so that was what I first imagined it was.' McCrory then lost cell service and didn't receive a call from Camp Mystic. Eventually, she gained access to her voicemails and heard a horrid message: Blakely was missing. 'I just dropped the phone on the table, shaking,' she said. 'I was frozen when I heard that voicemail.' McCrory soon jumped on a plane back to Houston. At the same time, Blakely's half-brother and his mother scoured an evacuation center in Ingram, hoping to find Blakely. For two days, the family waited in anguish as crews trudged through thick mud and debris searching for victims and survivors. Then, on July 7, McCrory received the dreaded news: Blakely's body had been found. She was still wearing the Camp Mystic necklace her mom had given her – a piece of jewelry that helped identify her. For a widow who lost her husband, her only brother and her only daughter in just five months, McCrory is remarkably composed. She exudes an aura of calmness and even optimism. McCrory chalks it up to her faith, her family and her support network – all of which have ties to Camp Mystic. 'My faith is so strong. Actually, I was a camper at Camp Mystic, and I felt so close to my faith attending there as a camper,' she said. 'We had lovely devotionals on the waterfront where the Guadalupe River is, in the mornings, and then in the evenings, on Sundays, we went to Chapel Hill. And just the sisterhood, the faith – it just really brought me closer.' McCrory said she has learned how to cope after each tragedy and takes comfort in knowing her lost loved ones are together again. 'We lost my husband in March, and then my brother in June. So I think that prepared me for Blakely's loss,' she said. 'I'm coping very well. I have amazing love and support from people I know (and) from people I don't know. The mothers of the campers that were lost were on a group text, and were able to share stories and thoughts – and even funny moments.' As she prepared for Blakely's funeral Friday, McCrory wore the beaded necklace that she had given her daughter. 'My good friends from high school had it extended so that I could wear it, so I would have a touchstone close to my heart,' she said. She's also thankful for Blakely – and the fact that her final days were spent doing what she loved. 'She had the best time at camp. She went out on a happy note,' her mother said. And as the water started to rise, a counselor made a keen observation: 'Blakely was encouraging her cabinmates to not be afraid,' McCrory said. 'She was always a leader, encouraging others. So in my heart, I know it happened fast. And I'm just so grateful the life that she lived was so happy.'
