The Rosas family clung to one another Thursday as the Monroe mobile home they moved into just a few months ago submerged in floodwater.
José Rosas, 39, said the home was supposed to save his family money while they struggled to pay for his wife’s breast cancer treatment. Now, with no flood insurance, it’s their next financial blow.
“My daughter looked at me and said, ‘Dad, we just lost everything,’ ” Rosas said.
Families across Western Washington are grappling with unexpected, overwhelming costs after floods swept through residential areas and farmlands near rivers, forcing widespread evacuations. Many opened their doors and saw water where there used to be solid ground. Others watched as the flood seeped into their homes, the water level along the walls rising inch by inch. Those who evacuated left most of their belongings behind.
Beyond the emotional distress, the flooding is already taking a financial toll on Washington residents in the form of lost income, emergency evacuation costs and widespread property damage. It is also leaving them with many bewildering questions about what help they can get from insurance companies and the federal government.
The Trump administration Friday granted Washington’s request for an emergency declaration, a move that authorizes aid from the Federal Emergency Management Agency. As details about that assistance emerged, people were grappling with the immediate costs of displacement and bracing themselves for a long recovery of their homes and belongings.
Holding out for insurance
Fixing water damage to homes will likely be the most expensive repair Washington residents face after these floods. Just 1 inch of water in a home can cause up to $25,000 in damage, according to FEMA.
In Skagit County, where everyone living within the 100-year flood plain was told to evacuate Wednesday, neighbors stood in shock as brown water lapped at the sides of their houses near Highway 20 on Thursday.
Sedro-Woolley residents Bonnie and Joe Bunch stared in dismay at their home. Floodwater swallowed the house they listed for sale just weeks ago, soaking the hardwood floors and carpets.
“We got a request for a showing this morning for Saturday, and they were like, ‘Oh, can we come see the house?’ ” said Bonnie, 39, as she shook her head in disbelief.
They have flood insurance, but will now have to deal with insurance claims and repairs from Virginia, where they planned to move this week. Although they hope they will be refunded for the repairs, they’ve lost the money they’ve spent meticulously preparing the house for sale. They’ll likely have to take it off the market or delay any sale, Bonnie said.
Meanwhile, they’ve taken refuge at their real estate agent’s house.
“I was telling (the agent), it's the best time and the worst time for this to happen, because all our stuff is gone,” Bonnie said.
Her neighbor, Michelle Archer, 55, could only get some personal items and her fridge out before the floodwaters swamped her house.
“I’m getting too old for this,” she said. “This is the second time.”
Skagit County’s last major flood was three years ago. At the time, Archer and her husband had to spend $20,000 out of pocket on repairs before their private flood insurance reimbursed them. Then the company dropped them.
Now they are insured through the National Flood Insurance Program — the FEMA-run program that most homeowners rely on when their mortgage lenders require flood coverage.
Once the claim is filed, it typically takes four to eight weeks before payments are finalized, said Aaron VanTuyl, spokesperson for Washington’s insurance commissioner’s office.
The program, as well as many private flood insurance companies, allows advance payments on flood insurance claims to help policyholders start repairs quickly. FEMA flood insurance policyholders can receive up to $5,000 initially without an adjuster visit and up to $20,000 with documentation, though these amounts are deducted from the final settlement.
Those with significant damage who have a contractor’s estimate could receive more, according to the Department of Homeland Security.
While private insurance usually has costlier premiums, it also has higher coverage limits for rebuilding homes. FEMA-run flood insurance has a limit of $250,000, which hasn’t changed since 1994 despite the rising cost of construction.
Additionally, the National Flood Insurance Program does not cover temporary housing and food when people’s homes are flooded. That means many of the almost 30,000 people in Washington who have flood insurance through the program will have to spend hundreds or thousands of dollars out of pocket.
That included Archer, who spent $2,000 on an Airbnb last week for her and her family. Without an advance payment, she said, her family doesn’t have the money to cover all the initial repairs.
“I just about broke yesterday,” she said.
No fallback
For many residents who don’t have flood insurance, the past several days have been financially devastating.
Water damage from flooding isn’t covered on standard homeowner or renter insurance policies. Flood coverage is usually separate.
While mortgage lenders require some borrowers to have flood insurance in areas highly susceptible to floods, other borrowers who are not required may still live in flood-prone areas.
There are around 36,000 flood insurance policies in Washington, according to the insurance commissioner’s office. But more than 2 million Washingtonians live in areas vulnerable to natural floods, according to the state Department of Ecology.
The risks are higher as major flooding has become more common in Washington, and more residents, squeezed by rising costs of living, go without flood insurance unless required.
Since 2020, Washington has seen a 14% decrease in National Flood Insurance Program policies, according to the private insurance company Neptune Flood.
Many aren’t willing to shell out $936 a year — the average premium of the federal program in Washington — if they don’t have to.
Hamilton resident Bob Gensburg, 55, stopped paying for flood insurance after he paid off his house in 2008. As a construction worker, he figured he could save money in the long haul by fixing up his home himself should a flood come.
He made it almost two decades before one did.
Gensburg fled his home with his family's Bibles, but he returned Friday to see his new refrigerator floating in his neighbor’s yard. A thin layer of water throughout the house will require him to replace the floors, carpet and some of his appliances, he said.
“I think I can cover it for the most part. Well, I’m hoping,” he said.
Others, like the Rosas family, never thought to get flood insurance. As renters, they weren't required to. And it’s not something they could have afforded anyway, José Rosas said — not with medical bills already piling up.
He lost his job of seven years at a recycling center after his wife’s cancer diagnosis last year. Since then, he’s worked full time at Taco Bell and picked up any additional shifts he can.
But recently, he said, his family got a notice saying his income now exceeded Medicaid’s limit — $3,697 a month, or $44,364 a year for a family of four. The state granted his wife medical. All other medical expenses for the family are out of pocket.
As if the family’s financial woes weren’t already enough, everything they own, except the clothes on their backs, is flooded. They’re staying in a family member’s living room while they figure out how to replace necessities such as beds and furniture.
“We never thought this would happen,” he said. “We just got there.”
It was unclear whether the federal government would provide financial aid to low-income families such as the Rosas, which it sometimes does after natural disasters.
During a news conference Friday, Gov. Bob Ferguson said the state will apply for disaster relief later on, which could open up individual financial aid, if approved by the president.
Rosas said if the federal government doesn’t provide his family with financial aid, they’ll rely on their community to get by. Members of his wife’s breast cancer support group already reached out and said they’d help find her a bed.
“If (the federal government) gets to help us, it’ll be a blessing,” Rosas said. “But if they don’t, we’ll work it out.”
'I’ll be pinching pennies'
Sharon Merkle, 64, teared up Wednesday afternoon as she recounted the emotional toll the flooding had taken on her.
On Tuesday, she paid $150 to get her trailer towed from Riverview RV Park, where she lives right on the edge of the Puyallup River. It’ll cost another $75 to get it towed back to the park. Normally, the round-trip service costs $500, but a local towing company was offering a discounted rate during the floods.
“Thank God I got out in time,” she wrote in a text message. As of Friday, she still wasn’t able to go back to the park, though the local evacuation order had been lifted. Her spot was still submerged.
Merkle has flood insurance but isn’t sure what it’ll reimburse her. Since Tuesday, she’s been staying at a hotel for around $100 a night. She can’t stay in her home while the trailer doesn’t have electricity, running water or gas. She sorely misses her dog, Tedy Bare, who is now with a friend because Merkle can’t afford her hotel's pet fee.
Like most of her neighbors living in the RV park, she’s a retiree on a fixed income. Merkle earns $3,000 per month between Social Security benefits and a pension. She has no savings, so she’s covering her short-term flood expenses with a credit card.
If insurance doesn’t reimburse the costs, she’s bracing to buy less food and put off bills for a while, she said. “I’ll be pinching pennies.”
Many people who live in trailers and RVs choose to forgo flood insurance, which can be costly on top of rent. Merkle’s flood insurance was bundled with her RV coverage, so she doesn’t have an estimate for what it cost. The cost of flood insurance for RVs can vary widely based on vehicle type, location and who lives in it.
For people who can’t afford to go to a hotel, churches and community centers have opened up as emergency relief shelters during the flooding.
At Bethany Covenant Church in Mount Vernon, more than 100 people had taken shelter after evacuation orders were issued Wednesday night. People shuffled in and out of the church — volunteers and Red Cross staff, those dropping off donations and those seeking shelter. Peals of laughter spilled out of the church’s playroom for children.
Rebecca Campos decided to evacuate with her family to the church Wednesday night. Campos, her husband and their children live in a rental close to the Skagit River. But many of their neighbors refused to go.
“It costs a lot to be away from home,” she said in Spanish. She’d thought about booking a hotel room, but worried it would be too expensive. Campos is a stay-at-home mother, and her husband, who installs insulation in homes, hasn’t been able to earn income during the flooding.
Esperanza Soto, a language liaison at the local elementary school, said she’s been calling the parents of students, pleading with them directly to come to the church.
Many people in the area speak Mixtec — a group of languages common in parts of Mexico among some Indigenous groups. Those who don’t read English or Spanish can’t understand the evacuation alerts they receive on their phones, or the shelter resources available to them, Soto said.
Lost income
When the Skagit River overtook the backyard of Anne and Michael Laue, it also washed away about one-third of the income the couple had hoped to earn from their backyard Christmas tree farm.
A decade ago, the two began planting trees on their property, a mix of Douglas and noble firs, to reduce their carbon footprint and bring in extra money during retirement. This year was their fifth season open to the public.
Because of the flooding, they won't be able to sell any more trees this holiday season — cutting down their business income by about a third.
“All of our income comes in four weekends,” said Anne, 72. “We lost two of them.”
The remaining trees on their farm were all at least 10 feet tall. Just a few inches of treetop could be seen rising from the murky water.
But the Laues were less worried about being unable to sell and more worried about the risk of their trees dying. The conifers begin to die from suffocation after a week underwater.
“I’m trying not to be depressed,” Anne said.
Ultimately, they said, they’d be OK. Both collect Social Security benefits and income from retirement accounts, which make up 80% of their total income.
But they’d been banking on profits from the farm to help cover next year’s insurance premiums, which are expected to jump by 27%. To cut back next year, they might have to donate to charity less and put off capital improvements for the farm.
When they began planting their trees, they decided against buying flood insurance for the business. They couldn’t afford it. In fact, they had even considered forgoing flood insurance for their house, a move that would have saved them $850 per year.
Looking out at their flooded farm from the dining room, Michael said, “It’s a good thing we didn’t.”
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