I remember that as children in 1965, before the great flood, we played in the street. Parents made passages in the deep snow, but we couldn’t see each other over those drifts so we called out to one another. That was very amusing to us. That year, after the snow, the flood came. After that cute memory of playing came a completely different experience because our house was flooded. That night it was already known that it would be critical because of the large amount of snow. We children eavesdropped on parents’ stories from around the corner and watched the preparations. Although it was summer when the water rose, the night was full of activity. I remember that sandbags were being collected and the army was mobilised with entire machinery.