reSee.it - Related Video Feed

After arriving via helicopter, the speaker describes the devastation in the Lake Lure and Chimney Rock area, emphasizing the long road to rebuilding. People are traveling from Florida, Michigan, and the Northeast to provide help and supplies. Volunteers are coming from South Carolina, Eastern North Carolina, and Georgia. The speaker notes the expense of rebuilding and points out damage to the Chimney Rock Inn. They describe how the mountains funnel water, creating a "raging, torn wall of water" that acts like a bulldozer, carrying rock, mud, trees, houses, and buildings. The immediate needs include help building the road back, a large retaining wall, reopening the park, and repairing the road. While they have chainsaws and water, they need structures. The speaker expresses gratitude for the support and emphasizes the community's strength despite the setback.

The sun swore an oath with its rising and its fall, speaking against the wicked with no voice at all. The moon took the vow with its phases and its light, testifying in silence through the watches of the night. The stars and their legions answer the call, swearing by the ancient one who made them stand tall. No luminary wavers or celestial breaks rank; those who walk in darkness have the heavens to thank for the witness that condemns them. The voice says, “look” and “remember,” that every oath is infused. The light the wicked refused is framed as opposed by a testimony spoken from the sky. The luminary weavers keep rank, and the testimony of the celestial order condemns those who refuse light. The sun sees every deed with its unrelenting eye. The moon records secrets whispered in the dark. The stars bear witness with an everlasting spark. The oath was sworn in heaven before the earth was formed. Those who break the covenant are broken and deformed, while the righteous keep the rhythm and know the oath is true. The wicked try to flee, but the heavens always knew. The lesson is the witness and the lesson is the vow; the guides have written it down so the record shows them how. The luminaries testify against darkness now: the sun swears, the moon testifies, and the stars bear witness. The oath is unbroken, and the heavens will not be silent.

The gate was left behind, the key was given away, and the children had the record. The narrator stood on a threshold where the halls dissolved into mist as masters gathered silently and a source began a list of every name the narrator had ever been and every face worn—“the king, the slave, the cow, the child before the storm.” These figures rose like embers from a fire, returning to sky. They were not destroyed and not erased, but gathered up and died. The gate and key imagery is repeated, along with the idea that the record is held by the children and the night had found its day. The halls are silent, the record is written, and the circle is complete. The narrator declares, “I am the light, the light is me.” They instruct, “Write it down, the tablets are for you.” The passage ends with, “The sun rises in the west,” followed by “Excavation Pro.”

'Lord of life, bless this water. May it awaken our hearts, cleanse our indifference, soothe our grief, and renew our hope through Christ our Lord.' 'Creation awaits our conversion. We commit to raising hope and to continuing to unfold a river of hope. We move from tears to hope, from grief to action.' After each pledge, we invite you to sing the refrain. 'These words from Saint Francis of Cancun of the Creatures mean, praise be you my lord with all your creatures.' 'We will raise hope by amplifying the voices of youth and grassroots communities.' 'We will raise hope by demanding that leaders act with courage, not delay.' 'We will raise hope by standing with communities most at risk.' 'We will raise hope by opening spaces for dialogue, creative energy, and solutions that we haven't yet dreamed of.' May these voices of hope rise as one. Amen. Amen. Good

Speaker 0 describes standing by a window watching cities “lose their light,” where “every screen” is portrayed as a “tiny coffin” and “every truth” is lost in a fight. They say others told them “look away” and “it’s nothing,” but they claim they have “seen too much to blink” and stayed when others scattered, presenting themselves as “the one who didn’t blink.” They emphasize that “the silence is not empty,” describing it as “the sound of what they fear”: that “someone is still watching” and “the witness is still here.” They depict public memory as distorted, with “statues made of sand and shame,” “every hero bought and paid for,” and “every rebel just a name.” Despite this, they state that “the rivers still remember” and “the ground beneath us knows,” including “every promise that was broken” and “every seed that never grows.” They repeat that “the silence is not empty,” now as “the sound of what they dread,” that “someone is still counting” the “bodies left for dead.” When asked why they remain, they explain that “someone has to write it down,” asserting the necessity of recording what happened. They conclude with a warning of end conditions—“when the last tree falls,” “when the last river dries,” “when the last lie is told,” and “when the last witness dies”—and end with “Didn’t look over.”

The speaker questions when the world will begin again, emphasizing the cyclical nature of resets. They mention the existence of giants and ancient civilizations, which were eventually destroyed. The speaker suggests that a great flood may have occurred more recently than commonly believed, pointing to evidence of flood damage in buildings worldwide. They also mention old photos showing muddy streets and the raising of buildings in cities like Seattle and Chicago. The speaker ponders the true history of humanity.

The ancient one claims the earth will hold, but the dust will remember and the bones will take names. The righteous sleeping in the silence of the grave will stand up in their glory, as the breath that spoke the stars blows the stone away. No grave is permanent, and the tombs will split like parchment at the dawning of the day. The dead are not the slave to death; the dead are not alone. Ration is described as the final refute of every tyrant’s power and every wicked throne. A voice says, “write it down,” and the message is presented as something the ages must understand: “The dead shall rise. The dead shall stand.” The dead are called by name, and the elect one stands among them with the keys of death and hell. Their resurrection is described as the terror of the night and the promised wound that finally gets to heal. The righteous are identified as the children of the never-ending dawn. Their bodies are remade, their weariness is gone, and they will not rise into the glory of the light as something unspecified but as a definitive coming reality. The text repeats its central declaration: “The earth will not hold what the ancient one claims. The dust will remember. The bones will take names.” It closes by reaffirming, “The dead are not alone.”

Speaker 0 wrote words for “the ones who walk the line” when “the world is burning and the stars refuse to shine.” In this time, “the righteous will be counted” while “the wicked [are] swept away,” and “the path is getting narrow at the closing of the day.” The message urges not to take the “left hand road” where “the shadows make their bed” or the “right hand path” where “the proud have always tread,” but to “walk the center where the light has always been” and to “walk the narrow where the faithful enter in.” The voice instructs, “write it down and be complete,” stating, “The path is for the righteous. The path is for the fleet.” The exhortation continues: “Walk in the light while the darkness is rising.” “The years are disappearing into the judgment throne,” and the warning is to not “trade your birthright for a moment of the lie,” not to “sell your soul for a kingdom that will die,” and not to be drawn away from what is real. The righteous are described as shining “like stars in the firmament above,” while the wicked are said to “burn like chaff in the furnace of the shove.” The exhortation is presented as a standing warning “the seal,” with “the path is narrow, the path is real.” Speaker 0 says the voice commands again, “write it down, it'll never fade,” and declares, “The faithful walk the narrow. The faithful are the saved.” Speaker 1 repeats, “Walk in the light while the darkness,” and Speaker 0 adds, “But you won't get lost.”

There was a giant flood, but they were washed in Jesus' blood. When the water rose, they went adrift. Their faith was strong, and they were overwhelmed by love and prayers. They cried and prayed, and others clothed, fed, and brushed their hair. They will never forget their names, with no blame or fault. They are part of a mystic herd, spreading his light, holy and broken. They did their best, leaving a light that shines in the dark. They told his truth and stand before the Lord of Psalms with nothing on their tongue but hallelujah.

- The speaker references a faded parchment where “the four fathers carved the cold times,” marking a legacy tied to midnight and a path where “a cargo floods the veins of every open road,” and “White trash on a mirror of a bloodline's rifle claim.” The image suggests a turbulent inheritance where old ideals collide with present upheaval, described as “thunderheads” ready to drown the original flame, with trains “louder than the liberty bell.” - New tides are pulling the future, described as “a liberty spell,” while the script has “flipped since the iron quill first caught the spark,” yet “the fire in our veins still refuses to go dark.” There is a sense of reversal or betrayal, with questions like “Why trash me in there?” and the notion that “We call it mercy symphony as the original score gets overthrown.” - The parchment “cracks under four and ink,” and “softly the dream begins to sing,” implying that the foundational document or ideals are breaking apart, yet the dream persists through singing or expression. - The line “Yet the blood that signed at first still echoes through the blade” reinforces that the original commitment or violence of the pledge remains audible in present actions, while “Grass real low so snake and avoid the blood” suggests evasion or danger surrounding this legacy. - The speaker questions “Why trash billionaire?” and notes that “Haunts stacked against free victory,” with the claim that “They bought the rewrite while the” implying intentional manipulation or ownership of history or outcomes to undermine freedom. - Overall, the passage juxtaposes a revered founding heritage with current distortions and powerful forces (billionaires) that attempt to rewrite or suppress the original values, while the passion or “liberty spell” and the enduring heartbeat of the original bloodline persist despite attempts to silence or replace them.

Burning Man 2023 got rained out, which reminds the speaker of something. They question why the media doesn't report on the smoke coming out of airplanes and the unknown origin of people seeding clouds. They mention elements like sticky mud and rain, saying it brings everyone together. The speaker suggests that if everyone thinks really hard, they can stop the rain.

The speaker rejects calling earthquakes only tragedies or “fault line sudden shift,” saying they noticed a “frequent spike an hour before the rift,” with “Harper Rays, Humming Inos, Faye Aglow,” followed by the ground “dancing when a fault should go.” They reference “Venezuela’s shaking” and “the coast will chill too,” “the coast of Chile too,” and claim “the headlines next morning will reveal for you.” They argue that the same entities benefit repeatedly: “the same consumium that owns the Crete,” and “the same banks that profit when a nation’s on its knees.” They describe a cycle where “They break your back and your crutches and call it charity,” then “swooping white IMF loans while the debt is still warm in the broken homes.” They say “You think it’s coincidence, the timing and the place,” framing it as “pattern in eight with strings” and “low-key destruction, economic occupation.” The speaker ties the pattern to technology and prior knowledge, claiming “He said you could split the planet with the vibration strong,” attributed to Tesla and “the Earth’s own resonant song.” They assert that there are now “patents,” including “directed energy beams,” and they connect this to disasters that occur “before the leader.” They also claim that “The rescue team arrived before the dust could even settle,” with “Cameras rolling” and “the CEO of the construction conglomerate standing on the rubble like a king at his coronet.” They state that “his company’s stock jumps 20%,” and that “The next quarter” brings profit, while people “don’t ever give it patient” once “the check clears.” They argue that earthquakes function to clear targeted areas for extraction, saying “The mineral-rich zone that just got leveled” includes “the lithium, the oil, the rare earth ore,” and that “an earthquake clears the residents so they can mine some more.” The speaker insists they are “not a conspiracy theorist” but a “pattern reader,” and says “It’s not paranoia when the receipts are in plain sight.” They describe the broader mechanism as “the darkness doing business in the absence of the light,” adding that “They topple governments with acts of God across the nation,” then “swoop in white helmets while the dead are warm in their broken homes.” They call for attention rather than silence: “So what do we do? Scream into the digital void,” but also “I’m standing on this beat like a fault line about to break.” They urge listeners: “Let the algorithms hear this” and “the next time the ground shakes, ask who’s standing nearest.” They conclude that “The earthquake didn’t come from the sky. It came from a board won’t,” and that “the saviors were already on the plane,” repeating the idea that tragedy and “fault line sudden shift” conceal a prior “frequency spike” before the rift.

A person in Western North Carolina reports rescue choppers are still flying overhead on day 6. They feel survivor's guilt because their town was spared, but a nearby town was completely wiped out, with everyone killed. The speaker claims the media is lying and people are being threatened with arrest if they try to help. They express disbelief that the government is preventing people from saving each other. The situation is described as beyond a nightmare, with bodies everywhere, possibly including displaced caskets from flooded cemeteries. The speaker asserts the only people providing aid are the survivors themselves. They express anger towards the government's response to the disaster.

The Hoover Dam, completed during the Great Depression (1931–1936), created Lake Mead—the largest reservoir in the United States—and submerged 248 square miles of land (158,720 acres) under 532 feet of water. Among the submerged sites was the town of Saint Thomas in Nevada, where in the 1930s residents were told to sell their land to the federal government; most buildings were abandoned or dismantled. The speaker notes that buildings in Saint Thomas were not wooden or dirt—“palaces” from the old world—and argues they were dismantled before submersion because they would later be buried again. Saint Thomas, at its peak about 500 residents, had post offices, gas stations, general stores, homes, churches, and schoolhouses, contradicting the image of a wild, sparsely populated frontier with only shacks and dirt roads. Today, with record low water levels on the “fake lake” Lake Mead, Saint Thomas has reemerged, allowing visitors to walk the ruins and see old roads and mud-browned remains. Old windows and doors appear buried in the ground, and some buildings are seen partially buried or obscured, prompting the speaker to speculate that much of the map was affected by water. The Hoover Dam itself features massive underground infrastructure—tunnels, shafts, chambers, and sealed-off rooms—that are not accessible to the public. The dam’s construction involved a ceremony in 1935 when President Roosevelt spoke at the dedication, accompanied by two winged bronze statues at the dam’s base. The speaker highlights the architectural symbolism: winged figures, a compass rose, and a celestial star chart, tying the structure to the stars. They point to a date of 09/30/1935 and a time of 08:56 PM, arguing this precise timing coincides with Jupiter and Saturn’s prominence in the sky, interpreted as a cosmic marker of shifts in civilization. The speaker states that ninety-six workers died during construction, though others claim the number was higher, and notes there is no memorial listing their names. A plaque referenced in other episodes allegedly states that they died to make the desert bloom, framing the event as ritualistic. Beyond the explicit function of power and flood control, the speaker suggests the dam houses “old world technology” requiring immense power, potentially related to other dimensions or portals. They compare Hoover Dam to CERN, pointing to symbolism and timing as evidence of hidden knowledge, and speculate that the dam could be a tool beyond merely powering towns or preventing floods. They posit that dams actively erase or suppress old world sites and that similar patterns appear at other dam projects worldwide (Turkey, Egypt, China, India), implying a broader geopolitical or historical pattern. The overarching theme is that the dam’s symbolism, timing, and associated legends point to hidden technologies and purposes, with Saint Thomas’s resurfacing serving as a provocative clue. The discussion remains speculative, presenting connections among architectural symbolism, astronomical alignments, construction casualties, and supposed hidden technologies inside the dam.

After the house detached, it hit power lines and trees, throwing the speaker's family into the water. The speaker lost sight of their mother and son but could hear them screaming. The speaker's 73-year-old father was struggling to survive. The speaker's seven-year-old son, who didn't know how to swim, was last heard screaming for Jesus to save him before they were separated. The speaker floated in the water until getting trapped in a tree, continuing to look for them. At one point, the speaker saw their mother screaming for their son. The last thing the speaker heard from them was screams and calls for Jesus.

“The pen is moving, the ink is permanent.” The names of the righteous are “carved in the firmament,” and “no hand can erase them” and “no tyrant can scratch the stone.” Those who “walked in mercy” are “the ones the book has known,” while “the wicked” are “a vapor” and “a shadow on the page” whose names “are not recorded” and “vanish with the age.” The message warns not to “sell your soul for a kingdom made complete” or chase “a temporary throne,” urging instead to let one’s name be sealed as the “righteous are the written,” facing “defeat” for the wicked. “Written in the book.” “We’ll inherit the dawn.” The “sons of the shadow” will “wish they were never born,” while “the elect one reads the ledger with eyes that never close.” The elect one knows “the ones who gave the water,” and distinguishes paths: “he knows the ones who chose the left hand path,” the “right hand lie,” and the “middle road of mercy.” The faithful are said to “lock” what is “written,” and the admonition is to “let your name be sealed in fire.” The “book of life is open,” and “the voice that write it down” sets “the warning” as “the way the righteous are recorded.” The “wicked are the prey.” “They were never born.” “The elect one reached the ledger.” With “eyes that never close,” he knows “the ones who gave the water.” “Don’t let it fade.” “Excavate.”

The speaker rejects the idea of “turning the cheek,” describing themselves as the “pressure” building from silence that “can’t speak.” They say others want them “calm,” “quiet,” and “small,” but claim the version of them meant to “take the fall” is “dead, buried under the floor.” They describe having been “patient” and “kind,” and state that what follows is not a “cry for help” or a “reach for peace,” but “the sound of the pressure released.” They recount “every backstab,” “every lie,” “every sorry that was fake,” and “every promise” broken to “watch my spirit break,” then declare: “I’m not forgiving, I’m not forgetting, I’m not letting it slide.” They present themselves as “the consequence” and “the thing you can’t hide from,” calling for the beat and bass to shake and split the floor. They frame this as the “silent finally getting loud,” the “ghost of the night sky” stepping out of “the shroud,” and insist they are “not your savior,” “not your saint,” “not your friend,” and “the ending” that is “here,” “the end.” They describe mapping the heavens, navigating by stars, and trusting guides, but say the stars went dark, constellations flickered out, and they ended “on the other side.” They address “the darkest light,” treating darkness as “the only friend I got,” and say they sat down and whispered everything it “forgot.” They claim similar wounds in “same story, different person,” and reject the idea of the sky as a promise or light as a vow, saying the cosmos rearranges without explanation. They say they stopped looking upward and started looking in, finding “a kind of quiet that the light had never shown,” while stating, “On the surface I’m a king, but inside I’m a kid.” They say the stars were never anchors, only “temporary flame,” and they drift “through the wreckage of a sky” with “no destination, no direction.” They insist drifting is not a prison or cage, but “the turning of a long and solitary page,” and they whisper to darkness the things they never said: dreams left for dead, tears never shed. They say darkness “didn’t answer” and “didn’t care,” yet “just held the space” to let them bear “every shattered hope” and “every broken plan,” including reaching for light and returning with empty hands. They conclude that silence was the truest thing and that darkness wasn’t evil—“darkness was just sad”—leaving “it’s enough.”

The ship touched the shore of a land called Kim, where the sand was black with memory and the sky seemed to close in. The narrator stepped onto the earth to begin new work, with a Tablet strapped across their chest—bearing the weight of where they’d been. From the horizon, beings arrived without footstep or sound. Their bodies were made of light and didn’t need the ground. They were described as the masters of the cycles, the ones who finish what the narrator would start. They did not speak in words, but directly to the heart. The beings said the narrator had carried what remained of the world that chose to drown, and that the narrator was here to wear the crown. They told the narrator about halls where the dead must pass through fire, where the record of every life is laid upon the pyre. They stated that the halls of Ammiti were beneath the narrator, and that excavation was proceeding beneath them.

The speaker says it will “make you crazy,” describing a substance or phenomenon called “Skyspray” that “makes the air haze.” The phrase “Skyspray” is repeated as part of the warning, and the speaker frames the experience as something aggressive and disorienting. They then describe an encounter with “tidal waves” that “blast you.” This is paired with emphatic language—“Smash”—suggesting forceful impacts. The speaker also says, “Watch the weather smash you,” linking the threatening experience to weather-like conditions that act violently. Next, the speaker references “angels” that “fly past you,” while also saying they “unmask.” The repetition of “Unmask” emphasizes that something hidden is being revealed or stripped away during the sequence. The speaker continues by stating “Evil grasps. Grasps.” This repeats the idea that evil grabs hold, and the repetition reinforces the sense of being seized or trapped. They then claim, “Pulls you into the black,” positioning the blackness as the end state or direction of the pull. After that, the speaker shifts to technology and control imagery, saying, “You hooked up to the matrix. Now you’re coded.” The idea is that connection to the “matrix” results in being “coded.” The speaker further says, “DNA loaded,” describing DNA as something that is loaded into the system. They then intensify the imagery by asserting, “In a box. DNA loaded in a box.” The speaker adds a more specific mechanistic detail: “Brain hung up in a frame.” They describe ongoing energy and confinement through the line, “Energy that never stops,” tying the system to continuous, uninterrupted power or force. Finally, the speaker returns to the consequences for the person, saying, “And you’re head in shame.” This ending is repeated with “Head in shame,” emphasizing that the state of shame is central to what remains after the described events. Overall, the message cycles through haze in the air from “Skyspray,” repeated violent impact imagery (tidal waves blasting, weather smashing), the passage and unmasking of angels, repeated gripping by “evil” that pulls the subject into the black, then a shift to a “matrix” that codes the person, loads DNA “in a box,” hangs the brain in a frame, generates “energy that never stops,” and culminates in “head in shame” repeated for emphasis.

The speaker discusses “old fashioned dowsing,” arguing that it has been dismissed as “woo-woo” and discouraged from everyday use, even though major organizations use it. They claim Big Electric, Big Harma, and Big Oil all use a douser to find “unlimited water” and “unlimited oil,” and they state that the US military teaches a class on dowsing. The speaker contrasts this with advice to “stay away from dowsing,” asking why the richest corporations and the military would use it if it were truly “woo-woo.” They further argue that “we’re never running out of water,” describing a belief in “primary water underneath our feet” that is “unlimited water.” The speaker says Lake Elsinore dried up in the 1950s, and then a douser was called in to find water that filled it back up. They state that California “knows” there is unlimited water underground. The speaker claims books such as *New Water for the Thirsty World* were burned, and presents this as part of a larger narrative: governments allegedly promote water scarcity while allegedly knowing about unlimited water. They also say data centers “know there’s unlimited water too,” and suggest that the continued building of data centers implies knowledge that water would not run out. The speaker describes *New Water for a Thirsty World* as exposing that water is unlimited and ends with the statement, “Water is the real gold,” asserting that without water or food people cannot survive.

There is a warning that a catastrophic event is inevitable, and attempts to keep it secret are futile. The speaker questions the ability to conceal the impending disaster, emphasizing signs like unusual weather patterns. The message is clear: the truth will be revealed, and preparations must be made for survival.

We know he's good, God, and he no longer could be here. We honor his legacy. We're not briating it, God. We're not shaming anybody, God. We're just humbling ourselves before you. Yes, Lord. You brought the thunder and rain today, God.

The speaker is in Chimney Rock, describing the devastation as apocalyptic and overwhelming. They state that some people in the area hadn't been checked on until day 22, found by people on horseback. The speaker describes a pervasive smell of death and walking over 20-30 feet of mud and muck. They mention a call for resources at Silverado's and the need to verify requests before distributing supplies due to limited resources. The terrain is treacherous, with roads dropping off into the river and power lines down. The speaker notes the protective nature of the local Appalachian people and their reluctance to have many outsiders around. They express horror that only a YouTuber has checked on them, given the extent of the devastation. The speaker says the situation is chilling.

The dialogue centers on a persona who declares being “dead and gone,” claiming a life of harm from society and repeated demise—“I died a 100 times in my life.” Christopher is invoked as a focal point, with “A man's life. In your ears, Christopher. He fly.” The speakers describe a world where around them, eyes appear dark and hearts fake, and where angels from the sky supposedly pick them up while some feel no spark in their souls. The exchanges intensify into a confrontational, defiant mood. The speaker proclaims power over others—“I’m the boss. Inside them, zombies bodies hide them.” They lash out at enemies with lines like “Loser get them five friends” and “No, you fake fuck. Kills will get him vibes,” portraying a brutal social environment and a willingness to dominate or destroy rivals. The refrain “Society of cuss. It’s big shit, drugs inside. It’s lit up.” ties the chaos to social decay and drug culture, while “That’s why I drip. I’ll fuck them up. Watch me strike” signals a personal assertion of swagger and aggression. The dialogue includes explicit, crude bravado: “Biggest cock in the anos. When I come correct, you’re fucked,” paired with “Taking bets. Got some shit tucked. I got some shit tucked. Take their money quick.” There’s a theme of deception and manipulation, with references to “Call them up. You fake fucking bitch. On their shit,” and a readiness to exploit others financially or morally. Images of violence and transformation surface through surreal imagery: “Agent Smith. Agent Smith. Wrapping yet. Virus stripping. Agent Smith. Stripping. You up. Packing tips for your brain.” There’s a sensation of internal and external siege, where demons, angels, rain, and flames intermingle as forces that can alter the self or body. The lines “Demon feel the pain. Angels filled my body with the rain. Takes away the flames when they kill” juxtapose suffering with otherworldly intervention. Descent is repeated: “The ship is sinking quick,” while the speaker ventures into existential risk—“I fly the rock into the abyss. I don’t pray for shit. I fly the rock. I fly the rocket into the abyss. I don’t pray for shit.” Yet there’s a note of uncertain hope or destination: “Just hope I’m making it to the other side.” The imagery shifts to an expansive, almost mythic landscape—“Underground tunnels filled with pits. Stars overhead that never shift.” The sky is a gift, and a song can shift one’s spirit, with a declared readiness for a transformative “shift” that is described as a gift. Toward the end, the phrases “Excavation Pro” and “Original beep” punctuate the piece, signaling a turning point or signature moment in the narrative.

Reports from Western North Carolina are horrific, with the news understating the true devastation. There are bodies, including babies, floating down the river. A friend in Canada heard reports of 200 missing and 40 dead, but the speaker believes the numbers are much higher, citing over 900 unidentified bodies at a Nashville hospital two days prior. The speaker urges people to pray for Western North Carolina and to rely on information from people on the ground rather than the news. Truck drivers attempting to deliver goods were stopped with slashed tires. The speaker believes the government is not helping and that it will be up to everyday citizens to help each other. The speaker believes this will go down as one of the worst storms in American history.