But as I ate my mystery bowl and banana pop-tart, I watched the street outside go from damp to flooded, with the gutter drain backing up and cars slowing through the water at the intersection. My plan after lunch was to drive to New London, Connecticut, where I would catch the ferry to Long Island (and barely make it to my Airbnb in time for bed). As I watched Providence starting to flood, I thought I should probably get going. Google maps recommended surface streets because the freeway onramps were backed up. The surface street flooding was insane, with some intersections where water was several inches over the sidewalks and lapping against the sides of houses.
Eventually, I made it to the freeway, the 95 south. As I started down the onramp, a police SUV came barreling (the wrong way) down an adjoining freeway, lights and siren blazing, cut across the grass, mud flying, veered into the middle lane of the 95 south, and stopped. The police officer leapt from her vehicle, turned to face oncoming traffic, put both arms in the air, and shouted “STOP, STOP,” while walking toward the cars. It was astounding, mesmerizing, awe-inspiring. It was one of those moments where everything seemed to happen in slow motion. While this happened I’d been toddling along in the slow lane, and by the time she’d stopped the cars I was past her roadblock. So I just kept driving. (The ferry!)
And that’s how I was the last car onto the 95 freeway before they shut it down in both directions due to flooding. There was a puddle ahead of me on the freeway, but it wasn’t deeper than anything I’d just gone through in town, so I watched some cars other cars go through it, and then followed. Shortly after that the rain stopped, the freeways dried out, and it was a (comparatively) easy drive to New London where I caught the ferry as planned. The freeways in Providence ended up being shut down until 7 pm.