ANCHORAGE, Alaska (AP) — It felt like an earthquake had hit as the house began to tremble, then suddenly it was afloat. Water poured in through the front door, and waves crashed against the large glass window.

In the only dry room left, Alexie Stone, along with his brothers and children, gathered and watched as the outside world transformed into a watery scene reminiscent of an aquarium. A shed drifted dangerously close, threatening the window, but veered away just in time.

Eventually, the house settled a short distance from its original spot, halted by another building. However, it remains unlivable, much like most of the Alaska Native village of Kipnuk, following a massive storm surge that inundated parts of western Alaska. The deluge left one person dead, two missing, and triggered a significant evacuation operation to fly over 1,000 people to safety.

“In our village, we say we’re Native strong, with Native pride, and that nothing can break us,” shared Stone on Thursday outside the Alaska Airlines Center in Anchorage, where he and hundreds of others found refuge. “But this has been the hardest challenge we’ve faced. Everyone is looking out for each other. We’re all grateful to be alive.”

The aftermath of Typhoon Halong brought unprecedented water levels to the low-lying Alaska Native communities last weekend, sweeping away homes, some still occupied. Emergency shelters were quickly set up, accommodating roughly 1,500 people—an extraordinary figure for a region where communities, at this time of year, can only be reached by air or water.

Many of the evacuees were flown first to Bethel, a regional hub of 6,000 people. But authorities sought to relocate them as shelters there approached capacity. Stone and his family spent several nights sleeping on the floor of the Kipnuk school library before being flown to Bethel and then on to Anchorage, about 500 miles (805 kilometers) east of the villages. They arrived strapped into the floor of a huge military transport plane with hundreds of other evacuees.

A military plane took 266 evacuees from Bethel to Anchorage on Wednesday and another 210 on Thursday, said Col. Christy Brewer of the Alaska National Guard. Another flight was expected Thursday night along with more over the next two days.

Anchorage officials were working with the Red Cross to also shelter people at the Egan Center, a convention venue, as well as possibly two recreation centers, Mayor Suzanne LaFrance’s office said.

Two villages were hit hard

The hardest-hit communities, Kipnuk and Kwigillingok, saw water levels more than 6 feet (1.8 meters) above the highest normal tide line. Some 121 homes were destroyed in Kipnuk, a village of about 700 people, and in Kwigillingok, three dozen homes drifted away.

Cellphone service had been restored in Kwigillingok by Thursday, authorities said, and restrooms were again working at the school there, where about 350 people had sheltered overnight Tuesday.

Damage was also serious in other villages. Water, sewer and well systems were inoperable in Napaskiak, according to a statement from the Federal Emergency Management Agency.

Jeremy Zidek, a spokesperson with the state emergency management office, said he did not know how long the evacuation would take and said authorities were looking for additional shelters. The aim is to get people from congregate shelters into hotel rooms or dormitories, he said.

The crisis unfolding in southwest Alaska has drawn attention to Trump administration cuts to grants aimed at helping small, mostly Indigenous villages prepare for storms or mitigate disaster risks.

For example, a $20 million U.S. Environmental Protection Agency grant to Kipnuk, which was inundated by floodwaters, was terminated by the Trump administration, a move challenged by environmental groups. The grant was intended to protect the boardwalk residents use to get around the community, as well as 1,400 feet (430 meters) of river from erosion, according to a federal website that tracks government spending.

Determined to rebuild

While still in Kipnuk, Stone spent his days trying to help out, he said. He would make trips to the airport to pick up water or food that had been sent by other villages, and deliver it to the school. He worked to help rebuild the boardwalks on which residents get around. And when he had time, he would return to his battered house, trying to clean up some of the waterlogged clothing and electronics the floodwaters had tossed about.

But the damage is extensive. Fuel and stove oil leaked from tanks, and the odor of petroleum permeates the entire town, he said. Like other villagers in the region, his family lost stores of food intended to help them get through the winter — the refrigerator and three freezers full of halibut, salmon, moose and goose.

Stone’s mother, Julia Stone, is a village police officer in Kipnuk. She was working at the school last weekend when the winds suddenly picked up, people suddenly began arriving at the building, and her on-call police cellphone begin ringing with calls from people in need – some reporting that their houses were floating.

She tried to reach search and rescue teams and others to determine if there were available boats to help, but the situation was “chaos,” she said.

Her voice broke during an interview Thursday in Anchorage as she thanked those at the school who helped with the response. “It’s a nightmare what we went through, but I thank God we are together,” she said.

Stone said he evacuated with the clothes on his back. Most of the rest of what he owned was soaked and reeked of fuel. The Red Cross provided cots, blankets and hygiene supplies in Anchorage, he said, and he went out to a thrift store on Thursday to get more clothes: two shirts, a sweater, two pairs of pants, and tennis shoes.

He is not sure when it might be safe to return to Kipnuk.

“Everybody here that came from Kipnuk, they’re pretty strong,” Stone said. “If we have to start over, we have to start over.”

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