On June 27, Royal Myers was due for an important denture fitting with a specialist at the Waterville dental clinic.

The problem was that Waterville, in southern Minnesota, was swamped by devastating floods following torrential rains. The Northern Lights Dental clinic was protected by a fortress of sandbags, but it was surrounded by floodwaters.

No problem, his dentist told him. Put on rubber boots and he'd be "waiting" (or "wading," ha) for Myers by the Methodist church. Appreciative of the pun, Myers headed toward the clinic and parked across the street from the church.

"He was standing there in chest-high waders, with a canoe, and dragged me down the street a block, block and a half," Myers said.

That's right. his dentist, 78-year-old Dr. Bill Struve, thought that Myers' appointment was so important that he hauled him to his clinic in a canoe, just as he had hauled in the specialist and employees who didn't have waders. In some places, the flood water was above Struve's waist as he waded down the street.

It was an act of kindness in a world of sudden hardship.

The two men are neighbors and friends. For several decades, they've been gifting a 35-year-old bottle of Gibson muscatel wine back and forth to each other. Struve figures it cost $5 originally and is probably spoiled by now. He hid it in a cardboard box disguised as cake one year, and Myers discovered it when he tried to cut through the cake. Another time, Struve bribed Myers' son to hide it under his pillow.

So despite everything that was going on, the canoe ride was not without its humor. Struve admits feeling the urge to tip his friend into the drink, but they got to his clinic without incident.

The clinic's sandbags topped the floodwaters by about a foot, Struve said. He laid them down with the help of neighbors, family, and the husbands of his clinic staff. He used the canoe to float the sandbags into position, loaning it to his neighbors as needed.

His parking lot was underwater and he had a bit of water in the crawl space under the clinic, but nothing a sump pump couldn't handle. The water he uses on his patients is self-contained and sterilized, so there was no danger of contamination.

Even though his clinic is fairly unscathed, he wants to minimize what he pours down the drain so as not to further strain the already beleaguered sewer system. So he's canceled most appointments except for a few absolutely necessary visits — Myers being one.

"Fifty years, first time I've had to close the office," Struve said this week.

Myers wants to make sure everyone knows that this wasn't the only act of kindness during the Waterville floods. "I am a small part of this," he said. "During this tough time, thousands of hours by volunteers, local businesses donated food, offered their homes for shelter, hauled sandbags for others, threw sandbags for those that couldn't physically do it themselves, praying with victims and the list goes on. It was incredible to see."

A few of those stories: Anna Stoltz, a mother of three, volunteered to take in washing for those who have no running water, as her own home had been spared. As of Tuesday morning, she figured she had washed, dried and folded 20 to 25 loads of clothes for her neighbors. Hairstylist Abby Hughes offered free haircuts to flood victims. So many people sent toilet paper, soap, clothing, and other supplies to First Baptist Church that it had to stop accepting donations.

In a weird way, devastation has its upside. Neighbors working side by side, helping each other out, fighting a common threat. Struve said he's had fun getting to know people he might never have spoken to. He loved seeing a local guy sitting in the middle of the floodwater, drinking a beer. It was so typically Minnesotan. Yeah, this is nasty, but hey, how about a cold one? And shoot, why not pull your friend to his dental appointment in a canoe?

After Myers' appointment was over, Struve handed him a gift bag.

You already know what was inside: A 35-year-old bottle of Gibson muscatel.