Mike Stridsberg had pumped close to seven feet of floodwater out of the basement of his Berlin home last Wednesday when he realized he needed a longer hose to finish the job. Powerful storms had ripped through the state just two days before, but his friend Bob Nelson's hardware store had already reopened.

The store, Nelson Ace Hardware in downtown Barre, was in rough shape. Floodwaters had breached the main floor, leaving behind a layer of mud that forced Nelson to close for a day and a half. He and his staff cleared it out, but the dizzying smell of fuel oil — and whatever else had washed in — lingered. The basement was waterlogged, and most of the building didn't have power.

Nelson was undeterred. Flipping on his cellphone flashlight, he led Stridsberg through dark aisles to find a new valve for the hose. Stridsberg clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"We've both got a long road ahead of us," Stridsberg said. "Yours might be longer."

Nelson's home had been spared, but his store lost $300,000 worth of inventory in the storm, which hit Barre particularly hard. He expects that most of his losses won't be covered by insurance. But even as he cleaned up his own mess, he worked to keep his shelves stocked so his neighbors could do the same.

"When things are bad like this, that's when they need a hardware store," Nelson said. "We're trying to be there in some small way."

Doing so wasn't easy. When Nelson arrived at 7 a.m. last Thursday, the internet was still down, so cashiers had to write customers' credit card numbers on paper. The front doors were draped with caution tape. A basement storage room had flooded again overnight.

Worst of all, the skies were threatening rain.

If Nelson was overwhelmed, he didn't show it. Wearing a red Ace hat and a T-shirt embroidered with his name, he moved through the store's narrow aisles with purpose, helping customers as if this were a normal day at the office. But he wasn't all business and kept the mood light. He cracked jokes, flashing a toothy smile, and at one point handed over a credit card so his employees could buy coffee and sandwiches at the café up the street.

He started the day by grabbing headlamps, gloves and masks from the shelves and handing them out to his workers. He'd already asked one of his managers, Annette Boisvert, to call in reinforcements for the dirty job ahead: hauling out muddied products from the basement. The crew brought up the inventory and laid it on a tarp outside under a tent. They planned to keep track of what had been destroyed and what, if anything, could be salvaged.

"We have until 5 today," one staffer put in.

"I thought it was 1 that the thunderstorms were supposed to start?" Nelson asked.

Nelson has spent most of his 58 years in retail. In 1969, when he was just 4 years old, his father opened a housewares and appliance store on North Main Street. That venture closed in 1982, and the next year, he skipped college to open the hardware store with his parents, kitty-corner from the old shop. He and his wife, Linda, purchased the business in 1992.

Nelson also serves on the Barre Town Selectboard and chairs the city's Police Advisory Committee. In his spare time, he's the front man for Native Tongue, a band that's played classic rock covers and original tunes around town for decades. (Stridsberg, his hose-hunting customer, is a guitarist in the ensemble.) At the store, Nelson has given dozens of high school students their first jobs.

Nelson Ace Hardware — or just "Nelson's," if you're a local — has stuck around for 40 years as other storefronts have come and gone. Once a booming granite hub, Barre has struggled for years to maintain a vibrant downtown, though that has started to change. New businesses have popped up, and in 2014, state workers were relocated to a new $15 million complex on North Main Street.

Nelson's shop has grown, too. Sandwiched between a vacant storefront and one of the state's few remaining cobblers, Nelson Ace Hardware now occupies the first floor of three separate buildings on the city's main thoroughfare. Many credit Nelson's work ethic for his success. His admirers include the Central Vermont Chamber of Commerce, which honored him at a dinner last year.

"He has been the go-to man in downtown Barre for the better part of 30 years," the chamber wrote in its dedication. "If anyone needs to make anything happen downtown, they come to Bob for help."

That was clear last Thursday as customers streamed in, relieved to find that Nelson's was open and stocked. Watching it all was Nelson's father, 91-year-old Carroll Nelson, who said he came to the shop because he "wanted to be where the action is."

His son asked the one-man peanut gallery to sit outside, worried about the elder Nelson's health in the dusty store.

Carroll relished telling a Seven Days reporter how Nelson had ordered a truckload of stuff — 60 sump pumps, 40 dehumidifiers, and a few dozen wet-and-dry vacuums — just as the storm hit. The items arrived two days later, when Nelson's reopened.

"That's him," Carroll said. "He thinks ahead."

A few feet away, workers slipped on hazmat suits and descended to the basement through a bulkhead. They came out lugging air conditioners, water bottles and bags of wood chips, all slicked with fuel. Oil-absorbing cloths were laid on the sidewalk so no one would slip.

Flood insurance doesn't typically cover items stored below ground level, so Nelson is considering his inventory a total loss. He's filled out forms from the Federal Emergency Management Agency, but other business owners have told him to instead appeal to the U.S. Small Business Administration. He plans to take out a loan, and some community members have donated to the store's recovery. Nelson said the store will survive.

"Barre's strong," he said. "We'll be back."

Two attorneys who work next door helped with the cleanup. So did a few guys from Benoit Electric, who would later restore electricity to the building. Trista Bean, whose Berlin Street home was spared in the flood, stopped by with a friend and a Spaulding High School football player to lug trash cans to the dumpster.

"I gotta do something," Bean said. "I love Nelson's."

Floor manager Kelly Newton was running the basement cleanup like the head chef in a chaotic restaurant kitchen. She scanned the muddy bundles for barcodes and serial numbers, calling them out to another employee to write down so the store could update its inventory.

"2-3-0-5-6-9-6!" she yelled. "7-5-0-7-8-2-5!"

Newton has worked at Nelson's for 25 years, starting when she was 19. She was supposed to be on vacation last week, watching "The Price Is Right" and planning a trip to the New Hampshire Motor Speedway in Loudon. Nelson told her not to come to work.

"But I couldn't do that," she said. "I couldn't sit home. This is my family."

The sun still shining, the team took a break to eat burgers and wings donated by Mulligan's Irish Pub, which is owned by Nelson's cousin, Dave. Soon after, employees from Northfield-based Darn Tough Vermont showed up with free socks and baseball caps.

"This is what it's about," Newton said, clutching her new swag. Just then, a customer approached and asked if the store was out of plastic totes.

"There might be some on the shelves. I can show you," Newton said, sprinting away.

Inside, businessman Richard Bashara was shopping for the second time that day. Earlier, he'd grabbed 25 pairs of rubber gloves to clean his family's former hotel, the Capitol Plaza in Montpelier. They'd sold the business just three days before the storm. Now, he was buying supplies to clean up the Paramount Twin Cinema, his two-screen movie theater in Barre, which sustained minor damage.

Another Nelson's customer, Second Street resident Nancy Dutil, was in a panic: Her sump pumps had burned out, and more water was flowing into her cellar. The day before, FEMA officials and Vermont's congressional delegation had toured Dutil's neighborhood with Gov. Phil Scott, who hoped the scene would inspire additional disaster-relief funds. The low-lying street, covered in mud, suffered some of the city's worst damage.

"It's a mess," Dutil said, packing a new sump pump into her orange Subaru. She'd come back later for more supplies.

Around 1:30 p.m., Nelson checked his phone and saw a warning. A thunderstorm was rolling in, and the governor had recommended that drivers stay off the roads between 4 and 8 p.m. The store was supposed to close at 6, but that wouldn't do. Nelson's staff needed to get home.

He asked Newton to post on social media that the store would be closing at 3 p.m. He called a local podcast host and asked him to spread the word.

Employees started bringing in items from outside to keep them from blowing away as the wind picked up. At 10 minutes to 3 p.m., they were still helping customers with last-minute purchases.

Soon after, the storm hit with rain and thunder, but there was no flood.

When it was over, Nelson and his wife stood in the parking lot and looked up. The sky was burning bright orange, a brilliant sunset.