Monday, March 23, 2009

Red River Flood News Brings Back Bad Memories

I turned on CNN a couple of nights ago just in time to hear news of major flooding in the Upper Midwest. The Red River is carving out a path of destruction in Eastern North Dakota similar to--or worse than--that of 1997. I was going to grad school at the University of North Dakota in Grand Forks at that time and thus had to evacuate. It sounds like Grand Forks is in decent shape this time even though the predicted flood crest is similar to that in 1997, due to several measures the city has taken such as building permanent dikes that can withstand such a crest. Other places in North Dakota, such as Fargo, Mott, and some other places, not so much.

This flood is earlier than the one in 1997. As I told my mother, I thought April 19 was the day the dike broke then.

I remembered the date exactly. Actually, the three worst days were over a three-day span, April 18-20, but April 19 is the day UND classes were canceled for the rest of the semester and the day I drove to Montana to stay with my family until it was safe to come back.


In 1997, I already knew I didn't much care for the weather in the Upper Midwest nor the conservatism of the area and planned to get out as soon as possible. This was before that winter's EIGHT blizzards. Before having to evacuate due to a 500-year-flood (has it been 500 years already, by the way?). Even before evacuating, we had to get used to life being constantly disrupted--not being able to do what you wanted because of a blizzard, power outages, school closures. It takes a lot to close UND. Like, serious wind speeds in a blizzard. Temperatures so cold your skin will freeze in seconds. A 500-year-flood. These types of things. I have a tendency to become seriously annoyed by weather inconveniences, rather than taking it with a hearty pioneer spirit or whatever. I am opposed to character building through weather.

But anyway. The week leading up to the evacuation, I had been helping out with sandbagging when I could. Normally I worked at the psychology clinic on Thursday nights, but on April 17, 1997, the day clerk called to tell me that all the night clients had canceled, and if I wanted to help sandbag, one of the professors could use some help. So I went over there; half the psych department was already there. He was scared to death he'd lose his house, but he was one of the lucky ones--he just had water in his basement.

On April 18, I helped sandbag during the day. Watching the news, I saw the newscasters fighting back tears as they showed footage of water up to the roofs of many houses. Just as the 10:00 news was ending I got a call from a payphone. I wondered who it could possibly be. It was two friends of mine. They'd been bussed over to East Grand Forks earlier to help sandbag but had missed the ride back. I supposed they called me because they knew I'd still be up. They asked if I could come and get them.

"Can I even get over there?" I asked. It required crossing a bridge, and I thought they might all be flooded. I was surprised they were even over there. They thought I could and told me what bridge to take. So I set out to get them, figuring if I were stopped I'd just have to explain where they were so someone--even if it had to be the National Guard or someone--could get them somewhere safe.

No one was in the streets at all, except for service trucks. I hadn't heard anything about it being illegal to be out in the streets though (I think a curfew was imposed later; also selling alcohol in Grand Forks was banned for awhile). But I was able to get over the bridge without incident. My friends were waiting by the payphone. Normally they would have been able to hang out in the nearby McDonald's or someplace while they were waiting, but now nothing was open. These same friends had been living in the first area to totally flood, so they had already been evacuated from their apartment and I dropped them off in their temporary accommodations.

On Saturday, I turned on the news. It was a nice sunny day; I remember that. No cable. Just flood news. Classes at UND (two weeks of classes plus finals) were canceled. Students were to go home. I got a call from the same friends I'd driven home the night before and they asked if I wanted to go to Nebraska with them. One of them had family there. I thanked them for their generous offer, but I realized in that instant that, instead of staring blankly at the TV, I could just go home too.

Once I'd made the decision, I couldn't wait to get out of there. I started throwing things in suitcases. The last thing I grabbed before leaving was a stuffed graduation bear I had gotten for my brother. I wasn't sure when I'd be back.

I also wasn't sure how to get out of town. I made several false starts before finally figuring it out. Another slight problem was gas. Most of the service stations weren't open, but when I found one that was, it was out of unleaded gasoline. So I just had to hope I had enough to last me for awhile. Complicating things was the fact that you couldn't get down to Fargo in the usual way on the I-29 due to flooding, so I had to take what was essentially a parade route, with all the people leaving town, while I was worried about running out of gas. But, I was lucky and made it to a gas station.

I was lucky in general. I lived in a university apartment that didn't flood. I had been worried about break-ins and looting, but that didn't happen. I had a place to go where I could wait things out and come back to a completely undamaged apartment. So when I think of the negative memories this brings up for me--fear, loss of security, having my life turned upside down--what must it be like for someone who lost everything? My thoughts and prayers are with all flood and other natural disaster victims, past and present.