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| Remembering the Great Flood of 1993
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A rampaging current of ocean-like waves gave the Missouri River an extraordinarily menacing appearance on Aug. 1, 1993, one day before it reached its record height at St. Charles.
The view of the swollen river from the Discovery Bridge on Highway 370 provided one more astonishing sight in a summer of unforgettable images, produced by the greatest natural disaster seen by generations in this area.
St. Charles County has endured many floods and powerful storms, but none as long-lasting or far-reaching as the Great Flood of 1993, which by August had been under way for more than a month. The Mississippi and Missouri rivers forced 10,000 St. Charles County residents from their homes and left an estimated 47 percent of the county and 90 percent of the Orchard Farm School District under water.
I remember the eerie quiet of Portage des Sioux and West Alton on Aug. 3 when Journal photographer Roy Sykes and I joined then-state Rep. Joe Ortwerth, then-state Sen. Steve Ehlmann and Jim Allen, a Missouri Water Patrol officer, in a johnboat tour of those evacuated, soaked communities. The water was everywhere.
At Portage des Sioux, the Mississippi covered the 20-foot base of the Shrine of Our Lady of the Rivers, erected after Missouri River floodwaters in 1951 cut across the county's northeastern peninsula and threatened, but spared the town.
The 1993 flood spared little. Sheets of plastic wrapped around the base of St. Francis of Assisi Church could not save the sanctuary from the invasive waters. Only the sound of ducks splashing in floodwater disturbed the silence near homes half-submerged or more. Some homes had less water, but none appeared totally dry.
Ehlmann said it was the first time floodwaters entered the house where his mother was born. Similar observations were heard about many places in 1993 as the rivers rose to 500-year flood levels.
West Alton, buried in water up to its roofs, had taken a one-two punch, from the Mississippi first and the Missouri second. A sign on a railroad trestle above the submerged Highway 94 warned, "12 feet, 9 inches." We had to duck as we passed underneath. West Alton Elementary was so damaged the Orchard Farm School District never reopened it. A wall of Russ and Mary's Tavern had collapsed. The back wall of a firehouse was virtually gone.
Allen, who arrived from Warsaw, Mo., three weeks earlier, said a violent storm July 31 wrecked farm structures and clubhouses, sent small sheds adrift and kicked up inland waves that pounded repeatedly against flood-weakened buildings. In a summer of bizarre twists and turns, the storm was an exclamation point to a harsh lesson on the forces of nature.
Northern St. Charles County saw spring and summer floods in 1993. About 600 families fled after heavy rain in mid-April pushed the Mississippi out of its banks. They barely had a chance to go back and clean up before the river crept back in late June.
While heavy rainfall in the upper Midwest elevated the Mississippi, the Missouri stayed below flood stage until it swelled in early July from an overload of rainfall to the west.
The siege lasted weeks. Nearly every day a new drama unfolded: feverish attempts to raise and bolster levees in a race against rivers and time; evacuation warnings; residents coping with high water or escaping soggy homes; rescues of animals trapped by floodwaters; and the rush to tow mobile homes out as water from the Mississippi, normally miles away, moved into Deerfield Village on Elm Point Road in St. Charles.
National Guard troops manned checkpoints, helped sandbag levees and ferried flood victims across floodwaters. The county Emergency Management Agency's office was a beehive of activity as officials monitored river stages, tracked floodwaters, coordinated volunteers and relayed information. Forecasters updated crest predictions daily, but the rivers kept rising.
North of Interstate 70, a vast lake of Mississippi River water stretched from north of St. Charles to Highway 79 near O'Fallon. In downtown St. Charles, the Missouri covered Frontier Park and spilled onto part of Riverside Drive.
On July 16, the Missouri busted levees north of St. Charles, collided with the Mississippi's backwash and flooded farms and three mobile home parks. On the city's north end, the river poured over the levee near the Discovery Bridge and filled Bales Park like it was a bathtub. By Aug. 1, water had crossed Highway 94 and flooded a neighborhood never before threatened.
In southwestern St. Charles County, the Missouri closed off sections of Highway 94 and spread to Defiance, nicknamed "Fort Defiance" by townspeople who battled the floodwaters.
Locally, the Great Flood reached its record peak when the Mississippi on Aug. 1 crested near West Alton at 42.7 feet (21.7 feet above flood stage) and the Missouri on Aug. 2 crested at St. Charles at 39.6 feet (14.6 feet above flood stage).
As floodwaters slowly receded, Coast Guard Auxiliary members gave news media a tour of the county's Mississippi shoreline. Below the high-water line, the river had stripped trees of vegetation and colored buildings coffee-stain brown. The interior of the St. Louis Yacht Club's building was caked with mud. At Peruque, north of St. Peters, only tops of lightpoles gave hint of a parking lot in floodwater still several feet deep. A crumpled mobile home leaned in the water; no one knew where it came from.
The flood (and later the cleanup) was a nightmare for its victims, but high water and devastation make up only part of the story. It's also about human nature in times of crisis.
About 15,000 volunteers, including families from throughout the metropolitan area and vacationers who pulled off the highway, filled and stacked more than 2.1 million sandbags in St. Charles County.
Sandbags could not keep the rivers out of West Alton, Portage des Sioux, St. Charles and Defiance. But on Aug. 1, an army of volunteers prevented floodwater from draining into Orchard Farm High School. Their "never-say-die-attitude," as then-Superintendent Gary VanMeter described it, produced one of the year's shining moments.
Besides government assistance, flood relief poured in from the Salvation Army, corporations, churches, schools, clubs and others. Red Cross volunteers from across the country and Canada stayed for weeks to give aid and comfort. Groups from Pennsylvania, Ohio, even the Ukraine helped clean up and rebuild. Orchard Farm Elementary School received truckloads of supplies, pen-pal letters and money from 18 states.
The flood emphasized the risk of living in areas prone to flooding. Some people didn't go back, but many did. West Alton, where floodwaters remained until September, rebounded on the strength of residents' resolve to rebuild their community.
As Orchard Farm opened classes Aug. 25, students whose summer had been washed out hoped for a normal school year. A banner in the high school offered an encouraging message: "Tough times never last. Tough kids do." It might well have been the people's theme during those trying times.
The Great Flood of 1993 is remembered for the depth and breadth of its waters and the extent of its destruction, but the toughness of the floodfighters and the humanity of those who rendered aid are as much the flood's legacy as the flood itself.
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