We were all
(our six family) allowed to take a few things with us.
A friend who
lived in the nice area across one river told us they were going away for
Christmas and left Dad the key to their house.
So that’s where we went. Over the
bridge (the very crowded bridge because everyone was leaving) to find shelter
on the other side.
We had a lot
of time to think while we waited in traffic.
What was to keep the town we were going to from being flooded itself? Well, traditionally when they knew the levee
was in danger of breaking they would
break it further down and let the water flow over the farmland. We’d be OK.
We listened
to the radio a lot that day, the night that followed, and the day after. We weren’t all that familiar with the area
and they were giving instructions on how to evacuate. We’d be OK.
I was
embarrassed that our family was towing a row boat. I felt so stupid.
Finally, we
arrived at the friend’s home and settled in.
Mom put my little brother to bed and us older kids had to be in our
beds. My bed was closed to the living
room and I could hear the radio reporting what was going on. About 1 AM, the radio told us to evacuate
again. The levee had broken close to this
town and the water was flowing toward the town itself, not to the farmer’s
fields. I was old enough to understand
the danger, but not old enough to know what to do.
We quickly
got up (we’d gone to bed dressed) and packed the six of us in the car once more. The radio was like our connection to
life. We listened to every word. We joined the rest of our world driving west
on the highway as we were told. Another
highway was flooded. We couldn’t go back
to our home. What else could we do.
Dad didn’t
know the area well, and we kind of guessed where the water was - even though
they told us on the radio where to go.
At each intersection more people joined us on the highway and the
traffic slowed.
Meanwhile,
the news on the radio was becoming more urgent.
Go, go, go, the announcer said.
Then he’d tell us that the water was heading downtown - only a few miles
away from where we inched along.
The radio
station began to move their equipment up to the second floor - just as a
precaution, they said. Then they
announced that the water was coming down their street and was almost at the
station. Then it was in the station and
they hoped to continue broadcasting from the second floor. We’ll keep broadcasting, they reassured
us. We have a generator and can stay on
the air quite a while.
So they
continued reporting on the flooding while we inched along. More cars joined us. The four-lane highway became three lanes out and
one lane in. Still we inched along. To say we were afraid was underreporting how
it was. Mom was crying silently. My brothers were asking why this and why
that. Dad didn’t know. He thought the break was to the south of us,
but if so, why was it flooding downtown.
He just didn’t have enough information to work it out.
The radio
announcer became agitated. He told us
that if anyone had the crazy idea of waiting it out, they were risking their
lives. Go now, he said. Go, go, go.
And we inched along.
The
announcer began reporting which roads were flooded. If you were headed west out of town you
needed to hurry. The water was headed
that way. Yep. Terror.
Full blown, out of your mind terror.
The traffic on the freeway still was inching along. There was no way to hurry and Dad didn’t know
a short cut - if there was one.
Now the
radio station was discussing whether they were even safe on the second
floor. Hopefully the rate of flooding
would stop soon and they’d be OK. I
began to peer out the window into the dark looking for flood waters that I
imagined were coming.
Stopping
here at 4,078 words.
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