Gayle Harper

Photographer ~ Author ~ Traveler

Ongoing Effects of 2011 Flood

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Nearly three months ago I shared with you the devastating effects of the great flood of 2011 on the people of Mississippi County, Missouri. I invited you to contact the U. S. Army Corps of Engineers and implore them to “do the right thing” and help these folks put their lives back together. Many of you did; many sent me copies of your emails and of responses from the Corps. Again, my heartfelt thanks for that! We were joined by voices of elected officials and empathetic people from all over the country and things looked hopeful.  Unfortunately, it hasn’t turned out as hoped and the people of Mississippi County are struggling. Here is the situation –

On May 2nd, the U. S. Army Corps of Engineers detonated 250 tons of explosives inside the Bird’s Point Levee at three separate locations. The act, which was part of a plan to save the city of Cairo, Illinois, and other downriver communities, allowed a torrent of Mississippi water to roar in at a rate of 550,000 cubic feet per second. As a result, nearly 100 homes, 130,000 acres of farm land and countless silos and barns were immediately destroyed. I toured the area by boat and plane in May and was overwhelmed by the extent of devastation. Click back to the posts in May and June to see some of those photos and stories.

Since then, there have been myriad studies, meetings and evaluations, but very little actual help. People whose homes and farms were destroyed are still without answers or assistance. They are still crammed into the homes of relatives or friends, unsure of any options for their future. These are resilient and independent people; many are the 6th generation of their family to farm this land. They are pragmatic about living near the River; they accept it will flood occasionally and some crops will be lost. They even accept that some homes may be flooded and the messy goo will need to be cleaned up. But, the force of the water released by these blasts is unprecedented. It tore apart the homes and barns and crushed the silos like paper cups. It gouged networks of ravines in former cornfields, leaving holes as deep as 60 feet in some. It washed away miles of roads and bridges. The African American community of Pinhook (in the post of May 29) is a ghost town. One couple is staying on their second floor; the rest of the homes lie around them in uninhabitable ruins.

Not only has financial assistance to those affected come only in dribbles, far below anyone’s estimate of the damage, but the Corps of Engineers has now made a decision which projects a bleak future for everyone. The Bird’s Point Levee, they have decided, will only be rebuilt to an “interim” level, which is 10.5 feet lower than when it was destroyed. Since the River has exceeded that level in 12 of the past 20 years, it seems only a question of when, not if that lower levee will be overtopped, inundating the area again.

After my own research, I do understand that these are incredibly complex decisions. The Corps must take into consideration the interests of many different entities. We all know that funding is tight and that nature has given the Corps plenty to do this year. Still, stopping the levee rebuilding more than ten feet below the previous level seems a short-sighted and dangerous act and no one, not even the Corps, seems to be saying that it can prevent disaster.

As I visited downriver communities after the flood, people there expressed their appreciation for the sacrifice required of Mississippi County. They did feel it made a difference. The release of all that water into Mississippi County, they said, relieved the pressure on their levees and helped minimize the damage. Does it not seem these folks have sacrificed enough? Is it not time to say thank you and help them pick up the pieces of their lives??

A documentary film was premiered yesterday in East Prairie, Missouri, telling the story of the devastation and the ongoing struggle of the people there. It has just now been made available online. Please take a moment to see it – just click this link www.disasteratbirdspoint.com   Click the “Watch the Video” button and then, if you are moved to do so, add your voice to those calling for the Corps of Engineers to help the people of Mississippi County, fix what they broke and fully restore the levee. You can easily help in whatever way you choose by using the buttons available on this site.

The events of our world pass quickly these days – and if you follow much news, there seems to be a disaster somewhere every week, making the flood of 2011 old news. In Mississippi County, although the water has receded and folks continue to do what they can to rebuild their lives, a quiet struggle continues without much notice or much help. The flood was a natural event, but the magnitude of the destruction was the result of decisions made by the Corps of Engineers. It’s too late to affect those decisions, but it is exactly the right time to affect current ones. Every voice matters. Thanks for listening – Gayle

Below – Mississippi County farmer Sam Barker surveying his flooded farm.

 

Thank You!

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In the first 24 hours after I put up the post “Tell the Corps: Do The Right Thing!” 265 people read the blog post. Many have emailed me, saying they were planning to or already had written Mr. Pogue at the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers to encourage quick action on rebuilding the levee at Birds Point in Mississippi County, Missouri. People have posted links on their facebook and other social networking pages to encourage their friends and some have said “I will send this on to everyone I know.”

Some people have forwarded a copy of their message to me and, I am pleased to say, a copy of a quick email response from Mr. Pogue. While the answers do not contain any information regarding when, or if the work might begin, they are individually written to each person, not a form response. This seems to say that at least the Corps is reading the messages and getting a sense that people are aware of this situation, watching and waiting to see what transpires.

In other very encouraging news – the Governor of Missouri has sent a letter to the Corps of Engineers asking that they “expedite review and processing of the plan to the fullest extent possible to allow farming and the region’s recovery to begin.” ALSO – he has said “his administration is prepared to commit the resources necessary to construct a temporary levee at Birds Point as soon as the Corps approves the plan.” Governor Nixon said, “These farmers already have missed a significant portion of this year’s growing season, and they need to have their crops in the ground as soon as possible.”    Thank you, Governor Nixon!

On behalf of the people of Mississippi County, thank you to everyone who read and responded or plans to do so! The growing season is waning every day this is delayed. We know the Corps is listening now – thank you for helping!  

Here again is the contact information for the Corps of Engineers:

U.S. Army Corps of Engineers

Mississippi Valley Division

Memphis District

Jim Pogue, Public Affairs Chief

Phone 901-544-4109

Email james.t.pogue@usace.army.mil

Web: www.mdv.usace.army.mil

Postal address: 167 North Main Street, B202

                            Memphis,TN38103-1894

Tell the Corps: Do The Right Thing!

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This post will be longer than usual. I hope you will bear with me – there are some good people who could use your help. But first, some background.

Mississippi County, Missouri, is a place where many people’s roots go very deep. Unlike some agricultural communities where family farms have succumbed to wealthy corporations, many of the farmers here are working land that has been in their family for three or four generations. My friends Sam and Silvey Barker grew up in this county on land that was first cleared by their respective grandparents, long before the current system of levees and spillways existed.

As I sit with them in the Depot Café in the heart of the small town of East Prairie, it seems everyone knows everyone. It gets noisy – people shove tables together to join groups and move from table to table greeting one another. Someone returns from a nearby town with his pickup loaded with flats of fresh-picked strawberries. They looked good, so he brought plenty to share. A friend of Silvey’s granddaughter runs over to give a hug and someone comes by with a report of an ailing neighbor.

The county’s namesake and its eastern border is the Mississippi River. It is part of the rhythm of life here that the River rises and falls. Farming is always a gamble – nature is capricious and uncontrollable. Some years, all the right conditions come together to produce a good crop and the market offers a good price. In others, there may be extreme heat or drought or an enormous migrating flock of snow geese may stop to feed on fields of tender, young wheat, or there may be a flood. “People feel they are a part of the natural world here,” Silvey tells me, “and for the most part, we flow with what happens and just keep going.”

The spring of 2011 started out looking fortuitous – the rains came at the right time and in April the fields were golden with wheat just starting to “head out.” Across the upper Midwest, however, deep snow pack left by record-setting blizzards was beginning to melt, swelling creeks and rivers that flow into the Mississippi. At the same time, torrential rainstorms pelted much of the River’s enormous drainage basin, which includes 41% of the land mass of the continental U.S.  Communities along the upper Mississippi watched their levees anxiously and in many cases, added height with layers of sandbags. As the growing bulge of water crested and passed by without overtopping the levees, people along the upper River breathed a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, the Ohio River continued to rise, cresting in many places at levels exceeding records set in the flood of 1937. Even in average conditions, the Ohio contributes more water than any other tributary. In fact, at the point of confluence at Cairo, Illinois, the Ohio is larger by volume than the Mississippi. Here is an aerial shot I took a few years ago of the confluence under normal conditions.

In late April, as both rivers steadily rose and more rain loomed in the forecast, concern grew over the levees’ ability to withstand such unprecedented pressure. The town of Cairo was evacuated and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers considered an option last undertaken in 1937; to blow up the levee at Bird’s Point in the northern portion of Mississippi County.

The pragmatic farmers had already understood that the River would claim some crops and likely threaten some homes this year, but the level of destruction that would occur if the levee was intentionally breached far exceeded that. There was controversy and efforts to stop the action, but eventually the decision was made and 250 tons of explosives were loaded into the levee.

On the night of May 2nd, Sam and Silvey felt the ground pitch and roll as the horrendous force of the blast shook their home in East Prairie, some thirty miles away. Water roared through the resulting gap in the levee at 550,000 cubic feet per second and quickly flooded nearly 100 homes and 130,000 acres of crop land, including 2,000 acres farmed by Sam and Silvey. When I toured by air and by boat nearly two weeks later, I was astounded at the massive expanse of water. Here is an aerial shot at that time.

As the enormous wall of water moved downstream, levees were built up and constantly patrolled to watch for “sand boils” – evidence of water coming under the levee. The Corps decided to open the floodgates of the Bonnet Carre and Morganza spillways in Louisiana to release more water from the River. Flooding did occur on the Mississippi and as water backed up into its tributaries, but levees held and the major catastrophes that had been feared did not occur.

I visited Mississippi County again last week and found the water receding, the land reappearing and people surveying the damage. For the people of the tiny community of Pinhook, there is nothing to be done but tear down and burn what is left of their homes. I walked the streets I had traveled by boat on my previous visit. It’s a ghost town of deserted, snake-infested, destruction. The layer of silt left on the ground cracked in the heat and the air reeked with the stench of rotting vegetation, carpets and furniture.

At the Depot Café, photos spread on the counter show the deep gullies and crevasses left by the force of the water, leaving some farm fields looking like the Badlands. While some farmers are thankful to find only a layer of silt, others find piles of sand or pools as deep as 40 feet known as “blue holes.” Sam was trying to burn the thick mat of ruined wheat off the one field that had drained enough, but it was still too wet. It’s clear that most of their land will not drain in time to plant another crop this year.

The news from Louisiana is that the gates of the Bonnet Carre and Morganza spillways are now being closed as water levels drop. The gaping hole in the levee at Mississippi County, however, remains – and questions about its repair go unanswered. Those farmers who can replant are unsure if they should – the land is now vulnerable to flooding with even the slightest rise in the River. People anxious to put their lives back together are in limbo, waiting for some word.

The Corps of Engineers held a meeting in East Prairie on June 2nd, one month to the day after the levee was breached. The room was packed with residents and farmers hoping for answers to their questions, for a timeline for rebuilding the levee – for information that would let them move forward. The official answer was only, “We are here to tell you how to file a claim. No other questions will be discussed.”

When I spoke with Kevin Mainord, the Mayor of East Prairie on June 10th, he said the latest official word is that the Corps plans to “do a study of the entire lower Mississippi River.” The study will take 90 days to complete; after that they will evaluate all the work that needs to be done and assign priorities to projects.    Seriously?!!

I have read and heard accolades to the Corps for making “tough decisions in a timely manner” that prevented mass destruction all along the lower Mississippi. It is even being said that the handling of this potential crisis has restored the faith and credibility in the Corps that was lost during the Katrina fiasco. People downriver have told me they appreciate the sacrifice made by the people of Mississippi County– they feel certain their community and many others would have suffered greatly had this action not been taken.

At the time the decision was made, Major General Michael Walsh, Commander of the Mississippi Valley Division, was quoted as saying, “I’ve known many of the people who have lived and worked in the floodway for the past three years. I consider them friends, and certainly making the decision to put this in operation was a difficult decision.” Col. Vernie Reichling, Jr., commander of the Memphis District of the Army Corps was quoted as saying that while the blast was successful, it was also “historic as well as tragic.”

It seems to me that while that decision may well have been difficult, the current one should be very easy. Make it right! Tell the people of Mississippi County when the levee will be repaired, get it done and help them get on with their lives. What could be the dilemma here? If, in fact, the people of Mississippi County are the ones who were tapped to have their homes and livelihoods destroyed for the benefit of others, then it is time to thank them for their sacrifice, help them restore their lives and fix the levee as soon as possible! The potential, yet fragile, opportunity to restore the damaged reputation of the Corps is hanging in the balance here. These are resilient, self-reliant people who are accustomed to hard work. They will do all they can for themselves. It is past time to let them get started!

I found a video clip of an AP interview with Mississippi County farmer Ray Presson, standing on the edge of his flooded field. He says, without anger or resentment, “…we know that other folks up and down the River are being impacted and we know a decision had to be made…” Then, as the interviewer asks him about his emotions after putting his “blood and sweat” into the land, the farmer struggles to keep his composure, but crumples and cries on camera. The link to this is below.

If you missed it, scroll down to my post of May 29 – look at the eyes and listen to the words of George Williams, whose home of 55 years in Pinhook was destroyed.

Then, if you feel moved to do so, contact the Corps and let them know that there are many of us watching and waiting for them to do the right thing.

Here is their contact information:

U.S.Army Corps of Engineers, Mississippi Valley Division, Memphis District                       Jim Pogue, Public Affairs Chief                                                                                                Phone 901-544-4109                                                                                                                 Email  james.t.pogue@usace.army.mil

Postal address: 167 North Main Street, B202, Memphis,TN 38103-1894

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-HQ0WTSiXHM  interview with farmer

Thank you for caring!   Gayle

What Matters

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Some of the stories of the great Mississippi River Flood of 2011 being presented to me are complex and multi-layered and involve sorting through decisions which were made that benefited some and seriously hurt others. Such a story will be coming soon when I share the plight of the farmers of Mississippi County, Missouri.

Other stories are simple and luminous – they just shine up out of the mud and mess and can be shared with you just as they appeared to me. Such is the story of Etta and Joe Hughes of Morehouse, Missouri.

No one ever dreamed Morehouse would flood. It’s not in the floodplain and nearly 30 miles from the Mississippi River, but these are extraordinary times. The Mississippi was so gorged with water, its tributaries and drainage systems so backed up that one more torrential rain was too much. Water rose quickly into many of the town’s nearly 500 homes, and there was very little time to salvage belongings.

Etta had gotten the word that flooding was possible, so she hurried to the store for rubber boots. By the time she returned, the road was too flooded to drive home. She and Joe waded out with just what they could carry. “It’s a blessing it happened like that,” she says with a smile, “otherwise we wouldn’t have a car now.”

For 55 years, the small frame house has been home. Countless hours have been spent on the front screened porch with each other, their three children and grandchildren. When the water receded, it was clear that virtually none of their accumulated belongings could be salvaged. “Except my stainless steel pots,” Etta says defiantly, pointing to a pile in the front yard. “I’m gonna scrub and scrub and then bleach the fire out of ‘em!” She needs them, she tells me, because every Saturday night their three kids and all the grandkids, “even the teenagers”come for dinner, to play cards or games, visit and catch up.

Joe smiles and nods and wraps his arm around Etta. “Joe had brain surgery and almost died,” she tells me, “so he has a good mind but a hard time finding his words.” “I have a sixth grade education and Joe has none,” she says as Joe nods, “but, we worked hard and have a beautiful family and a beautiful life.”

A friend has loaned them a camper trailer and their son has put them up in a motel when they need a shower. There is a complex of subsidized senior citizen housing not far away and they have added their names to the list there. FEMA will help in the meantime. “It’s all OK,” she says with a brightness that is not even a tiny bit forced. “We don’t need all this stuff. I learned long ago to make do. We have each other and we have our family. We’ll go right on getting together Saturday nights wherever we are!”

Joe nods, smiles and gives her a squeeze. The floodwater took a lot from the Hughes family, but not what really matters. Shine on, Etta and Joe! 

 

Stories of the Mississippi River Flood of 2011

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After my recent trip to the flooded area of southeast Missouri known as the bootheel, I came home to meet a previous commitment for the days since then. I am just now resurfacing to catch up with the news and see the effects of flooding on the lower Mississippi. Another trip is in the planning stage – but, for now, I want to share some of the stories of the people of the flooded land of the Missouri bootheel.

“Mr. George – I’ve brought you company!” announces my friend, Silvey, as we walk into the school bus barn. “Well, get on in here!” a voice calls from beneath a school bus. A tall, smiling man slides out, wipes the grease from his hands and welcomes me with a deep throaty chuckle. Probably everyone in East Prairie, Missouri, knows George Williams – he has been driving the local school bus since 1962. His warm handshake and direct gaze give me an immediate image of several generations of students holding both respect and affection for this gentle, strong man.

We sit on metal folding chairs in a corner of the bus barn and Silvey tells him about my upcoming book and my interest in hearing about his life in Pinhook, Missouri. His smile fades, he shakes his head sadly and says, “Tell you the truth, Miss Silvey, I’m real glad my wife ain’t alive to see what happened to our home. I believe it’d be too much for her.” He is quiet a moment as he looks down and sighs deeply. I feel his weariness as he says again, “I sure ‘nuf am glad she ain’t here to see her house like this.”

“Mr. George” as he is known, has lived in Pinhook for 58 years. There have been three or four lesser floods over those years, but nothing like this one. This time the water went up to his roof and the house will have to be torn down. He won’t go back, he says, “There ain’t nothin’ there to go back to.”

I’m piecing together the history of Pinhook, Missouri, and by the time it goes into the book, I’ll have a more complete picture. So far, I am told the community was created as a result of the sharecropper’s revolt of 1939. In recognition of and reparation for the bad treatment received, land was made available to the Christian Liberty Association. African Americans, who were otherwise prohibited from owning land at that time, could obtain 40 acre plots through that organization. Farms and homesteads were created and the community of Pinhook was born.

Pinhook thrived for a time – during the 1950s and 60s, it was home to as many as 250 people. In the years since then, however, things got tougher and much of the land was sold off as families struggled to support themselves. It’s always been a tight-knit community where people take care of each other. “Most everybody’s family in some way or ‘nother,” he says, smiling again.

“We raised our own nine kids there,” he tells me, “plus ten others that needed a home.” They all had to move away, though, in order to find jobs. When the floodwaters came this spring, Pinhook had dwindled to just 18 families. Now those families are all staying with relatives and friends, hoping to figure out what to do “before they wear out their welcome.” No one he knows plans to go back. “Pinhook,” he says, “is history.”

I know as I leave Mr. George that I will likely see his flooded house before he will. I am scheduled to tour the area by air and by boat later today. My words of empathy and comfort seem to me inadequate for his loss, but his warm smile is back as we say goodbye and I feel his resilience and goodness.

My pilot knows which house belongs to Mr. George and points it out, half-submerged and surrounded by a vast sea of murky water. Even from here, I can tell it sits at the end of a street of well-tended homes.

The closer and more heart-wrenching view of Pinhook, however, is from the boat. A street sign barely extends above the water.

 

Houses are torn apart by the powerful current and waves created by the wind. I know that under the carport Mr. George’s “old but good” 1979 Dodge Diplomat lies submerged; he couldn’t drive it out because the water came up quicker than expected.

 

Water rushes through Mr. George’s house and an entire section of wall bobs loosely with the waves. Vertical blinds wobble with the current rushing through the shattered picture window. All the drapes and blinds are drawn shut and I imagine the final moments of closing the house up, locking the door and hoping against hope. The silence feels hollow and dead, as if the water has washed away even the echoes of those who lived here. There is not even a bird call – nothing but the putter of our boat motor as we ride the choppy water a dozen feet above the street.

Pinhook Day would have been this weekend. Nearly everyone who ever lived at Pinhook came home over Memorial Day weekend. Every house would have been bursting with people gathered for noisy reunion picnics filled with laughter, conversation, music and good food. To all of you who would have been there today, my heart goes out to you.

The resilience and goodness I saw in Mr. George Williams is obvious in his family. A few of his children and grandchildren came together to create a song, dedicated to all people affected by the flood of 2011. In it they sing of their lost childhood home, but also of the home they hold in their hearts, wherever they are. It’s a celebration, they say, of the love they grew up with that can never be washed away. Here is a link to their beautiful tribute www.youtube.com/watch?v=YjRj1ULvE7k

 In love and peace,

 Gayle

 

Carolyn – Faces of the 2011 Flood

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I met Carolyn in a shelter for flood victims at the First Baptist Church in Morehouse, Missouri. Although Morehouse isn’t directly on the Mississippi River, flood waters quickly rose when systems that normally drain into the Mississippi backed up. The situation was further complicated when a dyke created to keep nearby Highway 60 open for traffic diverted even more water into town. No one had much warning and most of the small town’s homes sustained water damage. I plan to tell you more about Morehouse in an upcoming post, but since I won’t be available to post again for several days, I want to introduce you to Carolyn.

Carolyn welcomed me and brought a chair so I could sit beside her bed, one in a row against the wall. Although about 50 people were staying in the shelter at its peak, most have now moved in with family and friends. Only about a dozen remain. She was gentle, soft-spoken and friendly as she told me there had not been time to gather any of their belongings – only their two dogs.

Carolyn has diabetes and neuropathy that prevents her from standing on her feet very long, so cannot work. Her husband works as a cart gatherer at WalMart. “We are very lucky,” she told me, “my husband only had to take two days off of work during all this. We won’t be able to live in our house anymore, but we have signed up for help from FEMA.” She introduced me to her dog, Sissybell, who she said is part  “Shee-a-it-zu”  “I don’t want to say it the other way because I don’t like to say that word,” she said with an embarrassed smile.

“Everyone here has been so kind,” she said. She hopes to stay at the shelter until their housing allowance comes through from FEMA and they can find another place, but she said, “I know God will help us when we need it – He always does.”

Before I left home, I had lunch with my dear friend, Norma Jeanne, who is now in her 87th year. She’s a lively, joyful little pixie with an enormous, loving heart. Norma Jeanne lives on a fixed income and isn’t wealthy, but when I told her about my upcoming trip to the flooded area, she pulled out a $20 bill and asked me to give it to someone that needed it. As I sat with Carolyn, I knew this was the right person. I told her about Norma Jeanne, gave her the bill and asked her to remember my friend in her prayers. Carolyn was very touched and appreciative and repeated Norma Jeanne’s name to be certain of it.

 Sometimes it’s the “small” things that feel the biggest.

Images From the 2011 Mississippi River Flood

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Just a few hours ago, I returned from visiting the flooded area of southeast Missouri where the Bird’s Point Levee was breached on May 3rd. Even after touring the area by plane for an entire morning and by boat for an entire afternoon, it is still difficult to comprehend the magnitude of the event that continues to unfold as I write this.

I have many photos of the nearly unrecognizable Mississippi River at the confluence with the equally distorted Ohio River, and the vast expanses of submerged land that, until a few weeks ago, held homes, crops and livelihoods. Even after seeing all this with my own eyes, it isn’t until you look into the eyes of the people and listen to their stories that the true magnitude of it all begins to register.

I want to share their faces and voices with you here. As soon as possible, I will post again to let you see and hear them.

For now, here is one view from the air and another from the boat. 

The Mississippi River Flood of 2011

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As the massive bulge of Mississippi floodwater makes its way southward, we know that lives have been lost, as have homes, crops and businesses. We see people hauling what belongings they can carry in laundry baskets, wading through brown water or rowing a boat to their front door and our hearts ache for them. We know that the water will recede in weeks or months and leave behind a horrendous, smelly mess. For some, the crest has passed with less damage than anticipated; for others the losses are great, and for others the outcome is still very much an unknown.

 The countless opposing viewpoints and opinions about appropriate “River management” are simply mind-boggling. The more I learn, the more clear the incredible complexity of it all becomes. I am not qualified to evaluate or even understand the validity of these often-opposing viewpoints, so for the most part, I simply listen.

What is clear is that the Mississippi River is once again fulfilling its natural purpose, as it always has and always will. The River expands and contracts in order to do what is asked of it. It accepts the snow melt and rain water brought by its tributaries and sets about delivering it to the sea. After centuries of human development along the River banks and massive changes to the structure of the channel itself, the way the River does its job has changed, but its job has not. It continues to serve as the aorta of our continent, draining water from 40% of the land mass of the continental U.S.

 Last fall, when I made my 90-day journey following the course of the Mississippi from the headwaters to the Gulf of Mexico, hundreds of people participated and supported the journey by opening their hearts, their homes and sharing their lives with me. Now, as many of those lives are being turned upside down by the flood, I am searching for a way to be of help.

For now, it seems that what I can do is help their voices to be heard. In recent weeks, I have heard from many River friends and I will do my best to stay in touch with as many as possible. The Mississippi is approximately 2,400 miles long. In places, people have sand bagged and watched the waters threaten but then crest and move on without damage. In others, there have been mass evacuations and destruction. In others, they are still watching and praying.  I’d like to share some of their words and experiences with you.

 At the very top of the Mississippi watershed, the headwaters at Lake Itasca, Minnesota, my friend Terry reports the water level is normal. However, by the time the River reaches Bemidji, Minnesota, just 63 river miles and 31 miles by highway, the Mississippi and its tributaries are already swollen and running high.

As the swell of water passed through the rest of Minnesota and bordering Wisconsin, it seems to have caused days of anxious waiting and watching, but thankfully, not widespread flooding.

My friend, Ellis, in Davenport, Iowa, told of sandbagging and water in the basement, but the River did not crest at the predicted height. LeClairePark in Davenport, where I attended the Mississippi Valley Blues Festival, was underwater.

Karen and John in Louisiana, Missouri, said the water was high, but nowhere near what they experienced in 1998. This time, it is primarily the Lower Mississippi being most seriously impacted.

In Charleston, Missouri, Claudia and Randy say their fields are covered with water that cannot drain – that there is just no place for all the water to go.

I will soon visit my friends Silvey and Sam near East Prairie, Missouri, and see for myself the devastation that occurred when the Bird’s Point Levee was blown up.

 In Tiptonville, Tennessee, Jim and Kathy say, “We called on friends, family and neighbors to build a sandbag dike around our home. We are holding off about 2 feet of water and pumping seep water out.” Although their garden and landscaping is gone, it appears their home will be spared. Many others in west Tennessee, in counties such as Lake, Dyer and Lauderdale are not so lucky.

In Memphis, my friend Diana sent photos of Riverside Drive under water. Though downtown and mid-town are on high ground, the lower outlying areas are inundated. I expect to hear more from them soon and I may get there myself.

 In Clarksdale, Mississippi, the River has crested and the levee is holding. John says, “What will happen now that we are cresting? Will the river fall back down? This all depends on what happens upstream with any future rainfall, and also ground saturation, Montana snow pack, and the mysterious pulses of the largest watershed in North America that continue to evade even the most informed predictions.”

Farther south, in Concordia Parish, Louisiana, Jamie says, “People are loading their homes into 18 wheeler trailers and rumors spread like wildfire. Officials have assured us that if our levee, which surrounds the entire community, should break, we will have plenty of time to evacuate and I believe them.” There is barely contained panic and she asks for your prayers. At the same time, she is deeply proud of her community for coming together and helping each other.

 In New Orleans, the crest is expected next Wednesday. My friend, Jerry, tells me the Mayor is confident the city will be fine. Jerry also voiced the often-repeated concern for people in the Atchafalaya Basin. “It is an ancient bed of the Mississippi River and a far more direct route to the Gulf. It is believed that someday the River will reclaim that way “home.”

I have not yet heard from my friends south of New Orleans, but people in that low, flat land barely recovering from Katrina, may need an extra measure of prayers. Flood stage there is 17 feet and the prediction is for 19.5 feet by May 23rd.

 I will soon be having an aerial tour and a boat tour of the thousands of flooded acres near the breached Bird’s Point Levee in southeast Missouri. I’ll be back in touch with my own observations as well as more reports from River friends. For now, hold onto thoughts of strength and courage and if you believe in prayer, send them along.

And know this – the most consistent message expressed has been concern for others. Regardless of their personal circumstances, I have heard thoughts of support and encouragement for those suffering and those downriver. Yesterday, I was fortunate to hear the Dalai Lama speak in Fayetteville, Arkansas. He talked about the fear that many people carry with them and the antidote of that fear, which is love. While I have certainly heard expressions of fear from my River friends, expressions of love have been far more prevalent. In my experience, crises tend to strip away facades and allow the true nature of humans to show. There is not and never has been any doubt in my mind that our true nature is Love.

PLEASE DO CONTINUE SENDING ME YOUR THOUGHTS AND EXPERIENCES, WHEREVER YOU LIVE! EMAIL ME AT 2011floodharper@gmail.com

Love,  Gayle

Reaching Out

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Like most of us, I have watched the news of flooding along the Mississippi with my heart in my throat. I have thought about my many River friends and acquaintances with great compassion as this event unfolds.

Record snowfalls and spring downpours are creating unprecedented water levels, already destroying many homes and thousands of acres of crops. As the massive surge of water makes its way south, many thousands are evacuating and preparing as best they can, then waiting and praying. Such levels of water have not been seen since the historic floods of 1927 and 1937. Many changes in levees and floodways, designed to prevent the destruction that occurred at that time, have been made in the years since then. However, the system has not been tested by flooding of this magnitude. Record water levels combined with the relatively slow pace of the surge is putting enormous stress on the entire system.

This blog has been silent for several months now, as all my creative efforts have gone into the writing and photo editing for the book about my 90-day journey following the course of the Mississippi last fall. Because I made so many wonderful friends during that time – people who shared their homes, hearts and lives with me – I want to reach out now. I want you to know I am holding you in my heart and prayers and to help if I can.  

When the Army Corp of Engineers made the decision to blast the Bird’s Point Levee in order to save the town of Cairo,Illinois, I understood it would flood hundreds of miles of prime farmland in the “boot heel” of Missouri and I imagined the heartache my friends there were experiencing. When I received an email from my good friend, Silvey, whose family has farmed in this area for generations, I realized that my imagining was a pale shadow of the reality. It is impossible to comprehend the full impact of such a thing by watching the news.

After days of waiting and praying, the final decision came that a two-mile stretch of the levee would be blown up on May 2nd. Silvey and her husband, Sam, were at their home near East Prairie,Missouri, when 265 tons of liquid explosives inside the levee wall were ignited. Here are some of her words:

 “Sam watched it live on tv while I stood outside to see the flash. Two minutes later, I got back into the house as the ground began to shake – our house rocked and rolled. The horrific sound and violence of the blast rumbled from east to west. Sam was solemn and sad; he said it felt like an execution. Neither of us cried, but both felt overwhelming grief and loss. We slept very little that night. That blast shook our very lives and will have repercussions for years to come, economically and emotionally.”

Sam and Silvey lost 700 acres of wheat and corn. Sam’s “old home place” and barn are underwater. Many of their friends lost their homes.

As I thought about Silvey’s words and the thousands of others who already have or will have their own stories of this massive event, I realized that I can at least be a vehicle for some of those words to be heard. The 90-day journey of the raindrop was about discovering our diversity and our unity. We are actually all River people wherever we live – it flows through our human hearts and connects us.

 So, I invite you to write to me and share your own story in your own words, or photos, links or suggestions for ways people can help. I will recap what I can and include them here in the blog so we can all be with you and perhaps help in some way. Please share this with others who may want to be involved in some way.

 Just write to me at 2011floodharper@gmail.com

 I am looking now at a possible trip to the River very soon to document what I can and do what I can. I will keep you informed as that develops.

 Thanks!  Gayle