20 years later: The flood of '93

The Great Flood of 1993 set records in Southeast Missouri that have yet to be broken. In the two decades since, flooding or other natural disasters elsewhere may have seen comparative figures in terms of cost and damage, but perhaps no event reshaped communities and altered lives in the Midwest in the way the water did during the summer and fall when the Mississippi River reclaimed its course.

This month marks the 20th anniversary of the worst of that relentless summer tide. Effects of that time are still visible today, in physical and human elements throughout the region.

Cape Girardeau

"In 1993, we saw the river start coming up," said Ken Eftink, former development services coordinator for the city of Cape Girardeau. Eftink now is Cape Girardeau County's floodplain manager. "It just came up and up."

A phenomenon of the Flood of '93 was that Southeast Missouri did not receive a lot of rain. A great snow melt, combined with an overabundance of rain to the north forced the river higher in the spring and didn't allow for much of a respite for the entire summer.

Flooding in Cape Girardeau began near Highway 177 and spread into the Red Star neighborhood in the northern part of the city not protected by the floodwall. Not long after, an area of South Fountain Street and two other neighborhoods in the southern part of the city -- one on Meadowbrook Lane and an area known as Smelterville -- turned to swamps as the river rose.

City employees worked around the clock alongside people attempting to keep rising water out of their homes. Electrical utilities failed, and flood-related problems hindered the operation of the city's wastewater treatment plant.

Cell phones were relatively rare in 1993. In this photograph an Air Force National Guard member guarding a levee in Southern Illinois writes home. (DAVID CROWE)

Wayne Moore, a retired stormwater supervisor for the city, said he remembers people sandbagging and running pumps for weeks on end. But in most cases, the pressure of the floodwater proved to be too strong. Efforts to block the flood proved futile as waterlogged soil under the surface, surrounded by sandbags, finally gave way, releasing shoots of water into the air.

The Mississippi River reached almost 16 feet above the 32-foot flood stage in 1993. It remained above flood stage for 126 consecutive days.

In total, the flood affected about 300 people and more than 100 buildings.

During the recovery, city leaders for a time doubted the possibility of offering federal buyouts because the city budget didn't include money needed for a match. They also doubted residents would accept them -- a situation Eftink said he saw first hand.

"I think people thought it was a unique event," he said. "But when '95 came, we saw the same homes flooded."

Indeed, less than two years later, many of the same areas of Cape Girardeau became inundated with floodwater when the river level reached 47 feet in May 1995.

Later that year, a coalition of faith-based organizations, government agencies and other entities formed and set a goal of determining what families needed to move out of the floodplain once and for all. Assistance was offered for moving costs and making down payments on new homes. After several years, 130 buildings in the city, including homes and businesses, were demolished after federal buyout deals were made final.

Still, it wasn't easy for officials to persuade everyone it was finally time to go.

"We had some people, we got them in the car, drove them around, said, 'You like that house, that house, which one do you like? We will help you live there,'" Eftink said. "There were a lot of nice people trying to keep their modest homes. Many families had a house and something like $200 in the bank. Buying another wasn't within their means."

Federal buyouts paid for 75 percent of a property's preflood worth during a buyout for properties covered by flood insurance and 50 percent for those with no insurance. Grants to the city made up the money that couldn't be afforded for a local match in Cape Girardeau, and in Perry and Scott counties.

Today, the absence of homes on Meadowbrook Lane is noticeable after federal buyouts cleared eight homes there. Only one resident who experienced flooding lives there now. The neighborhood once known as Smelterville, along the river south of old Highway 74/Southern Expressway, no longer visibly exists. In Red Star, buyouts cleared away between 40 and 50 properties. The cost for buyouts in Cape Girardeau totaled $2.7 million.

The Federal Emergency Management Agency ruled that no solid structures be built on bought-out properties. Structures that are allowed include those less likely to be damaged by flooding, such as parks and playgrounds. But many communities that experienced buyouts see only vacant space left after a disaster.

Gene Hahs is the one person who lives on Meadowbrook Lane. He's been there since 1963. High water over the years hasn't damaged his home like those of his neighbors.

"We had a nice neighborhood. Very quiet, private little space," he said. "But now, it's just me."

Because he is alone after the buyouts, Hahs said he has thought about moving. He won't, though. He raised his family in the home and added on. He put the work into it.

In 2011, floods reached Hahs' sidewalk; that is the highest he said he has seen it. In other areas of the city, the floods have come and gone, leaving behind much less damage than in the past, before the buyouts.

If not for that, Eftink said, "you would have repetitive loss."

Though the river has reached flood stage 18 of the last 21 years, including near-record crests in 2002, 2008 and 2011, many fewer structures and people in Cape Girardeau have dealt with flooding. In 2013, the river crested 10 feet above flood stage. But little, if any, flooding damage occurred within Cape Girardeau city limits.

"To me, high water again and a nonevent in the city of Cape Girardeau is a success story," Eftink said.

1993, the extent of flooding and the length of time the flooding persisted in the Mississippi River above Cairo were unprecedented. The river exceeded its 32 foot flood stage in Cape Girardeau for 126 days. Instruments in Thebes, Illinois, typically measure the Mississippi´s average flow in early August at slightly less than 200,000 cubic feet of water per second. On August 8th, 1993, though, the river flowed past Cape at a volume of nearly one million cubic feet per second. That same day the floodwaters crested in Cape Girardeau at 48.49 feet, an all-time record, sixteen and one-half feet above flood stage. (DAVID CROWE)

McBride, Bois Brule Bottoms

For many long months after the water shot from the side of the levee holding back the Mississippi River at Jones Towhead, the people of the Bois Brule Bottoms watched as the water swallowed their homes, their farms and their businesses -- not once, but every time the river crested. After a break in the levee to the south of the small town of McBride in the early hours of July 25, 1993, a 26,000-acre area of farmland held water 25 feet deep in some spots. Recovery seemed to be years away, if possible at all. But after the 1,800-foot-wide break in the levee was sealed and the floodwaters receded in the late fall of '93, McBride began to come back to life.

Today, unlike so many small communities along the Mississippi River wiped out by the flood, McBride could be considered thriving. Two mainstays -- Al's Place restaurant, and Ernst Service Station and Machine Shop -- recovered. At lunchtime each day, Al's Place owner Lois Naeger is too busy to talk for more than a few minutes. She's got orders to fill for countless call-ins and a roomful of diners -- the restaurant serves an average of 200 people a day in a building that once saw 15 and a half feet of water inside. Thirty-one property owners eventually took federal government buyouts in the flood's aftermath. Many moved away from the river. But more than that stayed -- and seem happy about it today.

Naeger said a buyout of her family-owned restaurant wasn't a consideration for her.

"I was asked then if I would open back up," she said. "Absolutely. Because I need to, and the customers need me to."

The building that houses Al's Place was stripped down to the studs during the flood recovery.

"My help all showed up, and we got it done," Naeger said. "It's home. I was raised here."

Carl Klaus, then-presiding commissioner of Perry County, made a prediction in 1994 about the recovery in the area.

"I can tell you one thing for sure: There are people who are going to live again in the bottoms," he told the Southeast Missourian. "These people are down, but they're not out."

Nathan Ernst, who operates the service station and repair shop across from Al's Place, said though the people in McBride remain aware of the threat of future flooding, there always have been more good times than bad. And McBride's location, beside the Gilster-Mary Lee factory, just a few miles from the river bridge to Chester, Ill., and accessible to farmers, makes and keeps the town what it is.

"If we had been bought out and moved two miles up the road, if we weren't where we were, we wouldn't have the same business," Ernst said.

1993, the extent of flooding and the length of time the flooding persisted in the Mississippi River above Cairo were unprecedented. The river exceeded its 32 foot flood stage in Cape Girardeau for 126 days. Instruments in Thebes, Illinois, typically measure the Mississippi´s average flow in early August at slightly less than 200,000 cubic feet of water per second. On August 8th, 1993, though, the river flowed past Cape at a volume of nearly one million cubic feet per second. That same day the floodwaters crested in Cape Girardeau at 48.49 feet, an all-time record, sixteen and one-half feet above flood stage. (DAVID CROWE)

Commerce

In July 1993, the historic village of Commerce in Scott County was said to "resemble a lake." The flood, and a similar one two years later, forced a small-town drama to unfold that still is looked upon as the beginning of a slow death for the community. Commerce has lost much of its life -- residents estimate between 50 and 60 people live there now, although the population sign at the town's edge says 67.

Commerce, a bustling river town before 1900, served as a gateway for travelers and settlers in the region. A flour mill, tile plant, brickyard, stores and hotels provided jobs for the 800 or so residents. A railroad went through, and Commerce became a popular stop for showboats. But years of growth in surrounding communities drew the people away. Floods ran many out for good -- so many that by 1990 there were fewer than 200 residents. Then came the water again, and with it, the chance for families to finally get out of the river's way.

But not everyone agreed with a much-talked about plan for federal buyouts of about 80 percent of the land in Commerce. Between 1993 and 1995, the town board considered allowing the deals to proceed. A divided board at first narrowly struck down the proposals. The board members who voted against seeking the federal government's help were removed from office by voters during the next election. A board member in favor, Roy Jones, became mayor.

Jones, who now is deceased, supported seeking buyouts, while some residents held out for a chance a levee could be built to give the community some protection. Still, a majority believed the government wouldn't spend more to build a levee when it could spend less to buy out those in the floodplain.

Commerce has no protection from floods, natural or otherwise. In 1993, all but 17 homes in the town stood in the floodplain.

Efforts were put forth to protect Commerce during the two worst years of flooding, 1993 and 1995. At one time, the mayor threatened to file suit against the U.S. Coast Guard if they allowed river traffic to resume on the high-level river because of the threat to the water level in Commerce.

Jones stayed optimistic about the fate of the community during the buyout process.

"I think it will remove a lot of eyesores and actually improve the town," he told the Southeast Missourian in 1994. "A town can't die unless people want it to die."

When the buyouts finally came through in 1996, between 45 and 50 properties were sold to the federal government for about $1.7 million. Since then, Commerce gradually lost residents and businesses. Two churches that have been in the community for many years still hold services today. An auto repair and gift shop also operate. A historical museum holds on, although it was moved to higher ground in 2011 when its curator and volunteers finally grew weary of the flooding that year.

"We had to hold the books and microfilm above our heads to get them out of there," Dixie Dodson said.

Dodson, a volunteer at the museum and a resident of Commerce since 1995, has dedicated herself to preserving history in the village. That's not an easy task, she said, considering Commerce seems to be pointing in a downward direction more than ever.

"Well, it's not like we can fix anything up," she said. "Because of the buyouts, we can't even put in sidewalks if we wanted to."

For a time, Commerce attempted to use the frequent floods and the community's resilience as a tourist draw -- Flood Fest, an annual event, began in 1997. But the party didn't last, said Lois LeDure, curator of the museum. The event stopped a few years ago because of lack of sponsors and funds.

eragan@semissourian.com

388-3627

Pertinent address:

Cape Girardeau, MO

McBride, MO

Commerce, MO

Dutchtown, MO

Olive Branch, IL