FLOOD FIGHT ON WATER ST. NEVER ENDING; RESIDENTS USE ALL THEY CAN TO KEEP WATER OUT

Surviving on North Water Street these days is a 24-hour job. Pumps run day and night, keeping the Mississippi floodwater away from Woody and Virgie Sadler's house. And next door at Brian and Amanda Hartis' house. And Kenny and Bea Poole's house four doors down. Over on the east side of the street, everyone already has given their houses to the river.

The Sadlers, both retired, have lived in their house at 1407 N. Water for 44 years. In that time, the closest the water ever came to their house was across the street. Now it's all around them.

Six pumps in the front of the house and two in the back expel water from behind the sandbag levee they have erected. "They've been going for 10 days non-stop," Woody said Sunday.

They keep the pumps running during the day. At night, his brother, who lives just across the alley behind their house, takes over the watch and they go to his house for sleep.

Water has crept under their frame house, and they're in danger of losing their furnace. It cost them $75 to have their air conditioner jacked up off the ground.

But if they hadn't made the effort, water would have taken over the house by now, Sadler said.

"We didn't want to walk off and leave it without a fight."

His wall made of plastic sandbags has slid out three or four times. Sadler says it's because the mud below gets soft.

The fire department has helped him switch sandbags when they've become useless.

Sadler says he is far beyond being tired of fighting the flood. "I was tired before it started."

The sandbag levee protecting the Hartises' house at 1401 N. Water gave way a few days ago. When it happened, two pumps were lost, half a wall gave way and water got into the floor joists.

"At least we don't have to worry about the wall," he said ruefully.

The gas had to be turned off in the house, and the sewer long ago quit working. The Hartises, who are staying in Jackson temporarily, had been in the process of buying their house.

"Whether we stay depends on the damage done inside," he said. "I might just fix what I've got."

An employee of Lee-Rowan Co. in Jackson, Hartis hasn't worked for more than a week.

"They gave me time off, no questions asked," he said.

When his levee let go, some U.S. Coast Guardsmen helped rebuild it. He has done the same for neighbors.

Of the three houses, Kenny and Bea Poole's is the only one that has a basement. "I wish we didn't," she says.

Their pumps have been churning just to keep the water on the basement floor to eight inches, below their hot water heater.

"If I'm going to stay here I'm going to take a hot shower," Bea says.

The Pooles have flood insurance, and they have applied for assistance through the Federal Emergency Management Agency.

Bea is unemployed, and Kenny hasn't worked since he slipped and broke two ribs going down the back steps while fighting the flood.

They take turns watching the pumps he during the day, she at night. "I got two hours sleep last night," she said.

Bea projects a never-say-die attitude toward the flood, but admits to fears and frustrations.

"I'm really good at hiding it," she said. "You ought to see me when nobody's around."

Kenny praises his neighbor across the street, Eddie Hill, who brought him a pump in an emergency. Eddie since has moved from his flooded house.

Kenny can't resist having a laugh at the predicament everyone on Water Street is in.

"You know what they say, `Watch what you wish for.' Well, wishes do come true," he said.

"I always wished I'd have a cabin on a river. I got it."

Bettie Knoll, a special officer for the Cape Girardeau Police Department, is frequently in the neighborhood making sure everybody is OK. A Red Cross Emergency Relief Vehicle provides a hot meal twice a day to anyone who wants one.

Police, often summoned by wary neighbors, are keeping a close watch in the Red Star District. Any unfamiliar face is scrutinized and checked out. The flood still attracts tourists.

Hartis, who has only lived on the block since March, was paddling about on his boat videotaping the flood scene. The police were waiting for an explanation when he returned.

Reporters get much the same reception until they check out. "Yeah, freedom of the press," said one officer. "But some people don't feel that way about it."

Now that the crest has come and gone, Sadler is hopeful that one day soon he can switch from fighting the flood to cleaning up after it.

"I think the worst is over," he said.