Fiddler's Bend: Natural Beauty, Natural Disasters in The Spring of 2011

Today is Saturday, May 21, 2011. I left the Mesa Airport at the acceptable hour of 8:35 in the morning, thus arriving in NW Arkansas about 10:35am. The bare minimums flight on Allegiant Air was smooth--I slept a good part of the way! My rental car-a PT Cruiser LLT- was waiting for me; an ugly car, silver in color, with huge blind spots on both rear side windows. It had one saving grace, a satellite radio! My GPS was in my purse so I got it out and plugged her in and off I went toward Siloam Springs, Arkansas. I chose to go the windy back roads to see some scenery and I was not disappointed! The rolling hills topped with row after row of chicken houses reflected the sun making the day even brighter. The low sides of the hills were hosts to cattle and gleaming ponds, while the higher, treed side of the road dappled the sunlight on its surface. The day was fresh and beautiful-cool enough to roll the windows down and sing aloud with the radio. I was in no hurry. Connie would not be home until evening as she was attending a funeral in Ada, Oklahoma. I had to make a stop in Siloam Springs to fax a 30 day notice to my leasing agent to let them know I would be vacating my wonderful Phoenix apartment on June 22 to return to Egypt! (I am getting excited to be together with Sam again after 5 months apart!) But otherwise, this was just a day to relax and enjoy! No worries!


I want to make a note here-this was also the day the world was to come to an end: May 21, 2011. I had no worries in that regard either, because I know when the world does come to an end, it is only the world as we know it, that ends. I have eternity ahead of me! And, today, May 21st is also Sam’s 55th birthday!


I learned that Siloam Springs’ office supply store that I had used before was no longer in business, and that one of the other two was not open on Saturday and the one that had been open, closed at noon. My car clock read 12:05! Rats! The GPS told me the closest office supply would be 18 miles back toward Bentonville...I did not want to do that! I detoured off of 412 Highway when I saw the Taco Bell sign and realized I was very hungry. It would give me time to think about the fax. Three crispy tacos later, hold the cheese, I was out the door and headed to the local library hoping it would be open-- and that they would have a fax machine. I had a great conversation with the librarian about the group research project the 12 or so students were working on while she sent my fax.


Fiddler’s Bend lies right over the Oklahoma border, some 8 miles from Siloam Springs. This part of the drive is chock full of memories-we found the historical home restoration expert on the main street of old downtown Siloam, we antiqued for furniture pieces here to compliment the rooms of that old house, and we had coffee in the java shop downtown where we ran into several John Brown students who recognized Connie and Bill from her work at the University. Out on the highway, I passed the Natural Falls State Park turnoff. It is an amazing natural wonder! In a park setting of meadows and woods, the land abruptly falls open to a small canyon with a unique ecosystem. A waterfall plummets 77 feet to the pool below. Here, “Where the Red Fern Grows,” a story about a boy growing up during hard times in Oklahoma, was filmed back in 1974. An abundance of ferns and mosses grow here and nowhere else in the area. I know where my turn is. It’s at the bottom of the big hill on highway 412 where the Flint Creek Recreation area is located on the right. An old blue water slide on the left is my landmark.

Green house swept into the red one.

Fiddlers’ Bend suffered a 50 year record flood on Easter Sunday. The river crested at 28 feet above normal. I was looking forward to whatever cleanup project Connie would have for us to do! I was not prepared for the amount of damage the raging river left in its wake. Cabins and homes washed off their foundations, mud stained high watermarks on the screened-in porches, a large, wooden play set lay twisted, topsy-turvy. And all along the road, indications of the cleanup in progress: dumpsters full of wet insulation, belongings strung out across the park, piles of smoldering debris. The sounds of saws and hammers waxed and waned like the hum of cicadas in summer.

 

The Play Structure about 100 yards from its original position.

A right turn past a light colored cabin, the final leg of the road was before me. As I turned in to Connie’s drive, I glanced over my shoulder to the right. The lane into the wood was dappled in sunlight and beckoning to me. First order of the day-A golf cart ride to the waterfall!

I backed the golf cart out of the garage, wincing at the high-pitched siren it emitted when in reverse. Off! I went into the coolness of the woods. The sunlight was delightful as it danced on the leaves of the trees, falling to the forest floor in ever-changing patterns. A flash of red caught my attention. It did not look like a cardinal-my first thought. Camera in hand, I turned off the cart, slowed my movements, and waited. Soon the ruby flash was back in closer range of my camera. My second thought was correct; a Scarlet Tanager graced the woods of Fiddler’s Bend! I photographed the bird several times, then sat again nearer the waterfalls and watched butterflies on sunny mudflats. I was able to photograph them as well. The ‘falls‘ were rapidly flowing; Ebony, the black lab, took a dip. Shaking her fur as she came out of the water, droplets of water landed on a spiders web strung between two trees, revealing the arachnid’s handiwork. It shimmered in the light like spun crystal.

The "Waterfall"

Butterfly

Scarlet Tanager

I left the woods to drive around camp. The Illinois River was still up, but at least she was within her banks. I took a few pictures that captured the power of the river. This green home was carried across the park before it landed in the tangle of these two red cabins and play structure. I stopped at Vicki’s cabin to find her cleaning dishes soiled in the muddy flood waters. Two weeks have passed and many of her belongings remained outside her home, needing to be laundered or cleaned or tossed out. She joined me in the cart and we took the dogs for a run. Pippi ran through the cart as the cart was in motion, running around the front of the cart and back through over our feet again! I was so afraid I would run over her, but her timing was perfect! She is a funny little dog!

Connie's Front Porch

The temperature outside was pristine for relaxing in the hammock on Connie’s front porch-my next activity. I laid down about 3pm. I grabbed the short rope attached to the front porch post, and gave it a little tug, thus rocking the hammock enough to drift off to a comfortable and pleasant nap. I awoke when the sun was slipping over the hill about 6pm. When I realized the time, I must say I was a little disappointed: either I’d been left behind or the end of the world did not happen! Sam was already another day older, with there being an 8 hour difference in Cairo.




After the fresh air and a good nap, I was hungry. Connie had prepared her fabulous chicken salad and had left it in the refrigerator for me. It wasn’t long before I heard Connie motoring her way up the hill. It was so good to see her! We talked well into the night, catching up on our lives, taking up right where we’d left off in August! I thank the Lord for my precious friendship with her.

We awoke to a pretty day Sunday morning. We had a day ahead of us and lots of options as to how we could spend it... short road trip or a drive through the countryside...we could run over to Tulsa and do a little shopping...we could stay here and work on the garden around the birdbath or spring clean the front porch...we opted to clean and freshen the front porch. After the Easter Day flood, Connie had lots of people staying with her. The front porch was a popular gathering place where she served lunch to those who were cleaning up their cabins and homes after the disaster.


We removed everything, blew off the porch, spray painted the little wood side tables and washed all the knick knacks and cushions. As we worked, the clouds gathered gray overhead. We could hear the creeks flowing at the bottom of the hill and song birds caling in the woods. The river was going down, but the last thing we wanted to see was more rain! By late afternoon, drizzle gave way to rain as the skies darkened. We put our finishing touches on the porch about 6:30 pm, cleaned up our tools and went indoors to fix dinner.


Shortly after coming inside, I heard the sound of sheeting rain punctuated with sharp raps on the window. It was hailing! Oh NO! My ugly rental was sitting under the trees at the edge of Connie’s yard. The voice of the Enterprise Car Rental dealer ran through my head, “If you decline this coverage you are acknowledging that you are responsible for ANYTHING that happens to this vehicle.”


“Does that mean hail damage too?”, I wonder!” “Connie!”, I yell, “ Is there a safer place for me to park that car. It’s hailing!” She told me to park it on the road below her in Ronnie’s carport. I jumped into the car and drove through pelting rain and hail, praying, “please don’t let that one (large hail) leave a dent, or that one, or that one, please, Lord!” Already wet from the dash to the car, by the time I got to the top of the hill, I was soaked and wondering what made me crazy enough to run back through the storm. I could have waited for the hail to pass in the car! Likely, the rain would have lessened too....as I passed through the kitchen, Connie told me to dry off quickly as dinner was ready.


I dried off and dressed as quickly as I could. I sat on the bed for a second to pull on some socks. I could hear the wind picking up. It whistled and whined through the levered windows in my room. I glanced outside and saw some branches flying through the air. Then I heard it. The whistle. It was loud. THE WHISTLE! sounded like a train. The phone rang as I ran to the kitchen. “Connie! I think we're in a tornado!”

Connie was speaking, “ Mile marker 124. Tornado headed toward Flint Ridge. THAT’S US! I gotta go Carol! Thanks.”

I say to Connie, “I think there’s a tornado” while she is saying to me, “Kim, there’s a tornado coming right for us!”

“Where do we go?” I ask. “My closet she replied.” The house went dark. Pitch dark. The electricity was out. Connie’s house is nestled on the east side of a large hill; the sun leaves this glade long before it leaves the sky. It is so dark! I grabbed her hand. Neither one of us can see in the dark, but I can see more than she. I run into a chair. “Watch out for the chair,” I yelled. Connie heard, “bring the chair” so the three of us...me, Connie, and the chair made our way to her bedroom and into the closet. The roar was deafening. The modular home heaved and ratttled and shook, but held firm to its foundation. The closet was full of clothes, but somehow we were pressed among the shirts and slacks like one of them. I could smell the fabric softener in the clothing.


I was not afraid. There was no time for fear. It did not seem real. Tornados happen other places to other people!. Little did we know that Joplin, MO was experiencing a tornado of greatest magnitude. Little did we know that much destruction and loss of life had happened this same evening in that quiet little college town.


It was over quicker than we could get comfy in the closet! It was eerily still. Groping through the darkness of the house to the relative light of dusk outside, we could hear transformers and power lines cracking and popping. We heard water dripping from the house eaves and trees. We tried, but could not budge the kitchen door. We pulled and tugged and twisted and it would not open at all.The vacuum created by the tornado was greater than our combined strength.


We tried the phone. It worked! Connie called the power company and let them know our lights were out and why.

The root ball is taller than Vicki!

Some of these trees were 50-60 feet tall

The once shaded "Snob Hill"

Cautiously we stepped out into the rain-drenched yard and began to take stock of our surroundings. Mature trees were laid over like dominoes, their root balls exposed and perched perpendicular to the ground, some much larger than I am tall. Tree limbs torn from their trunks lay haphazardly across the yard, blocking the drive. Two chairs were gone from the porch where we had just placed them before going in to fix dinner. The freshly stained side tables were devoid of knick-knacks, candles, and coasters. The little wren’s house that used to hang from the corner of the porch was gone--the little wren fidgeting and fussing from tree branch to tree branch.

The drop in temperature was dramatic. It was much cooler than before the storm.

The dusk felt very green to me. We hollered for Carl, the man who stays in the trailer a short distance across the ravine from Connie’s house. I was afraid of what I could not see-namely downed wires. I did not think it was a good idea to be outside while lines were torn from their poles. I was really nervous about Connie walking around amongst the downed trees. Her night vision is worse than mine! We had survived a tornado with almost no warning, and I did not want to be found electrocuted! We called again and again for Carl. He didn’t answer.





It was surreal, as if time had come to a standstill and we had stepped into a movie set. Yesterday this draw was a restful, peaceful retreat. Tonight it was a shambles; chaotic and traumatized.” Now what do we do” I wondered? The electricity was out so we lit some candles and battery powered lanterns. We knew that Mr. Bill would have been happy to know we were using several of the flashlights he stocked the house with! (Bill always gave his loved ones and fortunate friends a flashlight for Christmas. It was his ‘thing.’)





Dinner was ready-though it had cooled some, it was still warm. Frito Chili Pie. As we ate we discussed what to do next...fill pails and milk jugs with water to flush the toilet. Feed the dog and cat. Find the weather radio. We went back outside with our flashlights. We set pails under the downspouts to catch the rain water. Connie still had several jugs full of water from the Easter Flood when their water was shut off and she had a house full of displaced people.

The Old Hickory Tree House lost the top
of its tree.

As the skies grew darker the trees took on monstrous forms. We splayed our flashlights around the yard. We could hear people talking. I could see their lights through the trees. They were hollering: “Halllooooo! Anyone there? Hallooooo!” over and over. I shone my light toward theirs while Connie and I responded with “ over here! Who’s out there?” We could hear them crashing through downed limbs and slogging through the wood’s leafy floor. Eventually they emerged from the woods, but we could’t see who they were for their headlamps were shining right at us, wiping out what little vision we had! We were expecting Steve and Kathy, but it was Search and Rescue who came looking for us! I was so glad to see them! When Connie asked about the others who were in camp this evening we were told everyone is accounted for and okay! Praise God! They did not have such a good report for the homes and cabins. Many are damaged beyond repair. Mrs. Fiddlers’ house lost its roof and she was injured by flying debris. Her friend’s car was smashed beneath a tree. Windows were broken at Steve and Kathy’s, and the Old Hickory Tree House lost the top of the hickory tree.


Our rescuers did not want us to stay the night in the cabin. Connie did not want to leave the cat and dog. I did not want to leave Connie. I was glad I was there with Connie. I cannot imagine going through that tornadic trauma alone! It took us awhile to sort out our options. They could take us to Jay to a shelter set up there, but not the animals...and that meant we would be without a vehicle.


The creek at the bottom of the hill near Connie’s house was dammed up by trees forming a small pond we had to wade through. We came up the bank on the other side through the iris bed in front of George and Sandy’s blue cabin. Something was strange though...the cabin sat closer to the bank than it had before.


It took us 45 minutes to pick our way out from Connie’s to the front of the camp where we could drive out. We had to contend with a maze of downed trees and electric poles, loose wires, now dead, and unfamiliar, muddy landscape. The Search and Rescue Team helped us over trees, around debris and gave us encouraging moral support. Several times our path was blocked so we retraced our route and tried another way out. Darkness had fallen like a thick blanket with no stars to light our path. It was disorienting. The familiar was distorted. Everything about this night was foreign.


Vicki had parked her car up the road under a house so it was drivable. Her home had been hard hit by the previous flood. She had pulled everything out into the yard to dry out. She had been working the past two weeks on cleaning and drying out the home. As she cleaned items, she brought them back into the house. Some of her things would never make it back into the house now. They blew away!


We decided not to go to Jay. We thanked our rescuers, assuring them we would be okay going to Siloam Springs for the night. Me, Vicki, Debbie, and Connie piled into Vicki’s car with 3 dogs and a cat. We spent the night at a very nice, clean budget hotel that accepted our animals and us in our disheveled states, even though we probably woke them up as it was close to midnight when we checked in!


By Monday morning, I was getting hungry! In the flurry of activity surrounding our rescue, I left my wallet on the little antique table inside the door at Connie’s house. Between the four of us, we had $10 so we drove through McDonald’s and bought breakfast off the dollar menu! Then we drove the 8 miles back to Fiddler’s Bend. We were able to drive into camp as far as Vicki’s house.

Topsy Turvy Play Structure

What the dark of night invisiblized, the light of day revealed. Connie and I gawked at the downed trees and electric poles, broken windows, smashed, overturned cabins, the topsy turvy play yard already displaced by the earlier flood--- and debris everywhere! Connie and I tried to retrace our exact steps from last night’s rescue back to her house but found we could not. How we wrangled our way past everything is a mystery to me!






Ebony, the black lab, and Pepper, the tiger-stripped cat were waiting for us on the porch of Connie’s house. We were so happy to see them! They were overjoyed to see us! The house was dark so we lit candles and put flashlights where we would remember them. Connie made several phone calls as did I, to let our loved ones know our situation. Because Connie’s phone line came over the mountain behind her house, we could still use her land line. Vicki called her daughter who drove up to take Vicki’s two little dogs home with her.

Sheets of Rain Falling off Connie's Porch

It began to rain. We filled milk jugs with water from the roof runoff. We could flush the toilet for several days with the water we collected! The house was getting stuffy with the humidity of the rain, and darker as the day grew long. What to do?

We ate left over chili frito pie and discussed our options: Take a road trip for a couple of days--head up to Kansas City? Connie could come with me to the wedding in Missouri-I knew Karen wouldn’t mind? Stay here and see what we can do once the rain abates? We have propane and bottled water, and we can flush the toilet now. We still had the phone though no lights or electricity. We COULD tough it out for a while. I was ready to leave, but Connie thought we would be okay. I did not want to leave her alone so I stayed. I understood that she did not want to leave the animals alone. They had been through a tornado as well!


We kept in close phone contact with Vicki, who at a couple of points, thought she would go back to town. With the rain falling now, no water or electricity, there was not much she could do at her cabin. Weather reports were indicating rain all afternoon. Now we had a concern that the river might rise again! Because of the earlier flood, almost everything Vicki had was outside her home in wet boxes, black trash bags, or lying in the sunny area of the yard. The tornado took away a lot of that. Some of the larger furniture items remained so she tied down everything she could When she ran out of rope, she used appliance cords to tie her things together. She had an adventurous tale of her own: She made it to the bathroom as the tornado hit. She said she experienced wind from all angles; she felt like she was in the middle of a whirlwind. Winds were coming through the floor boards and vents, swirling around her, shaking her up and down and side to side. Her home creaked and groaned as the tornado passed through. Vicki had been airing out her wet cabin with all the doors and windows open. She thinks that is why she did not fly away like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz!


My vehicle was confined to the carport by fallen tree limbs. I could not see any damage to the car! Connie’s driveway was blocked by trees and debris; her car was in the garage. Since we could not get our cars out we considered hitching a ride with Vicki when she went to Siloam Springs. If we went, we would have to slog through the ponded creek water and slippery mud, carrying our bags with us. I had 2 30-pound carry on bags since the airline I was on charged per checked bag...I wished I had my ‘go’ bag from Egypt that was a carry on which converts to a back pack! It would be another tough walk out to get to Vicki’s car!


I decided that I DID want to go ahead and leave the following day. Vicki and Connie had each other for support and there was not one thing I could do at the moment to help. The river was just the first stop on my agenda en route to my niece, Heather’s wedding. I thought I could still stop and see Sam’s parents if I left Tuesday.


Before she went into Siloam Springs Monday night, Vicki said she would come get me the next morning and take me to meet my inlaws, if I could be at her cabin by 8am in the morning, with all of my stuff. I decided I could do that!


The rain continued to fall. The creek at the foot of Connie’s hill began to pond deeper. It was getting dark. As we surveyed the creek, I wondered if I would even be able to walk out in the morning to catch a ride with Vicki. We listened to the radio in the darkness of Connie’s living room. We felt cut off from the world.

We knew one thing: we weren’t going anywhere this night! With nothing else to do in the dark, we speculated, “Tomorrow, maybe the creek water below will recede and we can walk out,” we reasoned. Or, “we can float our bags across on the creek in a tub to keep them dry if we have to wade out.” The forecast called for more rain and severe storms for Tuesday! I went to bed uneasy. I was afraid. I recited that God did not give me a spirit of fear but of courage and strength and might. I recalled that Jesus said that he would never leave me nor forsake me. I thought about how the scriptures say he is a mighty bulwark, and right now I could use a strong boat!) my anchor, my rock, and my comforter. I remembered my iPod with its Praise and Worship music and dug it out of my bag by flashlight. I put the little white earbuds in my ears and then, on second thought, removed one of them in case I might miss the sound of another storm bearing down upon us. About 10 pm I fell asleep and slept soundly until lights from outdoors lit up the room! Indistinguishable shadows formed on the walls and floors. I looked at the clock. It read 2:03 am.

We were going to be rescued again! My first thought was that I did not want to get out of bed. I was tired. I was warm and cozy. My second thought was that perhaps they weren’t rescuers at all, but looters under the cover of darkness! Again, I was afraid. The adrenalin surge jolted me wide awake and trepidation turned my body to stone. I did not know whether to try to hide or shout out, “ here we are!” After a lengthy moment, I stood up to the window and peeped out at the light. My fear faded as I realized the light was coming from the MOON! The moon was casting shadows in my room. The clouds were parting and the moon was shining! The rain had stopped! We would be able to walk out in the morning...or at least soon! I laid back down in my comfy bed and praised the lord. For his protection, his strength, his promise to always stay with me. I was so excited I could not sleep. Then, I returned to my iPod, but not for comforting hymns...no--- for a game of sudoku to put me back to sleep! Finally about 3:30, my eyes were heavy and I fell asleep again.

Tuesday, Connie and I woke up about 6:30 am to a little bit of sunshine slipping in and out of the clouds. I told Connie I was ready to leave. I told her, “I think it is foolish to stay if there is to be more rain and the possibility that the river will flood again.” She agreed, but was in a quandary about what to do about the animals.


The phone rang. It was Vicki. She had come back to pick me up, but WAIT!  she was calling early. She said she was sitting in her car and she was halted by the rising waters of the Illinois River on the road to the entrance of Fiddler’s Bend! She could not get us out because she could not get in to the camp! The river was flooding! This was not in the weather report we heard last night! My heart sank.


I felt helpless. There were downed trees and power lines all around us and my rental car was blocked in the car port by two large trees! And the river was rising! My car was likely to be flooded. I felt deflated. I had moved the car to keep it safe from the hail, and now it would certainly be flooded! Steve and Kathy live in an old hickory tree (house) on the bend of the river. They have good views of the river in both directions so we called them for a River Report. Our communication with Steve and Kathy was working! They gave us the serious news that the river was out of her banks and rising. Steve predicted that this flood could be as bad or worse than the Easter Day flood when the river crested at 28 feet above normal!. If this prediction was true, my rented vehicle would be flooded for certain! We told Steve of our predicament with the car and asked if he could come help us get my car to safety. He had work of his own to do on his home, boarding up windows and moving items to higher ground.


Connie, who had been so unemotional, teared up and told me that today is her daughter, Trish’s birthday! She hadn’t talked to her for days. I poured us a couple of glasses of bottled water. We toasted Trish and sang Happy Birthday through our tears. It reminded me that I had evacuated from Egypt’s revolution on Megan’s birthday. I knew how she felt.


Connie and I heard the scrape of a boat’s bow on pavement as we walked down to look at my car. Steve and Kathy arrived via canoe with a chain saw to see if they could remove the debris so I could move my car to higher ground! Bless them! Though the saw had a dull chain, Steve was able to make the cuts to the tree so we could back the vehicle out to higher ground. He didn’t have enough power to remove the trees blocking Connie’s drive. We could not have gotten out of camp even if he had removed them. My car would be okay unless the creek to the north also rose.


Concern for our safety began to nag at us. We had maybe a dozen water bottles left with clean water. We still had batteries and flashlights and candles. And food. But the forecast was for more rain and more severe storms.


I was back in the bedroom when the thought came to me that she should call her elder at church. Maybe he would know someone who could help with the animals if we could get them out. She would need a place to stay that was close by. Maybe they would know of someone with a home she could use. I walked into the kitchen as Connie walked out of her bedroom. “ I am going to call my elder,” she said. “I don’t know why I did not think of this yesterday, “ she continued. AHA! Great minds think alike! She called Mark. She told him of our situation and that she would leave if she had someplace to go. She added that she has a cat and a dog. She told him we were flooded in and that we had tornado damage.


He called her back within 20 minutes! He had a home for her to stay in and she could bring the animals. AND, Vicki and her animals could stay with them too! AND they would bring chain saws to help us get some trees cleared. Praise God, from whom all blessings flow! We praised and thanked the Lord for these courageous men with servants’ hearts, and for the Lord's Provision!


While Connie packed her bag, I checked things off the list we had made earlier that morning. Meds, clothes, toiletries, etc. We had our bags packed and by the door so that when they came, we would be ready.


That done, we decided to see if we could use the gas powered golf cart to get us down to the creek. We got down on the road about the time our rescuers arrived, chain saws in hand! Boy, were we glad to see them. Glad to see them, but dismayed to see that the flood waters had risen to about a foot or more in the now-empty car port where only a short time ago, my car was parked!

Three men from Connie’s church who are also house parents at Cookson Hills came with saws and gas to get us out. They had passed Vicki who was waiting at the edge of the flood waters to see us come out. She saw the river rise two feet in 8 minutes while she was waiting.









Steve, Steve and Mark made short work of clearing the trees and debris from Connie’s drive. Then I drove my car to the highest ground available to safety! We put the golf cart away, cleaned out the freezer and refrigerator while the men made a trip out with our bags, the saws, gas and the cat, Pepper. The wild animals would surely make short work of the chicken and beef and frozen fruits we threw into the ravine. We did not want the food to rot in the freezer and fridge! What a shame to throw away all that food!

While the river continued to rise, the three men made their way back to us. Vicki had made a request. Could we stop by her inundated cabin and try to get her cat out? She was on the second floor. Steve told  her he would try.

We got into the boats-me into the canoe, and Connie and Ebony, the dog, into the flat bottom boat. I was not afraid until Steve asked if we had life jackets. We did not. We stopped at McKinney’s cabin and checked if they had any on their porch. They did not. But they did had an oar so we borrowed that. Steve had broken one on the way in to get us. This would give each of us a paddle! Steve told me what to do, how to move the paddle; where to put it and how fast to go. Going out was unnerving without a life jacket! It reminded me of a scene from The African Queen where Humphrey Bogart is pulling the boat through the swamp and leaves from trees are hanging down, touching the green water. It looked like a swamp or a jungle as we passed through and under tree branches! Steve said I could take pictures on the way out, so I did. I had never experienced anything like this flood!

The next set of photos document the homes we passed as we canoed past on our way to safety.

My View From the Front of the Canoe

Unbelievable!

Still Water Runs Deep

The River Flows By

Underwater  Topsy Turvy Play Structure 

Blue Cabin

The Current is Swift Here

The water was deep and swift. We stayed close to the banks until time to move over to Vicki’s house. We let our boat catch the current and drift back towards the cabin. Steve maneuvered the canoe to the second story porch. I grabbed a porch rail and hung on. The water swirled in eddies around the tree trunks and cabins. We passed submerged dumpsters full of debris from the Easter Flood. Water filled the cabins to their roof lines in the park area of Fiddler’s Bend. Debris from the tornado’s destruction floated past us. An oily film with a diesel odor clung to everything it came in contact with.

Vicki's house flooded to the 2nd floor. 

Steve gave me the choice of looking for the cat or holding the canoe to the rail. I chose the rail. Steve climbed over the railing and was gone for several minutes. He came out empty handed. My heart broke for Vicki. The cat had escaped to a crawl space behind the bath tub and would not come out for him! I was so sad. I knew Vicki was hoping to be reunited with her kitty and as the river was still rising, there was no assurance her cabin would stay on its foundation! Getting back to the slower part of the river was tricky, but Steve is an expert canoeist. I had faith he would get us to safety!

The white thing you see is the top of a county dump truck.
The blue canoe is resting against the tailgate.

We passed the entrance to Spencer’s Creek. There
was no Spencer’s Creek. All the cabins were underwater. The river went as far as my eye could see. It covered the meadow where Connie’s garden should have been. A blue canoe bearing Spencer’s logo was bobbing against something submerged on what would have been the road. It was a county dump truck! The lights were still on, but the entire vehicle was under water!

Spencer's Ridge Canoes Floating Free

I could see where the road entered the water up ahead. What else I saw was a surprise!

Men and vehicles from two fire and rescue departments, the sheriff from Kansas, OK, and Fox 23 news were there to greet us. The camera was rolling as we exited the boats. The reporter asked me a few questions and I directed him to Connie; after all, this was her home, her world that had been shattered. I was a mere visitor! Two ladies from the Red Cross were there as well. They had stopped and bought sandwiches, drinks and chips for us and the rescuers. They were willing to take us anywhere we needed to go. We thanked them and told them that Mark and his wife, Beth were providing a warm meal and place for us to stay. Beth had the house in Flint Ridge open and ready for Vicki, Connie, Me, two cats and a dog to stay. As she opened the door to let us in, we could smell the spicy aroma of chili! Best smell in the world, that day!

Mark and Beth are remarkable Christians with precious servant’s hearts. They are house parents to nine girls at Cookson Hills Children’s Home. They use this Flint Ridge home for people who need some place to stay. They said they had no idea how it would work out, but God brings them people who stay for a night to a week or longer sometimes. There is a steady use of the house. It was and is a huge blessing!

I had called Sam’s mom and dad to see if they could come get me. They live a short distance away from Fiddler’s Bend so they were glad to do it. I ate and showered-a shower never felt so good- and then Vicki and Connie took me to Kansas, Ok to the tourist center where De and Shirley picked me up. I was happy to see them. I wasn’t sure I was going to get out of Fiddler’s Bend in time to see them, let alone get to the wedding! I headed off to Grove as Vicki and Connie went to buy some supplies they needed.

Though we were out of danger at the river, this night would still be fraught with storms. I watched the weather channel in Grove. At one point, they issued a warning for Kansas, OK. I knew Connie did not have TV service where she was so I called to tell her she should move to the closet. She had been in bed and decided she would stay there...Until she immediately got several more calls from friends who were also watching the news. She took her chair, a flashlight, and a book to the closet where she obediently waited out the storm.*

Connie asked me later if I was afraid. I told her no, and then yes. I was afraid when the moon lit up my room and I was afraid when I got in the canoe without a life jacket. But those fears were fleeting. The tornado came and went too quick to know fear, but there was plenty of cause to be anxious. God gave me courage and peace and comfort and protection in each situation we faced that weekend. Connie continues to live in his provision and care relying on him daily for strength and for him to meet her needs. I am blessed to have such a friend as she!

*Added note. Almost six months have passed since the devastating tornado and floods. Connie and Vicki continue to live in temporary housing.  Clean up has started and will be extensive and expensive. Debris and trees must be removed in order for the electric company to erect new poles and string new wires. Water lines will have to be retrenched and connected. Many residents have lost their permanent homes and more have lost their recreational homes. In the heat of summer, a burn ban further dashed hopes of returning by summer’s end.

Fiddler's Bend has a heart. It is the heart of the people who fish from her river, who play on her rocky shores, who join in the potlucks on the point, who dress up their golf carts and parade them on the 4th of July, who hold weddings, and receptions,  reunions and Halloween parties for the kids in her park. It is in the "Concerts in the Old Hickory Tree House." It is in a cup of coffee shared, a campfire encircled and in the funny and heart warming stories of those residents who are now on the "other side of the river."  Yes, Fiddler's Bend has a heart and I am thankful to have experienced it! May she rise from the ashes for future generations to enjoy!

**The same night we experienced the tornado in Fiddler’s Bend, Joplin, Mo. was hit by an F5 tornado that took over 122 lives and injured over 750 people. My heart goes out to their community.