10 years ago this month – The Great Flood of 2011 peaked at midnight, May 19

I was there and still remember the entire event from my view at the Historic Klondyke Trading Post on North Washington Street.

The front door of the Klondyke, May 2011. Photo by Ritch E Southard, used with permission.

At midnight on May 19, the water reached the top of the bottom step on the old camp trailer behind the Klondyke. I’ll never forget touching that step at midnight and water washing over it. That was the peak, 57.1 feet above grade. The 30 days prior to that were pure hell and we had no way to know the next 6 months wouldn’t be much better.

In April a bunch of people from the government was out placing markers and measuring things. Bright orange spray paint was all over the roadway and grass to mark elevations. We have one of the geodetic markers at the Klondyke and a bright plastic line was tied in a large bow above it so surveyors could easily find the marker and use it to triangulate their elevation. All of those experts tried to warn me several times about the flood and how it was coming my way. They suggested I get sandbags and even told me the best place to lay them out and how to lay them out.

I ignored them all.

David and Rhonda Day (Photo by Mike Woodrick)

We had just recovered from the Great Recession and were in good shape. We didn’t owe anyone money except the note on the building, business was booming and the flood brought us a packed lunch every day. We were closing by 7 p.m. every night and usually sold out of food by 3 or 4 every afternoon selling only beer to the workers getting off at the harbor or the locals who had been coming there since their daddy brought them there. A couple of them offered to help lay sandbags.

I assured them we were going to be fine. The marker for the peak of the flood was just below our outside front step and the back step was higher than that. About a week before the flood was going to hit one of our regulars mentioned the south end of the building might be underwater because it sits lower than the doorstep. That was a good point and a quick call from a friend to a friend made us realize no one had sand or the sand that was available was as expensive as gold. Calls were made to everyone and I was unable to get sand and even less willing to pay a premium for it.

Unbeknownst to me, my wife went behind my back and came up with a small truckload of sand – more than we would need.  I still love her and all but it did kind of hurt my massive male ego.

Sandbags were another issue altogether. No one had them. Somewhere in my mind, I had come to believe in situations like this the Federal or State government would come to assist you, help you place sandbags or whatever was needed and we would all work together, sing Kumbaya and eat flaming marshmallows around the campfire.

That didn’t happen.

The Klondyke under water, May 2011. Photo by Penny Miller, used with permission.

If you own a small business and a flood is approaching, you are on your own. You either make it or you don’t. No one really cares and all kinds of predators are watching your situation, working out how they will operate your business once you fail or what they will do with your property. It is vicious. Thank goodness we had loyal customers and good friends. In a time like that you are, indeed, the friend in need. Regardless, we were used to doing it ourselves and have been self-reliant our whole lives. It was going well. We had this.

Pfft.

About 15 minutes into making sandbags I realized I didn’t have this. It is tough to get the sand into the bag and you have to get the right amount in there. Too much and the bag won’t seal and won’t flex to stop the flow of water. Not enough and you’ve just wasted your time and will use a lot of bags. We also needed several hundred of them, if not thousands and this boy wasn’t 20 anymore.

My wife had already called for help by the time my diminished ego allowed me to admit we couldn’t do it on our own. Pretty soon 4 young men showed up from the Rescue Mission and began to bag that sand. Within a few hours, we had a wall built on the south end of the building. Take that Mother Nature.

My wife is beautiful. Sometimes a guy will mention how pretty she is to me, other times I will catch a guy clearly thinking it but looking away when I see him noticing it. What they don’t know is her beauty is throughout. During the flood she solved problems my male fragility would have let remain. She did so while making me think it wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t urge her to do it.

During the worst part of the flood while I was hunkered down all alone in the camp trailer behind the Klondyke the greatest ray of sunshine was her showing up at the nearby hillside with a thermos full of hot coffee and a bright smile. An angel brought me coffee, held my hand during the worst of it and worked as hard as me, if not harder afterward to keep the business going. Back to the flood…

A guy from the Corp came through and explained that we were in the backwater and the water level gauges were at the bridge over I-20. Our position in the backwater was about a foot above that so we should add about a foot to the projection. It was devastating news because it meant the floodwaters were going to come into the Klondyke. About 6 inches to be exact.

A couple of days after that they closed the intersection at First East and Washington cutting off traffic going north and cutting us off from business. We still had the traffic coming from the north, but that wasn’t much. We made a couple of calls, gave the rescue mission our perishable food inventory and moved a couple of things in a freezer or two to a friend’s garage. We were effectively out of business until the flood receded. We had no income and no way to make any money because I had to be at the Klondyke to keep the pumps pumping and the generator going. Also, there were no guarantee looters wouldn’t sneak in if we left the building unattended.

My wife on the other hand managed to make some money with space in a shop trading furniture and other found treasures. She truly is an amazing person on top of being beautiful.

The floodwaters slowly covered the intersection of Washington and First East. Then they began creeping towards the Klondyke. When the waters got within a couple of inches of the power pole Entergy killed the power to the Klondyke. The eerie silence of being in the middle of an island became reality. We placed a bunch of sandbags around the doors to the Klondyke and we were relatively certain we could keep the water out. Even if some water did come inside it would be water that filtered through the sandbags and inundated the south end of the building. If that happened the plan was to run tap water on the floor to equalize the pressure and keep the floodwaters outside. Smart.

Sunday night the bags were holding and the inside was dry so I ran to the house to get a shower. I was exhausted from all the work keeping the Klondyke secure and sat on the couch for a moment before heading back. When I awoke on Monday morning I immediately went to the Klondyke to find there were about 5 inches of water inside the building. Our best plans were for naught. The parking lot was full of water and the view was surreal.

A friend offered some pumps and we set up what we could to remove the water. In spite of our best efforts water was still seeping into the building at a rapid rate. My job of sealing the building in preparation was, apparently, woefully inadequate. Once a day we shut down all the pumps and generators for maintenance. It was completely silent there when we did. It was during one of these shutdown quiet periods we heard running water. We started searching for the sound and discovered the water was rushing into the building from the hole in the wall made for the old bell rope used at gas stations. Older folks will remember the black rope that rang a bell inside the building when you drove over it at the pumps. It would alert the people inside you were there and needed gas. They would come out, fill your gas, check your oil, clean your windshield, put air in the tires, and be polite in their neatly prepped uniform. It was a different time.

Flooding at the old train depot, May, 2011

That hole in the wall was the cause of all the water coming into the build. We grabbed a couple of plastic bags, stuffed them into the hole and once we pumped that water out, the inside of the Klondyke remained dry for the remainder of the flood.

In spite of our economic uncertainty and our business being literally underwater, it was hard to not notice the beauty around us. There is a beauty about a flood and there is something about water that calms us. This flood was no different. I remember watching the egrets and cranes standing in the floodwaters on Washington Street as they carefully studied the waters for movement. I would grab the binoculars and zoom in on them. I remember, with great clarity, their elegant form. At one point, late in the day with the sun glistening and reflecting in the waters, an eagle swooped overhead and swirled upward in a single graceful move.

That is a sight everyone should see at least once. It was the first time for me and I took it as a good omen.

Just after midnight, Thursday, May 19, the flood was set to peak and it did. The Corp of Engineers had done a remarkable job projecting the elevation and time the flood would peak.

After that it went down rapidly. By the weekend the water was off the lot and by Monday Entergy turned the power back on in our building.

We soon reopened with almost no inventory and it was just my loving and supportive wife and myself. Over the next six months, people who had gotten used to driving the long way began to return driving up North Washington but business was extremely slow. Our landlords, Eddie and Janelle Cook were godsends. They forgave rent for a couple of months, paid the property taxes at the end of the year and encouraged us with kind words of support, talking about the challenges they faced when they owned the Klondyke.

Even so, paying the bills was tough and the future wasn’t real bright. After being there forever, it looked like this genius was going to be the guy that caused the Klondyke to go out of business.

Chris Whittington and Tommy Parker had started the Vicksburg Daily News earlier in 2011 and it was wildly popular. I wrote stories for them from time to time. We talked about me coming on full time to run the business aspect of things but Whittington wasn’t comfortable giving up the level of control I felt was necessary for the effort to survive. Regardless, we maintained a good relationship and through a friend of a friend he made contact with the folks who were working with Andrew “Bizarre Foods” Zimmern. Zimmern was working with Toyota on a digital program “for good” where Zimmern would travel to locations, cook and eat there and do a feel-good show. It was all digital and one of Toyota’s first efforts to promote an all-digital production.

Chris Whittington was a master of many things and one of the smartest people on the planet. He somehow landed the show on the basis of them coming to the flood-ravaged Klondyke.

It changed everything for us. In spite of the best efforts of some to co-opt the show and divert them to the ‘more acceptable’ locations in town, Andrew Zimmern was coming to the Klondyke. It was huge. Hundreds of people showed up for the production and the chance to get on camera and meet Zimmern. They spent a couple of days with us prior to Zimmern getting there and the camera guy, Max, was really fond of my wife. Hey, what’s not to love. When you’re married to a beautiful woman you either trust her or you go crazy. The beautiful Rhonda was featured prominently and looked like a real movie star. It was wonderful to see her glow again.

The show was a huge hit, well attended locally but more importantly, put the Klondyke back on the local food radar. Business boomed again after that. The video was seen several million times within a couple of weeks and people from all over the country dropped by to eat at the increasingly famous Klondyke.

10 years later a lot of things have changed.

Downtown Vicksburg went from a ghost town to a booming, thriving space with beautifully renovated buildings and businesses doing well. The Vicksburg Daily News has taken over the news business in town with a hardworking staff producing local news from local folks. It remains Vicksburg’s only locally owned news source with millions of ad views each month.

Rhonda and I sold the Klondyke in October of last year so she could mellow on the porch at the lake. She remains active all the time and her creative side is making art she will use to take over the world soon. Her husband is encouraging her to day-drink more often but she remains resolute.

Flooding, on the other hand, remains an issue. Historic rains have decayed hills all over Warren County. The Backwater Flood of 2019 devastated the South Delta but the future is bright. The New Yazoo Backwater Pump project has been approved by the EPA and despite a lawsuit from national conservation groups it looks like the project will proceed.

Check out our story on the MWF supporting the pumps.

My first flood ever changed my life and my view on life. I understood, for the first time, I was part of a village and when the going got rough, Vicksburg gets going. We live in one of the most remarkable places on the planet with amazing people, unique and breathtaking vistas and a robust and growing economy. If another flood comes I’ll be sure to help whichever of my friends are in need just as I know this community will do.