Flood of 2008: And in a town not so far away

By Barb Ickes | Tuesday, June 17, 2008

For an entire mile on westbound Interstate 80 out of Davenport on Monday, we didn’t see another vehicle.

Almost as strange to find such a ghost-town feel on a normally congested interstate was the conversation we had with an Iowa State Patrol trooper at the Tipton exit detour.

Trooper Erik Fitzer was one of three assigned to redirecting drivers off the interstate and around the flooded section of the Cedar River that was lying across I-80 at Atalissa.

“You’d be amazed at the number of people who don’t even know there’s a flood,” he said. “And some of them have actually been from Iowa.”

About an hour after we navigated the detour, I-80 was reopened, which meant our return trip from the devastated town of Columbus Junction would be shorter. It also meant we would get an eyeful of the bloated Cedar River.

But it was little Columbus Junction that stayed with me.

We arrived in the high school gym for the Columbus Community Schools about the same time Iowa Gov. Chet Culver was supposed to get there. He was taking a several-city tour of the soggy state in a Blackhawk helicopter, and his 4:15 p.m. stop was Columbus Junction.

A little better than 100 of us waited in the gym, listening to Mayor Dan Wilson give a pep talk on what a great job the community had done during its five-day battle with the Iowa River. Even though the levees didn’t hold, he assured, the town hadn’t lost.

“We didn’t get beat,” he insisted. “We may not have accomplished everything we wanted to, but don’t go home thinking we lost.”

The gym erupted briefly in applause, and the mayor disappeared outside to check on the governor. But just a couple minutes later, another voice came to the microphone, telling everyone in the gym to head outside to the football field.

There evidently had been some confusion. Times photographer Jeff Cook had been standing next to Culver when the mayor urged him into the gym to talk to the waiting townspeople.

“How many?” Culver asked the mayor of the headcount in the gym. When Wilson exaggerated by about 100 people, the governor headed our way, and the result was an impromptu gathering above the football field — with the blades of the Blackhawk swirling in the background.

“We’re gonna keep up this fight,” the governor promised. “When it comes time for recovering, we’re going to win this battle in the long-term, statewide.

“Just stay together. Hang in there, and we will do everything we can.”

As Culver made his way back to the chopper, he stopped to shake all the hands that were poked in his path and sought out more. Many in the crowd put their hands to their foreheads to block the beating sun as they watched the large, lumbering craft lift gracefully off the football field.

Dozens of people pointed their cell phones at the field, capturing images to store in their phones along with the flood pictures.

“Everybody’s blown away by the helicopter landing here like that,” said Debbi Hills, of Columbus Junction. “You can criticize our government all you, but they’re here when you need them. They’ve certainly been here for us.”

And she wasn’t kidding.

In a parking lot between the football field and the high school sat four oddly shaped pods that appeared to hold water.

“They’re for drinking water, and they’re called onion skins because of the way they look,” Army National Guard Staff Sgt. Robert Schluns eagerly explained. “They make good swimming pools, too.”

The Clinton, Iowa, native, serving with the 1555th Quartermaster Company, said he never had been to Columbus Junction and, in fact, never even heard of the town.

“But I’ve been living in one of the grade-school classrooms for the past couple of days, and the people are incredible,” he said. “If you go in at 3 in the afternoon and say, ‘I missed lunch,’ you’ll have five women running around to feed you.”

But gratitude was everywhere.

In nearly every storefront window in the old downtown hung handmade signs that read, “Thanks!” or “Gracias!” or “Thank you.” And just behind the row of brick businesses was the reason for all the commotion: The floodwater that surrounded and spilled over the bridge along Iowa 92, inundating business after business.

From his watch at the water’s edge, Louis Pollmeier of the Mount Pleasant-based 832nd Engineering Company gave me an odd look when I asked about looting at the Economart grocery store that was about one-third covered in water.

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” he said. “The windows broke out from the force of the water. We’re here to keep people safe.”

When asked how long he’d been looking out for folks, he replied, “What day is it?”

He then explained, almost apologetically, how the levee breaches happened: “We gave it our best shot. Once the water started washing out the rail bed, there was nothing we could do. There was no point.”

And then, of all things, he thanked us for coming.

Barb Ickes can be contacted at (563) 383-2316 or bickes@qctimes.com.