As flooding continues, Missouri ponders how to prepare for the next one

Linda Thorne peered out the back of her trailer near here Monday night to find water sloshing up the wooden steps.

She had thought she would be safe from the rising floodwaters. But at that point she knew she had to go.

By Thursday, most of the trailer and many of the valuables she had left behind were submerged. And Thorne, 60, who had expected to be at a hospital welcoming the birth of her first great-grandchild, instead found herself stuck under the pale fluorescent lights of a gym at a Baptist church that had become a Red Cross shelter.

“I was devastated,” she said Thursday, reflecting on the valuables and keepsakes she left behind: Mickey Mouse figurines and dolls she wanted to give to her grandchildren; a $400 set of cast iron pans; two Damascus blade knives with hand-carved bone handles that were gifts from a friend.

“I didn’t know I was going to lose everything,” she added, her face red and ragged.

Like Thorne, many people in this part of the Mississippi River basin near St. Louis have come to accept that flooding is a part of life. But the damage this time has been so severe, and the river levels so high, that vexing questions have again been raised about whether anything can be done to truly ease the threat of the volatile and unpredictable rivers around here.

Can greater defenses be erected? Should homes be vaulted on stilts? Or is it time for some communities to pack up and leave?

Officials in Missouri and Illinois have blamed flooding for the deaths of 21 people, many of them motorists who tried to cross flooded roads.

The worst flooding struck towns along the Meramec River, southwest of St. Louis. The flooding shattered records, forced the evacuation of thousands of people, swallowed whole neighborhoods and turned others into islands.

About 20 minutes up the road in Valley Park, the Meramec crested Thursday morning at more than 28 feet above flood stage, 4.4 feet above the record set there in 1982. By Thursday night, the crest had flowed into the Mississippi River, but the Meramec was expected to stay well above flood stage for several days.

“We know the floods are coming,” said Michael D. Polizzi, the mayor of nearby Fenton, which has also seen record flooding in recent days. “It’s a way of life for a lot of people. But when it infringes with this new high level into homes that have never been flooded, then that does have a concern for us.

“I think Mother Nature knows its job,” he added. “You can hold it back for a while, but gradually, it wins. Most of what you do is temporary until Mother Nature says, ‘I’ve had enough.’ ”

Maybe – just maybe – Thorne said, this misfortune was God’s way of telling her, Enough. Her children had long been asking her to move out of the trailer home, which is in an unincorporated part of Jefferson County near Arnold, she said. They had wanted her to move into a more populated part of town.

“It’s going to be a new year, and God wants me to open my horizons,” said Thorne, who was a housewife and lives off the disability checks of her husband, who died four years ago.

For now, the way forward remains far from Thorne’s mind. She is still shaking off the shock of what has happened.

After three days of heavy, steady rain pounded the region, she watched the news Monday and heard that floods were coming. She looked in the distance to see the Meramec creeping ever so slowly through the woods toward her mobile home. Yet she was confident it would be safe.

Her landlord had erected a 5-foot levee along the trailer park, she said. And she remembered a few years back when her home remained dry, even though the river climbed to 38.5 feet.

She still took precautions, buying 2 tons of sand for $40 to fill 200 bags donated by the Fire Department to create a small barrier along the edge of the park of about 15 to 20 mobile homes.

It was not until late Monday, when she saw the water lapping at her steps, heard it gurgling beneath the trailer and saw it engulfing an adjacent shed, that she started to think this was serious. And even then, it took a neighbor’s encouragement before she decided to leave.

So she disconnected her computers and packed whatever she could – boots, clothes – into four boxes and two suitcases. Her eldest son, who lives with her, stuffed all he could into two black rolling suitcases. They sent their Chinese pug and their two cockatiels off with friends. Whatever they could not remove, they stacked on beds and desks.

Then they prayed that the water would not rise too high.

They did save some of their other valuables when two of Thorne’s sons – she has five children total – came over Tuesday and Wednesday to haul out some items that had been left. Before the water was too high, she made sure that one of her daughters went back to fetch an angel ornament from the Christmas tree. The daughter had bought her the ornament when they went to see a production of “The Nutcracker” at a local high school auditorium.

On Thursday morning, Thorne returned to the park to assess the damage but could not get very close. About half of the trailer was consumed in what looked like a lake; her blue minivan next to it was covered almost to the roof.

“My daughter had to grab me because I wanted to run into the water and grab what I could,” Thorne said.

Mostly what Thorne has now is a pile of donated blankets on the cot she is sleeping on at the shelter. And her favorite drinking cup – a plastic Mason jar with a red straw – that she also made sure to tell her daughter to grab.

And, yes, as the calendar changes to a new year, there is even still a little bit of optimism.

“A bad ending,” Thorne said, swiping her left hand through the air, “and a new bright. …”

She paused, then continued: “Hopefully, beginning.”

This story was originally published December 31, 2015 at 2:51 PM with the headline "As flooding continues, Missouri ponders how to prepare for the next one."