Memories of the March 1937 Flood

 

Here is an interesting first hand experience of remembering the flood in 1937, shared with us by our local Crittenden Countian, Helen Carter Springs.   Helen passed away several years ago, but her story is still remembered.  The Tom Carter family home was located on the Hebron Church Road, where Tommy and Evelyn Carter lived for many years and who still own the farm. The Ohio River was located directly behind their home.  Helen wrote these memories in April of 2011, when another historic flood and hit Crittenden County and surrounding counties as well.

 

Helen as a young girl and later in life when she shared these memories.

MEMORIES OF THE 1937 FLOOD, by Helen Carter Springs.

The new year of 1937 came in at a very rainy time in January. I had received a work-study scholarship to Murray State beginning the second semester. Before time for me to go to Murray State it began raining, and rained for days, so much so that the rivers and creeks all overflowed and the routes to Murray were closed. 

 

The radio stations were playing the newly released song, “Pennies from Heaven,” People were calling in to the stations to “please stop playing that song.”

 

While I was at home with my parents, Tom and Ruth Carter near Fords Ferry, waiting to be able to go to Murray, I watched the river get higher and higher. Our house was on a hill, but all of the barns were not. It rained so much the water got up to the barn loft floor. Dad loaded bales of hay from the loft onto his boat and then rowed it to the hills. He also carried bags of corn from the cribs that way.

 

He put some bags of corn in the screened porch on our house but the cows, who were on the hills, sensed it was there and searched for it. One cow even came in the kitchen after the bags of corn that Dad had dragged in to get out of their reach. It was a scary sound to be awakened to the sounds of a cow's hoofs in the kitchen.

 

My brother Jimmy and I would stand at the waters edge, about half way up the hill, and try to hit the rats and mice who were flooded out of their homes. They were swimming toward us and we would strike at them with rocks and boards. We never killed one. Our house became their refuge. All night we could hear them running between the walls and upper floor. We never got used to it.

 

The radio kept saying how fast the water was rising, but Dad under estimated its speed and we went to church thinking it would alright. When we returned the cows were standing on high peaks in the bottom fields all surrounded with water. Dad got on his horse to try to herd them off and to shore. His horse was swimming and his foot became tangled in the unseen covered fence and stumbled, Dad fell off in the icy waters. He tried to grab the horses tail but couldn't. He kicked off his heavy water filled boots and swam toward shore. His strength gave out on him and he let go thinking this is it, but as luck was on his side his feet landed on the soft warm mud underneath. That warmth gave him strength to continue to way to higher ground. 

 

Our Mom was at the waters edge urging him on and when he got to where she could reach him she practically dragged him to the house where she put his feet in a tub of water and wrapped him in blankets.

 

We would watch buildings float past our house. We saw a pretty yellow house with white trim go by. Jim and Jake Darnell would go out in the boat and try to catch them with ropes but the current was too swift. They were only able to catch a small shed and drag it to shore.

 

The Crooked Creek came up across one end the road and we could not get out that road., (this section of the road lead to the Dam 50 road), Grandpa Cook's ponds were full and across the other road toward Hebron and Hwy. 91 N, thus Hebron Church Road was closed. The only way anyone could get out was by a canoe. They stationed the boat on one side of the water, so we could row across and tie the boat until time to come back. Then this process was repeated in reverse. Neighbors would sometimes plan on times to come and go.

 

It finally stopped raining and the flood waters subsided enough for Greyhound Buses to roll again. I was on one going to Murray to begin my college career. As we passed though Paducah I could see the houses were all muddy from the high water of the muddy Ohio – even up to the second floors.

 

Now the 1937 flood, seems so long ago, but it lingers only as a memory.