By KAREN PARKER | County Line Editor
If the politicians are in Ontario, it can be only one of two things that brought them here. Either we’re hosting our July 4 celebration, or the village once again slipped beneath the waves. As this is not an election year, we managed to squeeze past July 4 with no political sightings. That should have been our first clue that things were about to go downhill.
In case you’ve been off on a world cruise and missed the news, Ontario was hit by another one of those 100-year floods again. They seem to come every 10 years now, but that has not made us any more alert to the dangers of a major flood. Nature didn’t help any, coaxing us along all year with plenty of rain. Once she had teased us into a comfort zone, she let loose, dumping seven inches of rain over a few hours.
It’s hard to imagine what might have happened if this deluge had occurred on a busy Saturday. Instead of canoes, we could have been fishing bodies out of the river.
That may be cold comfort to those who watched their livelihood go sailing down the Kickapoo or are still muckingmud out of their homes and businesses.
Needless to say, once this disaster struck, help came streaming in from Viroqua, Madison and Washington, bearing hot coffee, sandwiches, mops, buckets, gallons of bleach, and FEMA checks to cover the losses.
Oh, wait. Wrong movie.
What happened was a Vernon County squad arrived on the scene and was promptly buried up to its windshield. Once fished out, it went to the junkyard.
The governor’s office sent a memo to alert us he would be at Brookwood High School at 11:15 a.m. Friday. I called his office to point out that Brookwood is on a hill and several miles away from the significant damage in Ontario.
“Oh, I am sure that is just a starting point,” his minion chirped.
She also added the governor would arrive an hour earlier than what had been stated in the press release. I figured those who wanted to pay homage would probably miss him, and they did. Furthermore, the governor’s “starting point” was also his ending point. Evidently spooked by the prospect of further rain, he hopped back in his helicopter and hightailed it after a brief chat with those assembled at Brookwood,
Compare and contrast Walker with Lyndon Johnson, who was in New Orleans within 24 hours of Hurricane Betsy.
In the Ninth Ward, Johnson visited the George Washington Elementary School, on St. Claude Avenue, which was being used as a shelter. Most of the people inside and outside of the building were African-American. At first, they did not believe that it was actually the president. Johnson entered the crowded shelter in near-total darkness; there were only a couple of flashlights to lead the way.
“This is your president!” Johnson announced. “I’m here to help you!”
Ah, yeah, they don’t make them like that anymore.
I realize an Ontario flood is not on the scale of a hurricane, but, golly, we ought to qualify for more than a flyover.
State Rep. Lee Nerison did stop by my office, but when he found the governor would be an hour early, we last saw him racing up Highway 131 to Brookwood.
The rest of us got up Thursday morning and did what we always do. We grumbled, shook our fists at the sky, and then grabbed mops, brooms and chainsaws. Some waded into the swamps and rescued tubes, kayaks, and other debris from their merry ride down the river. Canoe-livery competitors worked together to begin the enormous task of clearing the river.
Our beleaguered village maintenance staff, barely recovered from the cleanup after the July 4 celebration, worked from sun up to sun down, often with the help of volunteers.
Heartland Retreat Center/Diamond Way Buddhism of rural Ontario set up a brat and hot dog stand, offering free food donated by Organic Valley, and for a few days after the flood, the Red Cross set up a station in the Ontario Community Hall.
Every flood event always brings the inevitable comparisons to past floods. So far, the conventional wisdom seems to be “worse than 2008, not as bad as 1978.”
We codgers who recall ‘78 are once again reminded that we are getting old. When my husband and I first moved here, we might have heard tales of the 1935 flood. Now we are the keepers of the old stories.
Those who harbored the hope that Highway 131 would provide a barrier were sadly disappointed, although it might have slowed the current over what it had been in ‘78, if that is any comfort.
What buildings still remain in the flood plain took a beating. Butch Pearson, the Kickapoo Paddle Inn’s original owner, recalls water that was chest high in the building in 1978, a phenomena repeated this year. Pearson thinksit may have been even worse this year. In 1978, all of his canoes and trailers were kept up at his father’s place on the hill and the only other canoe rental was the Beauti-View, which is now Mr. Duck’s. Although they launched from the old mill, their canoes were kept at the Beauti-View on Wildcat.
Since then, we have added three canoe rentals, and, from one end of town to the other, their accoutrements are strung along the riverbank.
If floods are coming with more frequency, perhaps we need to rethink some of this.
I am happy to report that our Palen Park survived its first major drowning incident. Considering its location, we made every attempt to tie it down, stake it down or cement it in. We did lose three picnic tables and a bench that has since been returned. The tables have also been spotted down the Kickapoo. Theflowers look sad, and water went in the Visitor Center, but I guess we can live with that. The pole on which the carved eagle sits will now get one more sign, this one marking the 2017 flood.
So there you have it, the news from Ontario. Who says nothing ever happens in small towns?
