Starting on the outside

Photos by Kristen DiFate | Special to the Beacon

Diane Hays helps get the outside clean, as the inside of the house waits for FEMA.

Any other Independence Day, Moran's bachelor paradise of a patio would be buzzing: Friends crowding the handcrafted wooden bar. Baseball on the television. Hot dogs sizzling on the grill. 

But this year, the Winfield homeowner’s Shangri-La is a soggy, mud-stained mess. Moran, 52, and his longtime partner spent a good chunk of the July 4 holiday cleaning up what the swollen Mississippi River left behind.

“We’re going to have a little fun later,” he said. “We’re not going to let it be a total washout.”

With the Mississippi now in retreat, scores of homeowners in the river’s reach spent Friday dealing with the aftermath of weeks-long flooding. Some gutted entire homes, ripping out flooring and drywall in a race against mildew and mold. Others kick-started the financial aid process with Federal Emergency Management Agency workers.

For many along the river’s edge, July 4 was just another day spent rebuilding normal.

Wait for FEMA

Moran began his cleanup with relaxation in mind.

Holiday barbecues were a staple of the spacious covered patio. The construction contractor, who claims to spend 90 percent of his free time in the shady spot, held out hope the power washer and bucket would soon give way to more standard July 4 fare.

Inside his empty Guitar Drive home, along white walls and shower stalls, a brown water line almost 2 feet off the floor traced the path of destruction.

“It’s a mess in there,” said Moran, who’s lived in Winfield since 1984. “We started here so we’d have somewhere to relax, grill some dogs.”

A veteran of the 1993 flood, Moran held off on attacking the home’s dank innards until FEMA inspectors had a chance to assess the property. Moran didn’t renew the flood insurance that got him through the last disaster.

“I didn’t think in 15 years we’d have another flood again,” he said. “I kept putting it off.” He expects a visit from inspectors by Friday.

The barstools and chairs might be dried out by then.

Relief in Clarksville

Fifteen miles north, in Clarksville, Thomas Bankhead and a group of friends crowded around a beaten picnic table to celebrate Independence Day — and victory over the nearby river.

Waters didn't reach here

 

Like in 1993, Clarksville — whose riverfront sign beckons visitors to “Touch the Mississippi” — again staved off significant damage. This round, more than 1 million sandbags and hundreds of Missouri National Guardsmen and volunteers proved defense enough against the rising river. Bankhead, owner of the historic Landmark House on South Front Street, sat at the table’s head, his white shirt splattered with mud. A sighting point for early riverboat captains, the Landmark House is the city’s oldest and a survivor of the legendary Flood of 1851.

Before the latest floodwaters approached, friends and family yanked out the carpeting and helped relocate the home’s antique furnishings, enough to fill two barns. With the once-knee deep water dropping fast, Bankhead, 65, is inching closer to restocking the Greek Revival masterpiece.

“I’m very grateful that we won. I’m really happy that we pulled it off again,” said Bankhead, as the call to dinner neared at the post-flood party. “Everyone in town is relaxing a little bit.”

Forgetting time in Winfield

Back in Winfield, Thomas Hoehm settled in for another long afternoon.

A steady stream of residents had trickled into the Disaster Recovery Center since it opened last week at Winfield-Foley fire station No. 3. Dozens came to apply for federal disaster relief through FEMA or meet with counselors or Small Business Administration officials.

Most had little time for fireworks or fanfare on Friday.

“There were no festive moods,” said Hoehm, a FEMA official from the Lake of the Ozarks and director of the recovery center. “They’re tired and they’re stressed out. This is a very traumatic experience for them.”

Any other Independence Day, Hoehm would be cruising Table Rock Lake in his boat, grandchildren in tow. Instead, he was holed up in a firehouse community room with an uncertain return date home.

He did not lament the distance. He simply urged flood-ravaged homeowners to come get help. “We’ll stay here as long as the demand is needed,” said Hoehm, reflecting on his role. “This is us paying back the United States for having a wonderful life.”

Just a few miles away, Cassie Young and her father, John, began pondering life anew. The pair stopped by the Red Cross shelter at Winfield High School to grab some food and reconvene with scattered family members.

A foot of polluted water had penetrated their east Foley home. They got their first look at the waterlogged house on Independence Day and were greeted by buckling walls, blackened, sopping carpets and a putrid stench.

“It’s just disgusting,” said Cassie, 21. “I gagged when I got out of the car.”

They plan to gut the home, then refurbish and sell.

“We’re not going to live in a floodplain anymore,” said Cassie, who hoped to take her 4-year-old daughter, Kayleigh, to the Fair St. Louis fireworks that night. “We’re not going to live there.” The Youngs were among the almost 50 people who trekked to the school Friday for a holiday lunch. Closed as a full-service sleep shelter, the high school is still manned by American Red Cross volunteers and open for lunch and dinner.

Eleven people had come by to get flood cleanup kits by early Friday afternoon. Consumed by the aftermath, one weary resident filling out the necessary paperwork had to ask relief workers the date.

He was gently told it was July 4.

“They’re pretty resilient. They have been through this over and over,” said Red Cross volunteer William Dennager. “It feels pretty good to do something for someone else who needs it on Independence Day.”