By: Ellen Gross

1997, if you've lived in North Dakota over the past 20 years that date stands as a signpost, the first of four individual hundred year floods. Though admittedly, 97 was the most dramatic of the floods. It has been described as a disaster in slow motion. Enderlin had its own peculiar experience with that catastrophe. The Grand Forks Herald named the last blizzard of that year, "Blizzard Hannah." 

April 2 was the beginning of spring thaw in earnest. West bound 1-94 between Casselton and Fargo was closed due to runoff. At the same time Enderlin diking operations went into 24 hour construction. 

April 4th, it started to rain, then the temperature dropped, wind exceeds 40-60 MPH, and the snow began. April 5th, Denis and I are in the living room, watching the six o'clock news on Channel four. Wind is howling, the furnace is running, and I'm glad to have finished my work at the sunflower plant the night before. Even though we live a short distance from the plant, there's no way I wanted to go out the door. 

"Oh oh," Denis clicks his remote a couple of times, "Station is off the air." 

We look at each other not really shocked, ''I'm surprised that didn't happen sooner." I pull a blanket tighter around my neck. 

Ice had been forming on everything for two days, whole trees were cracking and dropping all around us. The Maple River is the first river to exceed its record flood stage at Mapleton, all of that was headed towards us. 

In Lisbon, North Dakota, Vern Eberly is helping his son-in-law man the dike at their riverside home. Rain turned to sleet, to ice, then to snow, all in a matter of hours. It was dark, windy, cold, but the sound of the river carried over the storms howl. "We need to do something sturdier when this is over," Vern observed, "Cement maybe." They were assuming they'd survive the flood and be able to keep the house. 

I was in our bedroom, writing a short story, when the lights flickered. "That's once." Amanda called coming down the stairs. She'd been in her room not doing homework, knowing the odds of school on Monday was very slim. As she reached the bottom of the steps, two more flickers, and lights were out. She grabbed matches off the counter and started lighting candles. We'd taken them out earlier hoping we wouldn't need them. 

Sunday Governor Schafer requested a Presidential major disaster declaration, from President Clinton. None of us knew about that, we were still in the dark, and most of the radio stations were off the air. Denis called Ottertail, at breakfast time. His cell phone was still working. He looked grim as he listened, then shut off the phone, "They said it could be a week to ten days, they can't even get out here yet." 

"That's no surprise," Danny commented. He had stopped in to be sure we were still warm enough. He had Jodi with him. They were dating at this time. "First you can't see more than a few feet, then there is the ice, and of course trees down everywhere, and that's just in town." He didn't mention how he'd gotten Jodi to town. 

We had a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs, gas stove tops work even if the lights are out. The oven wouldn't light, but as long as the four burners worked on the top we were in business. The house temp was dropping, but the storm was letting up, the temp outside wasn't that cold. Denis set up a fish house heater in the kitchen, it would keep our house at a chilly 45-50 degrees. 

Later Sunday afternoon Dan insisted that we go up to the fire hall, they had started the generator, they had lights, heat, and a big kitchen. The firemen and city workers were planning to start rescuing people. The city workers are also in the volunteer fire department, so the two crews melted into one large think tank. The fire hall is the former Kramer Ford garage, its huge showroom had been turned into a gathering place with pool table and davenports. A kitchen had been built up where the parts store had once been. Fire trucks and all the equipment were downstairs in several large work bays, it is a fire house any big city would be proud to own. 

We arrived to find the place filling with other storm refugees. It didn't take long to realize we needed to put the kitchen to use. Sharon Lund led us women to the supplies. The firemen had a big stash of pancake mix. Being resourceful women, we started a shopping list. Not just a shopping list, but a list of food we had in our own freezers, that now were sitting in 40 degree heat, and thawing. Our first meal was pancakes and deer sausage taken from a volunteered source. 

We had a massive list of interesting things, ranging from deer to moose, to beef and pork. We would raid the next freezer offering before each planned meal. Actually we ate very well. The fire hall gas grills and barbecues were our cook stoves. We didn't have any heated water. We had to heat dishwater on a gas grill, a long slow process. As the week progressed we had 40 or more people and two bathrooms, and no hot water. 

Late in one of the first evenings, the county Sherriff's department brought army cots from the National Guard armory in Lisbon. That was an interesting addition to our supplies, no one knew how to assemble the cots, until a couple of former Guardsmen showed up and stared assembling the cots. 

The rescue squads began their plotting about this time. Their first idea was get all the little elderly ladies into warm safe places. Maryhill was the place of choice, by this time we had wall to wall people, small children, two bathrooms, and word that we shouldn't flush the toilets every time. The bathrooms were becoming a real challenge. The guys took their phone book and went down the lists for addresses, and inspiration for which people they should be contacting. They took their four-wheel drive vehicles and literally carried little ladies across snowbanks and lifted them into the tall pickups. One little lady commented "I haven't had so many cute young men pay attention to me in oh so long." 

Amanda set up a babysitting area, she and some of her friends kept the kids entertained. This was getting to be long and boring for the youngsters, it took lots of imagination to keep them out of trouble. 

Next of necessity, was to find gas for the power plant downstairs. Still no lights, means gas pumps don't pump, again the guys made their lists, of all who had gravity tanks in their yards. Some of the yards were in the country, so the 4x4's traveled by twos to fetch gas to keep the fire hall lights going. 

Next project were woodpile brigades. Several people in town had been keeping warm with wood stoves and fireplaces but were running out of wood. We had four elm trees that had been cut and stacked at the top of our yard, several more people offered their stash of wood, and the 4x4 teams were off again. With wood burning, gas heaters and other makeshift things, the boys took along carbon monoxide testers. They found several places that needed airing out, no doubt they averted disaster with their forethought. They also ran tests on the fire hall, a couple times a day, especially when operating the grills, we had to open doors and freshen up the air. 

The Salvation Army started coming once a day with soup and sandwiches. Sandy at the Roadside sent in hot dishes, they had lights. The cafe uptown was open, they had gotten a generator and could actually make coffee. We had pizza one afternoon, because they'd started thawing at the bowling alley. We never had a shortage of food or people to eat it. 

One evening as Keenan, Sharon Lund and I prepared for bed on our cots we suddenly got the giggles. "Sharon," I began, "In all of the years we have spent getting parts where we are making these beds, did it ever occur to you that you and I would someday sleep next to each other where the nuts and bolts bins were sitting." 

Keenan propped his wooden leg in the window, "and I never thought I'd put my foot in that window either." 

For us the flood was more lights out. Fargo and Grand Forks had bigger problems along with their power outages. Our lights came back on Thursday night. Amanda and her class were juniors, and responsible for decorating the gym for prom. They went into the ice-cold school and began to make their dreams of prom a reality.  They had spent the week doing anything but getting ready for the biggest event of the year. 

Vice President AI Gore was touring Fargo. The worst of the flood was just beginning, and it was already horrific. Gary and Lolly Adair found themselves inundated with relatives from Grand Forks. The flood had driven 60,000 people out of Grand Forks. The fire started in downtown Grand Forks about midnight on the 19th. Demonstrating what a slow motion disaster is, it keeps going and going, adding one disaster on  top of another until you wonder where it ends. 

Vern and Clarene Eberly drove to Grand Forks to find Vern's father. He'd been evacuated from a retirement home. Clarene stated that the drive north was on two ribbons of highway 29, from horizon to horizon all you could see was water. 

When they'd found Vern's father, the first thing he asked, "Are we at war?" He'd been taken out by Humvee, and drove past the burned out buildings in Grand Forks. 

Our flood story is about resourceful young men taking care of their friends and neighbors, in the dark. The rest of the 97 flood stories around the state hinge on total disaster, and heroism in their communities. We are a small place, but we have a very big heart. President Clinton arrived in Grand Forks April 22. By that time the fires were out. The roads were mostly open. Fargo had saved itself, and we were back to nearly normal life in Enderlin. It was a good training for 2009-10 and 11 statewide floods. We can look forward to a much drier spring this year. But as pessimistic farmers now we are looking at the lack of snow and wondering, "Is this the beginning of dry years?"