by W E Monroe
Chapter Six: Devastation in Harrelson Corners
Rooster was the first awake on Sunday morning. After adding more wood to the fire, he went outside to survey the damage. The rain had stopped during the night, and now the sky was a brilliant blue with no clouds at all. Shading his squinting eyes with a hand, he stepped off the porch into the sunlight and walked the fifty feet to the bluff looking down on the road and Buzzard Creek. The devastated panorama stunned him.
"Nate, Hester...it's turrible!” he hollered. “Come out and see!..Its turrible! Nate, Hester!" Turning, Rooster ran back to the cabin, splashing through the ankle-deep puddles he had carefully skirted around minutes before.
"It's awful! Harrellson Corners! It's mostly gone!" Rooster reported.
"Oh God!...My Aunt Flo!" Nate slung one of the blankets around his body and ran to join Rooster at the edge of the bluff.
His eyes quickly took it all in, but at first he couldn't allow himself to believe. Looking up the road toward Murphyville, the ravine was still there, and the creek was. But the creek was now as wide as the ravine. There was no road and no vegetation. The road had been washed away; every bit of soil was gone, washed away down to bedrock. The large old trees which had shaded the creek and the road were mangled or swept away completely.
In the opposite direction, Nate could see all the way to Harrellson Corners. Where before the trees had blocked much of the view, now there were no obstructions. Harrellson Corners was built on a broad, flat expanse of land, through which meandered Buzzard Creek. Nearly that entire expanse of land was now the color of yellow mud--mud that had been carried down the stream in that wall of water. That flat expanse of land was a flood plain...and most of Harrellson Corners was built upon it. In the plume of mud deposited where most of the little town had been, could be seen the wreckage of buildings and trees that had been swept away.
"Rooster, my aunt Flo lives down there. I've got to go see if she's alright" said Nate as he turned and sprinted back to the cabin.
In the cabin, Nate quickly found his still-wet clothes, went to the other side of the room, turned his back to Hester and started to dress. "Hester, it's really bad. That flood washed away a lot of Harrellson Corners." Pants now on, he came back to Hester's side and continued to dress. "Nearly every tree along the creek is gone. The road is gone, washed out right down to bedrock.
Dreamily, Hester heard little of what he'd said, but awoke and stood up. The blanket loosely wrapped around her, she crossed the floor to Nate, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him very hard on the lips
For Nate, the feel of her caused the room to sway crazily as a fire within threatened. He struggled to stop this fall into the abyss of passion. Logic said this must not happen now. Finally, he conquered the desire.
"Not now, Hester. There'll be other times. I promise." Gently he pushed her away. "I've got to go. There are people out there that need help. Some may die if they're not helped right away. Aunt Flo is down there in the valley."
"Then I'm coming too! Give me a couple of minutes.
Stepping off the porch again into the brilliant sunlight, Nate squinted and shaded his eyes. Rooster had left the bluff overlooking the creek and was inspecting the rest of the Mooney property for damage. Looking down again toward Harrellson Corners, Nate tried to see if Aunt Flo's house was one that had been swept away.
"I'm ready," stated Hester, now dressed in her daddy's shirt, overalls. Even in Rooster's heavy leather work boots.
"Oh my God!...What do you think happened to all those people that were in the houses swept away." She asked as she stood by Nate and looked at the devastation that used to be Harrellson Corners.
"Do we need to take anything along?" she asked.
"No, Hester, whatever we took it would probably be the wrong thing. Wait a minute...Shovels, yeah we're gonna need shovels."
Hester, looking around, "there's one leanin' up against the end of the house. There's another one back in the barn. Be right back!" and she trotted away to the barn, returned in a minute, struggling to carry the second shovel and a one inch round steel bar about 6 feet long. "A pry bar. We're going to need something strong to use to pry and as a lever to lift heavy things like trees and parts of building" Hester announced, proud that she'd had the presence of mind.
"Good girl! You're absolutely right. Now let's go!" Nate said turning and starting the climb down from the bluff to the creek bed.
"No, Nate!. Stay up on the bluff. It'll be faster. We can go almost all the way on the bluff." Hester called to him.
Stopping in his tracks almost down to the creekbed, Nate realized immediately she was right and returned and then had to hurry to catch Hester, who by now was striding away at a pace that surprised this large and long-legged man.
The remainder of the trip to Harrellson Corners went fairly well. In a few places it was necessary to climb over barbed wire fences, in a few other places it was necessary to climb down to the creek bed to bypass some obstacle like a rocky outcrops, or avoid having to deal with a particulary ornery piece of livestock, like Abe Fetters bull.
Whenever they did have to get down to what used to be the road, it was slippery going because Buzzard Creek, twice as wide now, had nearly every rock thoroughly wet. In addition, there were various sized rocks from gravel-size to rocks one to two feet in diameter. As are most rocks in Colchester, these were rounded either from glacial activity or from being tumbled in streams.
Hester was picking her way along from rock to rock, as was Nate. "NAAAAATE!...OOOmph SPLASH!" Nate looked up just in time to see the shovel Hester had been carrying, launched upward, end over end, as Hester's feet went out from under her. She had had the misfortune to step down on some gravel-size rounds stones. They had rolled when she stepped down, sending her feet and boots skyward. She landed painfully on her backside.
Rushing over, Nate asked with concern wrinkled into his face. "Are you alright, Hester? Let me help you up."
Sitting there with two inch deep water rushing around her, she was hurting. A lot. Determined not to show it, she hadn't made a sound since landing on the rocks and in the water. Turning to face Nate, in her most controlled, steady voice, she said "I'm just fine. If you'll just help me up." Words loudly contradicted by the tears flowing in torrents down her cheeks.
Looking down at the rocks as Nate helped her back to her feet, she hesitated, reached down picked up a pretty colored rock and dropped it in her pants pocket.
Anticipating his question, "I like pretty stones, I've got more back at the cabin. I'll show you some time. You know, I've never found any along Buzzard Creek, before now."
"Alright, let's go." Nate said. " We've got about another thirty minutes walkin' to get to Harrellson Corners. Yes, I'd like to see what you've collected. Geology is something I really enjoy."
"Yeah, when we get back to the cabin, I'll show you some really purty-colored rocks. I got purple ones, green ones, red ones, clear ones."
"Have you shown them to anyone else, Hester?"
"No. Nobody else is interested. Why Nate?"
"Promise me you won't say anything to anybody about them. If you do, I promise you, it'll bring you nothin' but trouble. When we find Aunt Flo, I do want you to show her what you've got. She knows about rocks like that."
By now Hester and Nate were off the slope and the stream bed curved away from the road. Although it was evident that an large amount of water had passed here, there was not nearly the devastation that they had seen all the way down the hill to the edge of Harrellson Corners.
Now at the edge of the small town, Hester and Nate, without intending to, slowed to look at the damage. Buzzard Creek had curved away from the road and the land sloped up gently from the creek in what appeared to be several natural terraces. Murphyville Road upon reaching the edge of town became Main street. The buildings and houses on the uphill side of Main Street appeared to be untouched.
But on
the downhill or side of Main Street, the damage was serious. Clapboard siding ripped off, porches torn away from the rear of most houses. Four houses sitting at a crazy angle, where the force of the floodwater had knocked them off their foundations. However, the five other streets parallel to Main on the downhill side were completely destroyed. The soggy land was completely bare in some places. Covered with rubble in other places. The buildings, completely gone.
"Thank God!" said Nate proclaiming his relief. "Doesn't look like the water even got up to Aunt Flo's house" as he and Hester turned right at the second street, then left on Maple.
There standing on the porch sadly viewing the damage her neighbors had suffered, was Aunt Flo. "Aunt Flo!, Aunt Flo!" Nate called. "Are you OK?" Nate asked as he quickened his steps. Because of the weight of the heavy steel pry-bar and the shovels he was carrying he could only move at a trot. Reaching her yard, he dropped the shovel and bar.