Historic Town Emptied Despite Levee Gambit

To the wail of sirens in the night, officials evacuated this 18th-Century French settlement late Tuesday, fearful that they had lost a bad gamble: They had cut an upstream levee in one last, desperate effort to save the town.

“The water is rising, and we’ll probably lose it tonight . . . ,” declared Robbie Aubuchon, a village trustee, after he sounded the sirens and yelled at townspeople, urging them to leave. “Things are dangerous as they can get. We don’t want people drowning. We’re getting everyone out.”

Town officials had sacrificed 47,000 acres of farmland and 50 farmhouses by breaching a levee three miles to the north and creating a cross-flood. They hoped it would run east and deflect tons of water that had escaped the Mississippi and were barreling south alongside the river--straight toward Prairie du Rocher.

By 8 p.m. local time, however, both the cross-flood and the southbound water were rising against an east-west flood wall near the edge of town. Sandbaggers abandoned the wall and fled. Helicopters searched for stragglers. Sheriff’s deputies ordered residents to leave. Even some National Guard troops loaded up and headed out.

Downstream in St. Genevieve, Mo., and Chester, Ill., townspeople braced for the worst. The mayor of St. Genevieve said the Mississippi would crest just below the top of a 50-foot levee. In Chester, the river flooded a cellblock at a maximum security prison. Guards moved inmates into a chapel and other buildings on high ground.

Upstream in St. Louis, all but five of 51 propane tanks knocked loose by the river were restored to their cradles. City officials said they hoped to begin letting residents return to within a half mile of the tanks early today. Floodwater receded, but the St. Louis fire chief was reluctant to say that all danger had passed.

As the day wore on, some officials said that the terrible gamble to save Prairie du Rocher might be the final sharp clash between man and nature in the Midwest this summer. Two months of flooding throughout the area has contributed to 47 deaths. Estimates of property damage have ranged between $10 billion and $12 billion.

Indeed, in a few towns north of St. Louis, where levees have stood fast, residents and public officials declared tentative victories. Business started reopening, for instance in Canton, Mo., where Mayor Jesse Franks said he would lift a state of emergency in three or four days. Cleanup crews were already at work.

Officials in Rock Island, Ill., started a free dump for flood trash. And at Jefferson City, Mo., two lanes of a bridge over the Missouri River were reopened, ending a week during which there was only one bridge safe for traffic across the river between Kansas City and St. Louis.

Prairie du Rocher

In Prairie du Rocher, local officials and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers agonized for hours over whether to cut through their levee along the Mississippi and flood valuable farmland to save the town, which has only 600 people.

What turned the decision was the fact that much if not all of the farmland would have been flooded regardless.

“We could sit back and do nothing and just hope and pray that the levee held, or we could breach the levee and minimize the damage,” said Dan Reitz, chairman of the governing board for Randolph County, which includes Prairie du Rocher. “We followed the advice of the Corps of Engineers.

“That farmland was going to be under water no matter what.”

The farmers watched and waited as workers floated a crane on a barge up to the levee. The crane scooped three feet of gravel off the top along a 400-foot stretch. Then the workers punched a hole through the levee.

Some of the farmers were angry, and some were resigned. None were happy.

Floodwater from the Mississippi rolled east across Ft. Chartres, a partially rebuilt structure made of stone and concrete. First erected in 1772, the fort was expected to withstand any damage. Officials said they rescued its artifacts.

The water rolled still farther to the east, across prime farmland behind the fort and into the path of the floodwater headed south. There the two currents mingled. Finally, from their confluence, they formed one flood and rolled on south. They reached the flood wall near Prairie du Rocher and began rising.

At 11:20 p.m. local time, town officials said the floodwater had climbed to within a foot of the top of the flood wall. A handful of workers and National Guardsmen were still in town, gathering up whatever they could save. They were ready to flee at a moment’s notice.

The farmers watched as their crops and homes disappeared. Some were willing to give up their land to try to save the town. “We’re glad we’re all alive,” said Lane Curten, 37, who had left his crops to help with the sandbagging. “We’re going to do our best to keep what’s dry, dry--and what’s wet, wet.”

Others were upset. At the Ft. Chartres Sportsman’s Club outside of town, they debated the wisdom of breaking the levee.

“The only thing left of my house is the weather vane on top,” said Ron Umbbenstock, who lost all his chickens. “None of us were ever talked to. The politicians just have their closed meetings and then blow the whistle and tell you to get out.”

Although nobody seemed happy about losing farmland, some said it was worth it. They cited the country inns and fine French food for which Prairie du Rocher is famous. “If we lose this town,” said Wallace Droste, 70, a retired farmer, “we lose an awful lot of history.”

St. Genevieve

Across the river and a little downstream, St. Genevieve, the oldest European settlement in Missouri, braced for a crest on the Mississippi sometime Thursday.

Mayor William Anderson said the river was expected to climb to about 49 feet, just under the top of a 50-foot levee. In the past couple of days, residents and merchants closest to the river have been evacuated.

“It seems like every two days or so we get a new flood level to look out for and a new date for when the crest will hit,” Anderson said. “The last date was Sunday, and like all the rest, it passed too.

“So who knows what’s going to happen come Thursday?”

About 4,500 people live or work in St. Genevieve. Portions of its main highway have been closed, and townspeople worried about 33 French Canadian homes built near the river in the 1770s by fur traders.

Beginning a month ago, local officials turned to the Mississippi Lime Co. in St. Genevieve for help, and by Tuesday, nearly 1.5 million bags of crushed lime had been stacked high along the river levee in the hopes of keeping out floodwaters.

“We’re all working, and we’re all getting together, and we’re going to work through this thing,” vowed Margaret Jenks, whose father founded the lime company in 1907 and whose family owns several of the historic homes.

“And if the worst happens, well by golly, we’re going to be like the Phoenix bird. We will rise from the dust and be stronger than ever.”

Chester

Still farther downstream in Chester, the Mississippi flooded a guardhouse and one cellblock at the Menard Correctional Facility. A wall of sandbags was being constructed along the edge of the maximum security prison in an effort to protect it.

But floodwater rushed into the North Cell House on the edge of the river. The first and second floors were evacuated. The building houses a segregation unit for inmates who have broken prison rules and a protective custody unit. Some of the inmates were evacuated to buildings on higher ground.

“There’s a lot of nervous talk in the cell houses,” said D.K. Reardon, a prison guard. “Some of those inmates think they’re going to be flooded in. We’re taking on water pretty fast, but things aren’t that bad.”

The floodwater swamped the Chester water plant. Prison officials were distributing bottled water to the inmates.

St. Louis

Upstream in St. Louis, floodwater receded, but officials were reluctant to declare that the danger had passed.

The National Weather Service said the Mississippi was at 47.9 feet, measured from a standard elevation established by the Army Corps of Engineers. This was about a foot below a 48.7-foot record crest on Sunday night.

But the weather service said the river would climb back up to 48.5 feet sometime on Thursday. Its forecasters said floodwater outside broken levees in the St. Louis area was rising to the level of the river itself and beginning to diminish the relief that breaches offer to the river flow.

Emergency fire and police crews stayed on the alert. “I don’t think the danger is past us,” said St. Louis Fire Chief Neil J. Svetanics. “That won’t come until the river has stabilized and everyone is back home and back at work.”

Officials said they hoped that residents could begin to return early today to within a half mile of the Phillips Pipeline Co., where floodwater dislodged 30,000-gallon propane tanks from their moorings earlier this week near the River des Peres, along the southern city limits.

Five of the 51 tanks still were causing problems late Tuesday, and divers worked round the clock to try to relieve pressure in the tanks and slip them back into their cradles.

About 11,000 residents and business owners were evacuated for a mile around when the tanks broke loose and two small fires began. Svetanics was not ready to say when those who live or work closest to the site would be permitted to return.

“We’ll let them know as soon as we can,” the fire chief said. “We’re working as fast as we can. The problem is that we’re operating under water and in the dark. City officials are sensitive to the needs of the residents who have been evacuated, but the situation remains too dangerous to allow the public back into the area.”

Lacy reported from Prairie du Rocher and Chester; Serrano from St. Louis and St. Genevieve. Times researcher Edith Stanley in St. Louis and staff writer Richard E. Meyer in Los Angeles contributed to this story.