River Residents, U.S. Battle Over Flood Risk : Hazards: Willow Beach, a small trailer village on the Colorado, is ripe for a devastating flash flood, government scientists say. But those who live there are fighting to stay.

This serene stretch of the Colorado River, nestled deep alongside khaki-colored bluffs that bring midafternoon relief from the summer sun, seems an unlikely place to worry about death.

Fishermen cast for trophy-sized striped bass and rainbow trout. Children slip with a gleeful yelp into the cold blue waters from houseboat slides. Canoeists and rafters paddle here after getting a water-level view of the towering Hoover Dam 12 miles upstream and hoping for glimpses of bighorn sheep.

But Alan O’Neill, superintendent of the Lake Mead National Recreation Area, worries about the folks back on the shoreline and talks about the potential for tragedy.

It’s the start of flash flood season, and O’Neill is nervous for the 60 residents of a small trailer village who live here, on National Park Service land. They are targets for a flash flood, he says, a summertime phenomenon that can whoosh down the hillside, sweeping up everything in its path.

“If I were them,” he says, “I’d get the hell out of here.”

But they’re not leaving.

“We understand the risk,” said Bob Corbett of Laguna Beach, who lives here six months of the year and heads the Willow Beach/Colorado River Recreation Assn., a residents lobbying group. “But I think I face an even greater risk (from earthquakes) living in Laguna Beach, and I’m willing to accept the flash flood risks we have here. There are things they can do to protect the village. We don’t have to leave.”

So the issue of whether to move this village of modest, single-wide trailers away from potential floodwaters is headed again for federal court--where it landed 13 years ago. Back then, the residents prevailed in keeping their homes despite the National Park Service’s intention to evict them for their own safety.

O’Neill says the issue transcends a court battle over land use.

“People don’t understand the danger of a flash flood,” he said. “Every time you try to make a move, the special interest voices drown out the issue over whether human life is at risk. And this place is a disaster waiting to happen. We can’t protect these people.”

The village has been here since the 1940s and, potential for flash floods notwithstanding, the place has been spared so far. “Willow Beach has never had any property damage,” said Leroy Opfer, who with his son and daughter runs the local concessions. “No other (riverfront) resort can claim that.”

Indeed, residents of neighboring washes have not been so lucky.

A monstrous flash flood in 1974 struck another trailer village, at the base of El Dorado Canyon 10 miles south of here, killing nine people. The National Park Service had unsuccessfully tried to move that village too. The residents balked--just like here--and then on that fateful afternoon the basin that feeds into El Dorado Canyon was clobbered with three inches of rain and hail in one hour.

Last year, a flash flood--later determined to be the result of a so-called 100-year storm--carrying water 10 feet high roared through the unoccupied Jumbo Wash just 200 yards south of Willow Beach. It left scoured sand where a campground was situated until 15 years ago, when it was closed by the Park Service for that very concern.

It was only the fickle nature of the stalled storm cell that kept the deluge that swept through Jumbo Wash--or the mammoth storm that struck El Dorado Canyon--from hitting the Willow Beach Wash, officials note.

Indeed, last February, a small, unseasonal flash flood--later determined to be the equivalent of a once-in-10-years occurrence--swept down the wash through this village, triggering a blaring flood alarm siren and sending residents to high ground. About $100,000 in damage was done to various public improvements but most of the water was contained in the berm-sided wash alongside the trailers. These rough-and-ready riverfront residents shrugged off the flood as the risk of living here and went about their business.

But worse floods will come, O’Neill says. Statistical probability says so. And if government engineers and hydrologists are right, this little trailer village, the restaurant, the marina--all of it--will be washed into the river like so much flotsam when it does strike.

The U.S. Geological Survey says that if a 100-year thunderstorm--the kind of storm so severe it has a 1% chance of occurring any given year--dumps on the 4 1/2-square-mile drainage basin feeding this wash, floodwaters seven feet high and moving up to nine feet per second could course through the canyon mouth just above the trailer village.

If O’Neill had his way, he would order the village residents off the land--as the Park Service attempted in 1980. The property is owned by the National Park Service but leased to the Opfers, who operate the trailer village and visitor amenities under contract with the federal government.

The Park Service’s first eviction effort was prompted by a 1977 executive order by President Jimmy Carter that all federal agencies study flood plains and address the problems of people living in them.

But the Willow Beach residents successfully blocked the 1980 eviction effort in court, arguing that they were not given the opportunity to participate in the U.S. Geological Survey flash flood study done in the 1970s and that the study was not done properly--and that they were blindsided by the eviction notice.

Geological Survey officials are confident they can substantiate the flood-hazard study, and the National Park Service, which is preparing a new master use plan for the Lake Mead National Recreation Area, wants to go back to court to show that the village should be moved for the residents’ safety, once and for all.

By fall, the Park Service will unveil its recommendations for how the small Willow Beach resort should be reconfigured, opening up a 60-day comment period for the public--and the village residents--to respond to the accompanying environmental impact report. Once the plan is adopted, the Park Service will go back to the judge and ask that his earlier injunction be lifted so the trailer village can be relocated or removed altogether.

That prospect has the residents here angry.

“We know we live in a flash flood area,” said Sheli Norelli, “but it’s up to us to take that chance and weigh it against the chances of living in a city where people in cars do drive-by shootings. I’d rather deal with natural disasters.”

Her husband, Chris, said he and other residents would be more than happy to sign waivers freeing the government of any liability should a flash flood strike. O’Neill said government attorneys nixed the notion.

So the residents, unwilling to pay $5,000 to move their trailer out, are gearing up for Court Battle II.

Corbett says the residents are prepared to raise $100,000 or more to finance the court battle but would rather offer that money to the Park Service to help install flash flood mitigation measures, such as improved retaining walls or rain runoff detention ponds.

O’Neill said the $100,000 offer from the residents would be only a drop in the bucket, given the multimillion-dollar cost of protecting the village from a 100-year flash flood.

Besides, he said, the National Park Service may choose to open additional day-use facilities and establish a campground to replace the one closed in 1978, so even more people can enjoy Willow Beach.

The campground, he adds, would be built on high ground.