March 23, 2016 at 3:55 p.m.
City's flooding issues are not new
Back in the Saddle
The pile of papers has stories to tell.
The papers were held in a battered, green envelope David Teeter came across at Baird-Freeman Funeral Home in Portland.
Knowing retired banker Barry Hudson had an interest in downtown flooding and local history, David loaned the envelope full of papers to Barry.
And Barry passed it on to me, believing that some of the stories the old papers have to tell should be shared.
The envelope’s contents date from a period between 1957 and 1962 and chronicle local efforts to reduce or eliminate the perpetual flooding of the county seat by the Salamonie River.
The key figure in those efforts was a fellow named Sherwood Ide.
Ide was publisher of The Commercial Review and the Dunkirk News and Sun, which were both owned at that time by something called The Independence Foundation.
Ide’s background and the details of the foundation are a little murky. Local legend has had it that Ide met the owner of The CR — attorney and financier Mort Hawkins — when the two were inmates in federal prison. Hawkins, brilliant and flamboyant, had run a mortgage company that apparently morphed into something like a Ponzi scheme.
But by the late 1950s, Hawkins was deceased and his estate had become The Independence Foundation, with Ide at its helm.
Ide himself was getting on in years. The foundation would sell both newspapers to the Graphic Printing Company in the spring of 1959.
But in 1958, Ide was still going full tilt. And after the worst flood in Portland’s history, he made it his mission to “fix the river.”
The Salamonie in those days didn’t look like it does today. These days, much of its length resembles a ditch more than a natural river; and that’s partly Ide’s doing.
But in 1957, the river banks were heavily wooded. The river’s bed was narrow. Logjams were a routine problem, and the course of the river twisted and turned. With two railroad trestles crossing the river just south of downtown Portland, it didn’t take much for “dams” to form suddenly blocking the natural flow and sending the river over its banks.
Ide and a handful of local business people formed something called the Community Drainage Corporation. They pressed for action by the city, which had no funds available, and pushed the state as well.
They also took matters into their own hands.
Raising contributions — the pile of papers includes donation receipts for amounts as small as $1 — the non-profit corporation hired local contractors and young men just out of high school to clear brush and trees from the riverbanks and do their best to widen the channel.
They also acquired rights of way from adjoining property owners and in one case even moved a small cottage to get it out of the river’s path.
But much of their action was political.
Ide was well connected with the Indiana Republican Party. The governor was a Republican, as were both U.S. Senators.
From the state, all Ide could get was a study of the situation and a set of recommendations. He was more successful at the federal level and managed to get the attention of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, which eventually dredged the river channel, straightened it, and essentially turned much of it into a drainage ditch. It’s safe to say that none of the actions by the Corps would pass muster today environmentally, but it was the 1950s and different rules applied.
All of that’s of interest, but probably the most interesting document in that pile of papers is the state study.
It recounted in detail the long history of Salamonie River flooding: 1824, 1883, 1896, 1897, 1898, twice in 1904, 1913, 1916, 1927, 1933, 1937, 1938, 1942, 1946, twice in 1950, 1951, 1956, twice in 1957 and again in 1958.
Those floods were different from the most recent ones. The river flowed over its banks freely, while more recent floods have involved Millers Branch backing up in storm sewers into low-lying areas.
It’s also important to note the size and scope of the June 1957 flood, which is still generally considered the worst in Jay County’s history. According to the state study, rainfall measuring 9.96 inches fell over a 25-hour period. About 187 commercial or public buildings were affected, and 543 residential properties were damaged. Though there had been a flood in 1956, this one was 16 inches higher.
No amount of dredging, no amount of civic effort is sufficient when you’re faced with nearly 10 inches of rain in a day.
The papers were held in a battered, green envelope David Teeter came across at Baird-Freeman Funeral Home in Portland.
Knowing retired banker Barry Hudson had an interest in downtown flooding and local history, David loaned the envelope full of papers to Barry.
And Barry passed it on to me, believing that some of the stories the old papers have to tell should be shared.
The envelope’s contents date from a period between 1957 and 1962 and chronicle local efforts to reduce or eliminate the perpetual flooding of the county seat by the Salamonie River.
The key figure in those efforts was a fellow named Sherwood Ide.
Ide was publisher of The Commercial Review and the Dunkirk News and Sun, which were both owned at that time by something called The Independence Foundation.
Ide’s background and the details of the foundation are a little murky. Local legend has had it that Ide met the owner of The CR — attorney and financier Mort Hawkins — when the two were inmates in federal prison. Hawkins, brilliant and flamboyant, had run a mortgage company that apparently morphed into something like a Ponzi scheme.
But by the late 1950s, Hawkins was deceased and his estate had become The Independence Foundation, with Ide at its helm.
Ide himself was getting on in years. The foundation would sell both newspapers to the Graphic Printing Company in the spring of 1959.
But in 1958, Ide was still going full tilt. And after the worst flood in Portland’s history, he made it his mission to “fix the river.”
The Salamonie in those days didn’t look like it does today. These days, much of its length resembles a ditch more than a natural river; and that’s partly Ide’s doing.
But in 1957, the river banks were heavily wooded. The river’s bed was narrow. Logjams were a routine problem, and the course of the river twisted and turned. With two railroad trestles crossing the river just south of downtown Portland, it didn’t take much for “dams” to form suddenly blocking the natural flow and sending the river over its banks.
Ide and a handful of local business people formed something called the Community Drainage Corporation. They pressed for action by the city, which had no funds available, and pushed the state as well.
They also took matters into their own hands.
Raising contributions — the pile of papers includes donation receipts for amounts as small as $1 — the non-profit corporation hired local contractors and young men just out of high school to clear brush and trees from the riverbanks and do their best to widen the channel.
They also acquired rights of way from adjoining property owners and in one case even moved a small cottage to get it out of the river’s path.
But much of their action was political.
Ide was well connected with the Indiana Republican Party. The governor was a Republican, as were both U.S. Senators.
From the state, all Ide could get was a study of the situation and a set of recommendations. He was more successful at the federal level and managed to get the attention of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, which eventually dredged the river channel, straightened it, and essentially turned much of it into a drainage ditch. It’s safe to say that none of the actions by the Corps would pass muster today environmentally, but it was the 1950s and different rules applied.
All of that’s of interest, but probably the most interesting document in that pile of papers is the state study.
It recounted in detail the long history of Salamonie River flooding: 1824, 1883, 1896, 1897, 1898, twice in 1904, 1913, 1916, 1927, 1933, 1937, 1938, 1942, 1946, twice in 1950, 1951, 1956, twice in 1957 and again in 1958.
Those floods were different from the most recent ones. The river flowed over its banks freely, while more recent floods have involved Millers Branch backing up in storm sewers into low-lying areas.
It’s also important to note the size and scope of the June 1957 flood, which is still generally considered the worst in Jay County’s history. According to the state study, rainfall measuring 9.96 inches fell over a 25-hour period. About 187 commercial or public buildings were affected, and 543 residential properties were damaged. Though there had been a flood in 1956, this one was 16 inches higher.
No amount of dredging, no amount of civic effort is sufficient when you’re faced with nearly 10 inches of rain in a day.
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