The rains came

The flood gets to eastern Arkansas

MCCRORY, ARK., looked like Houston, Texas, in miniature as Hurricane Harvey’s damaging aftershock cut a watery swath through eastern Arkansas on its way to causing more damage farther east. Poor little McCrory got more than 10 inches of rain, obliging many of its besieged residents to begin sandbagging houses and stores to keep the storm waters out. The city looked more like Lake McCrory as street signs peeked out from above the watery surface of what was once a town.

Technically, the mass of clouds overhead had been downgraded to a tropical depression by the time it gave eastern Arkansas a glancing blow on its way to Mississippi and points east, but that didn’t make it any the less frightening— and dangerous—for those in this state still caught in its path.

Other parts of Woodruff County were measuring up to 9 inches of rain while nearby Lincoln and Prairie Counties were reporting 6 to 9 inches. Six inches of rain hit Fisher in Poinsett County while 20 miles to the east, Harrisburg recorded 4 inches. And over in Mississippi, the National Weather Service—uh oh!— was issuing tornado warnings.

At least folks are being warned better these days. There was a time when disasters struck out of the clear blue, or at least out of the brooding gray. It was like bad old times for folks who didn’t get notice that they were about to be trapped in their now less than secure homes.

Woodruff County’s head honcho when it comes to managing emergencies—Brenda Byerly—reports that most of the county saw some flooding as scores of county roads went under water. The good news was that the precautions weren’t needed in many places, but better safe than sorry.

It’s all too familiar to folks in Arkansas who long ago realized that there’s such a thing as a water-rich state like this one drowning in its own watery wealth. Every time this state is put to another test, an old standard of Johnny Cash’s recurs in the mind, and we can hear his raspy voice once again: How high’s the water, mama? Two feet high and risin’ How high’s the water, papa? Two feet high and risin’ We can make it to the road in a homemade boat

That’s the only thing we got that’ll float

It’s already over all the wheat and the oats, Two feet high and risin’ . . . It’s all part of this state’s history and heritage, which is a great one—if it doesn’t kill you. Cheers, folks. Let’s drink a toast, with potable water, to this small, wonderful and enduring state. It may get a little waterlogged now and then, but it’s ours. And that’s more than enough to celebrate. left