An apology regarding Caddo Lake, Texas, flooding
I posted an insensitive comment along with some incredible flood pictures last night on my Facebook Page, and for that I apologize. The good that comes from this is that the post went viral and has exposed a tragic local story you may not have heard about in the national media.
It all started with these photos that Jim Gary posted on Facebook from Caddo Lake, on the border of Texas and Louisiana. His post is a great read, well done, and the photos are just incredible. KLTV 7 says it could be a month before residents are allowed back in their homes and warns people about local scammers.
My post was done partially out of frustration as a meteorologist: If the flood was forecast so far in advance, why did people's property (for example cars and machinery shown above) still end up in harm's way? Facebook fans in the path of the flood have now helped explain to me why this happens, and these explanations make perfect sense.
The best answer came from Jim himself:
"To answer your question, the people move their vehicles to higher ground. That's why they are usually pictured in clusters, close together. Places that have been above ground for over 50 years despite at least a dozen previous floods. By the time they realized this flood was not normal the roads out are impassable and their equipment and vehicles are stranded.
Also this happened during the week and many places are second homes to people who live out of town. The water rose 8 FEET in a matter of 2-3 days. By the time many could make it to their property they had to go in by boat and only had the option of moving their property to higher ground which wasn't high enough this time."
The key takeaways here are:
- Some people were from out of town and couldn't get there in time - Roads were closed before people could get their vehicles evacuated - People did move their property to historically safe, higher ground, but the flood still came up higher
These are all perfectly reasonable explanations, and if I would have thought more than a few seconds before posting, I should have realized that. Here are more stories about the Caddo Lake flooding, from residents there who posted on my Facebook page:
You can help the victims of the Caddo Lake flooding by donating through KTBS, KLSA, the Salvation Army, or the Red Cross. (Locals please feel free to add additional resources to the Facebook Comments section below).
One other point that got me in trouble: I used the term "slow rise" to describe the flooding, which offended those losing property to the rising waters. This was meant to compare the 8- to 9-foot rise of the lake over several days to rapid creek flooding, called "flash flooding" in meteorology, which can happen in a matter of hours, in which any sort of moving of property is impossible.
What I didn't realize was that it made it look like I was minimizing their tragedy, and the difference in time didn't matter anyway, for the reasons outlined above. I've personally experienced both flash and river flooding. Here's a graphic we have showing the different types of floods ("lake" would go along with "largest rivers):
There's no doubt that Caddo Lake received a LOT of rain between March 7 and 10. Here they are plotted on the rainfall map. Amounts in parts of Louisiana were as high as 22 inches! The Marshall News Messenger also points out: "This is our fourth flood in 12 months. We've been over minor flood stage four times in the last 12 months."
I'd like to add another complicating issue: The government equipment measuring the height of Caddo Lake is placed on the eastern end of the lake in Louisiana (most of the accounts and photos on this blog are from the west -- Texas -- end). The equipment failed before it crested; this would have made measurements of the lake unavailable to meteorologists, and could have made forecasts for the lake rise after March 12 challenging.
How high did the lake go? According to the graph above, at the only equipment point on the east end of Caddo Lake, the lake rose from about 171.5 feet gauge height on March 9, to about 178.7 feet on March 12, then the graph shows a sudden decrease (likely due to damage to the gauge). I've plotted stars where someone manually measured the height of the lake during the last three days, showing a maximum of 179.95 feet on March 15. No further data is available, so I've asked the NWS for it. If the 179.95 feet was the maximum, it would be the #4 crest on record, but I'll wait to hear if there were higher measurements from the NWS.
What was the forecast and when was it available? River/lake forecasting is very challenging. While AccuWeather covers the flood and forecast rain on a regional basis, the National Weather Service issues official river/lake level forecasts.
The only record I have of the official NWS Caddo Lake forecast for the equipment point above is the one shown below, which I obtained from Google Cache (which is why it's so small), appears to show that the NWS forecast (at 11 a.m. on March 9) the river to rise to Major Stage (178 feet) around midnight that day. It didn't actually reach that stage until March 12, so thankfully their forecast was even worse than reality.
The NWS page for the Caddo Lake gauge says at 178 feet "Near record flooding of several hundred homes including several stilted homes. Homeowners should be prepared for severe flooding." People in the path of the storm don't have to know all this technical info; NWS uses this to issue Flood Warnings that will contain similar language. I can't confirm that happened because there have been so many warnings that their archive only goes back two days now.
Unfortunately, it's raining on Caddo Lake again today and more downpours are expected in the area this week... though hopefully to the north of Caddo Lake. Please consider donating to the victims by clicking one of the links listed above.
I'll end with these amazing words from Jim Gary:
Silence.
This is the spot where I sat down as a 4-year-old and watched TV. My Great-Great-Grandmother would always tell me to wave back to the people at the end of “The Price is Right” every morning. That was 31 years ago. I put my head in my hands and see my ankles deep in water. So many fond memories and yet…
Grief.
I feel like I’m at a funeral when all the noise is in your head and not outside. When you play all the memories of times past about the one you are there to mourn. When you bend time in your mind and a deluge of memories flood your consciousness faster than seems possible. A flood of memories of memories of floods; this flood is different. So much activity in my head and yet…
Stillness.
It’s cresting. The dance between the earth and the water has reached its climax. For a moment it all stands still. The water quits moving. It’s not coming in, it’s not going out, it’s resting…everything is tired. I find myself overwhelmed with memories. So many strong women who played the most important roles in my life have lived in this old house. I fight it. I lose. A tear falls from my face. That single tear breaks the stillness in the water. One more drop for flood. How many tears are mixed in this muddy water right now? How many memories?
I watch the ripples in the water. The perfect circle of tiny concentric waves becomes elongated to form an oval. It’s moving again but in another direction. All around feels quiet and yet I…
Listen.
Like staring in to the darkness of night, the longer you stare the more stars you see.
I hear the sound of debris lightly tapping against the bottom of the house, water quietly rippling over the threshold making its retreat, the sound of a motor in the far distance, a bird chirps outside. I swim through the dreams in my head and yet…
Reality.
I stand up and notice the pilot light is still lit on the wall heater, a solitary flame in this world of water.
The old house still has blood in its veins. She’s still trying to hold on to life but the struggle may be in vain. I walk over and slowly turn off the gas valve. The light flickers one last time then recedes back in to whence it came.
I put my hand on one of the cypress columns that I pulled out of this lake with my own hands. It’s ok old girl. Just let it go. You’ve done your duty. My family has lived and died between these four walls and you’ve served us well. I say a quick prayer. I wish I could do more.
I get in my boat and paddle away. Looking back one last time I think, “It’s not just a house, it has never been JUST a house…”
-Jim
