“My, how time flies.” If a more true statement has ever been uttered, I don’t know what it is. Our lives are no more than a string of fleeting moments, intertwined with memories played out on our own cognitive playground.
It seems like just yesterday, I was scrubbing around on my knees, playing with my Tonka trucks.
Playing high school sports, graduating from high school, then college. The births of my boys and their high school graduations – the list goes on. I can’t believe my next birthday is coming, I will be 64. My, how time flies.
From a meteorological standpoint, I remember the ice storms of 1968, 1988, and 2004. I will never forget the sound of the ice laden pine limbs cracking as if a small war was being waged in the swamp in front of our house.
I remember the snow storm of 1973. There was a 36 inch snow drift in front of our house on the Brewington road shutting down traffic for days.
Of course, then there was Hurricane Hugo in 1989 – the most devastating storm ever in my lifetime. It certainly changed the direction of my life forever.
Then there were the two floods.
One was a spring flood in 1973, the same year as the snowstorm, and the thousand year flood in 2015.
But the flood of 2015 seemed different for some reason on the spectrum of weather related catastrophes.
I won’t soon forget the rain that fell that weekend of October 4th and 5th. It fell in torrents. It was reported it could have been as much as 20 inches our area.
In my search for stories about this storm, I ran into my longtime friend Caroll Harrington who is a Lieutenant with the city of Manning. I asked him what were some of the moments that stuck out to him.
He had several, he said. The one most memorable was when he was assisting Clarendon County in water rescues and was called to a car flooded out on the Raccoon Road. It was at Moore’s Pond, just past Buckhorn, where two ill-advised motorists decided to try to cross that bridge that goes over the pond, but didn’t make it.
High water got them mid stream and when Caroll and others arrived, these stranded motorists were on top of the car hollering for help.
As the rescuers drove the Hummer out to get them, water started to come in the floorboard of the rescue vehicle and it started to float.
Caroll said that it was a bit unnerving, but they were able to get them to safety.
He also said they provided sandbags to the owner of The Manning Restaurant before the water came right on passed them and flooded the whole place. It goes without saying what the businesses closer to the bridges (Pocataligo) looked like. Some people say the water was waist deep in those unfortunate businesses.
While I don’t have any personal accounts from the north side of Pocataligo swamp, I am sure M&M had some water damage judging from the elevation where they are located.
From my perspective, however, I remember those days leading up to that Sunday morning October 4th. I remember listening to the weather reports getting gradually more dire as the week progressed. To me, that early Sunday morning was the worst day of this whole event.
Where I live, Tearcoat Branch runs from west to south and eventually runs into Black River. I have to cross it either on Tearcoat Road or N. Brewington to go west or south.
Well, I was going to go to church with my youngest son, Stephen, who was at USC in Columbia at the time.
So, thinking about what I have witnessed over the years and how Tearcoat Branch responds to big rains, I got up at 4am to check the height of the water in relation to the bridges and would I be able to get out.
At that early hour, the water was well below the bridge, but the water was rushing pretty hard.
At 8 am, it was probably three feet over the bridge in both places. Lordy, did it rise in a hurry. My estimate is that those crossings rose six feet, maybe eight, in a four hour period. Boy, is that moving.
To make matters worse, a pond just north of me on the Brewington Road was flowing across the road – cutting me off on the only other access out.
So not only did I not make it to church that Sunday with Stephen, but we were on an island for about 36 to 48 hours – scary stuff.
One last acknowledgment: 301 at Black River.
In 1973, the north side of 301 was like a 500 acre lake. I didn’t witness this personally, but by all accounts, someone skied on this flooded bean field. I am sure that was really something to see.
The water was truly high, but by recollection – and I was only 12 – it didn’t do anything to the bridges, but the 2015 monster surely did.
It completely took out the main bridge in the swamp and 301 was out of commission for months. That was a huge inconvenience to go around, for Hwy 301 is a main artery through this area and heavily depended on.
Suffice it to say, as large as this complex weather pattern was and how many people it affected, I am sure there are tons of stories to be heard.
Thank the Lord we made it through it though!
