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- Subscribe - Contact Us - Rate Card - Place an Ad Archives Revels Classifieds Real Estate Guide Weather Subscribe Contact Us January 31, 2005 Essentially Ashland A song of unsung heroes: The Battle of the bulging floodwaters Lance K. Pugh For the Tidings In 1974, a group of hippies and other upstanding citizens braved a deadly deluge to save the city's water treatment plant We sat slightly above the Plaza, exhausted from sandbagging and helping move store inventories, but still charged with an adrenaline rush that only flirting with death can provide. It was then that a City dump truck came into view and I flagged it down to get an update on the overall situation, feeling that anyone not stuck behind a shovel for the last day would be closer to the overall strategy than us. No one had cell phones then, though some of us had pagers, which proved of little use. The word was that the Water Treatment Plant was under siege by the torrential waters and could soon be lost. The road up the narrow canyon was washed out and a lone bulldozer was being dispatched to blaze a new temporary road into the facility. In a matter of minutes we were dropped off at the location of the Caterpillar and, after a brief introduction, were welcomed aboard by the driver, clearly a seasoned veteran of dozer dashes in distress. He was at ease during our ascent, though we were ready to jump off on a moment's notice; up impossibly steep inclines, across angled slopes that begged us to tumble grave-ward, then down such drastic declines that thoughts of safe passage floated skyward and we clutched in a protracted panic to any hard point at hand. Somehow, despite the vagaries of logic, we throttled to a stop somewhat near the udder to Ashland's perennial thirst for potable water. It didn't take long to ascertain that unless we worked a miracle, the entire facility would soon be undermined by the tunneling tug of the overpowering flood, making drinking water for Ashland only a dry memory. We brought a supply of sand bags, shovels and went straight to work shoveling at the embankment, being obviously careful to avoid digging under or anywhere near a ten-ton boulder that seemed precariously close to tumbling into the surge from the super-saturated slope above. The boulder sat directly above a temptingly soft supply of dirt, but it was a no-brainer that we should fill our bags further upstream, where no threat of being crushed existed. We spoke only when mandatory, choosing to focus our labors at the task at hand. We kept at it for 20 hours, breaking only for a ration of soup, which was sent from atop Lithia Grocery's potbelly stove back in town. Unfortunately, someone had thrown it away upon arrival, as it had come from the "hippie store." Instead of the cream of broccoli, we bit into peanut butter on Wonder Bread, the all-American cure at the time. It was no time for minor squabbles�we had Mother Nature to deal with. We were beyond immediate emotional revival, having spent the entire pitch-black night shoveling and humping burlap, this against the audible backdrop of a remorseless, churning, liquid monster. Endless hours of the liquid's rumbling crush left us each somewhat deaf, ice-water cold and reciting last-ditch mantras of survival: We were a slip or trip away from liquid eternity. We were young and strong, but a quick splash into the flow would have meant an abrupt bubbly end for the wet one. As the first rays of the morning light indirectly illuminated the churning froth at hand, we slowly realized that our night-long effort had resulted in a solid wall of sandbags which deflected the thrust of the floodwaters just enough to forestall the previous undermining well at work the night before. Sensing that our efforts were proving to be successful, we redoubled our efforts, now that we could clearly see and gauge the measure of our work. City workers, themselves exhausted, served up some hot coffee as a moderate rain kept us all sufficiently soaked to swoon at the sight of something both hot and invigorating. We took a short break and heard that the local National Guard Company had been brought inside, there to have some breakfast while awaiting the formal command to march outside into the elements. A local television station had reporters and bright lights ready as a column marched confidently through the doors and into the camera lens, there to symbolize a rescue under way. This was repeated until the right angles were obtained. After the photo op a sergeant brought his squad to our area of work and barked some commands. I felt that some fresh, well-rested backs were indeed called for to continue with our plan. We walked back over the floodwaters on a 2-foot pipe and clawed our way up and out of the churning cauldron. It was there that I met up with the sergeant, who was standing on the safe side of the torrents. This was during a time of intense national debate over the War in Vietnam and I took it in stride, somewhat, as he refused to face me while answering my questions of him, a marked improvement over his initial position that I didn't exist and didn't merit being addressed. He would parry to the right and left, with his eyes focused at some unknown object in the distance. After about 60 seconds of this shuck and jive, I gently rested my hands on his shoulders and gently shook him: "Sergeant, I'm over here, directly in front of you. I live and have a business in Ashland. Whatever you're doing, please get over it and focus on the task at hand." After about 30 seconds, he looked at me. I never expected him to salute me, but I was trying hard to get him to at least listen. As we gathered what few things we had and prepared to head down into town in one of the Guard's thankfully provided trucks, I looked back over my shoulder and saw a scene that caused me to jump back into the mud and run over to where the sergeant stood overlooking the men he had deployed. Through the din I managed to communicate that if he continued to let his men bag the easy dirt, which was directly under the garage-sized boulder, he'd have a lot of explaining to do when the embankment collapsed. Although it was clear that he didn't like taking advice from a drenched and muddied Hippie, he began another series of barks that resulted in his men moving upstream to safety and sanity. I smiled at him and, as I turned to leave, explained: "You know, those shovels are hard to come by up here. I'd hate to have you lose some, if not all, of them should the laws of physics be allowed to take an untoward turn." Arriving some hours later back at my house, I scooped some water out of my redwood hot tub, tossed it over my head and called it a shower. After toweling off I fell heavily upon my bed. It was then that my wife, Annette, called for me to get up and come to the television set, there to see the footage filmed earlier and hear the words: "The Guard saves the day at the Water Treatment Plant." I like the shot that they used, taken low and looking up, making the guardsmen seem like giants. Any visual reference to the Night Shift was carefully edited out, placing responsibility where it seemed natural to fit. I shrugged and went back to bed, there to dream of rushing waters, thundering boulders and our volunteer bulldozer dash into the gaping maw of a raging flood. (Ashland writer and longtime resident Lance Pugh's new weekly column, "Essentially Ashland," draws upon his many years in the community to tell the untold tales of the city-or at least Lance's version of them. Look for "Essentially Ashland" Mondays on page 2 of the Daily Tidings. You can also follow his "Essentially Ashland" Blog by pointing to: http://essentiallyashland.blogspot.com/.) DailyTidings.com Home Page Archives | Revels | Classifieds | Real Estate Guide | Weather | Subscribe | Contact Us Copyright 2005 Ashland Daily Tidings and Ottaway Newspapers All Rights Reserved Slippers Women's & Men's Slippers Ceramic Piggy Banks heloc libor rate Calenders 2005 Calender 2005 Accelerate Weightloss Products Memory Foam Mattress afsa studentloans home equity loans teleconferencing fasa student loans Matchmaking & Dating Scripts African Safari Conference Calls - $50/Month Security Systems student loan consolidation wholesale diamonds Currancy Exchange web conferencing Click Here Site Search: .:Advertisements:. RESOURCES - Mail Tribune News - ODOT Road Cams