On the rebound a year after floods

STOCKTON, MINN.

Rose Benke stood on her mother's lawn and pointed down the street at the house she helped build with her own hands 45 years ago. Floodwaters that devastated southeastern Minnesota last year rendered it uninhabitable.

"I go there a lot," said a solemn Benke, 76. "I just go over there and walk around."

She and her husband, Kenneth, raised six children in the one-story, ranch-style house located a skip down from her mother's home in Stockton. Last Aug. 18 and 19, torrential rains poured into their valley town and climbed 3 feet, leaving it unsafe for the Benkes -- or anyone else -- to ever rebuild on the property. Her mother's house sustained far less damage.

A year after floodwaters killed at least six people, damaged 4,200 homes and turned seven southeastern Minnesota counties into federal disaster areas, a stark spectrum of recovery lingers: Abandoned homes sit in weed-strangled yards, completely new homes sprout elsewhere and construction continues on several others.

The Benkes now live with Rose's 99-year-old mother, Ellen Berry, as they await funding to relocate into a "plain Jane" modular home on higher ground just outside of town.

"It's hard to start over when you're young, but it's hard to start over when you're old," Benke said.

"When you're young, you still have your whole life ahead of you," Benke said.

She shudders when recalling the night they fled as floodwaters brimmed at their truck's headlights.

"We hardly had time to get out," she said, adding that she's now reluctant to seek refuge in the basement during severe storms for fear of another flash flood.

Facing their fears

The fear of rain is infectious across the small towns that dot the verdant bluff country of southern Minnesota, but not without challenge. Two Stockton women, Leasah Lilla and Council Member Cheryl Beeman, are in the process of becoming certified storm spotters. There wasn't a siren in town during the floods, Lilla said. That's since been rectified.

That hasn't kept the women, whose houses sustained flood damage, from keeping scanners in their homes that alert them to severe weather. They took to the streets this summer in their cars when weather threatened, honking their horns and flashing their lights to warn residents.

"We've all been laughing and crying," said Lilla, 38, reflecting on the past year.

In nearby Rushford, rebuilding appears to have progressed at a faster clip. Some say that's due to the town's larger population (1,696) and stronger economy. In Stockton, population 682, one weedy yard was littered with debris, including a couch and TV. Nearby, another vacant house was nearly hidden by 6-foot-tall weeds. A toilet sat on another lawn.

The towns are taking opposite approaches to the anniversary that speak to how each has rebounded: Rushford will mark it with a fundraiser in the vein of American Idol, an ecumenical church service and a community picnic with entertainment and prizes. Stockton will let the day slip by without official recognition.

"Well, the first thing I want to clear up is that it will never go back to normal," said Bethany Winchester, Stockton's city clerk and treasurer. "It's going to be a new normal, and we haven't gotten there yet."

According to Winchester, 16 homeowners plan to take a full buyout from the city, meaning they'll relocate to new properties so the city can buy their land and homes, which will be demolished. Of the town's approximate 250 houses, 117 were damaged by the flood.

Five hours on the roof

Fifteen families still live in Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) trailers, Winchester said. Among them are Roger and Bonnie Oldham, who rode atop their house as it was swept off its foundation, crashed through a tree and snagged on train tracks. The Oldhams screamed for help for more than five hours in the rain and were rescued by boat about 5 a.m. on Aug. 19.

They haven't figured out what they'll do and declined to speak in detail about the past year.

"At this point, I don't want to say too much until I know what's going on here," Bonnie Oldham said. "It's a lot of hurt that's not going away."

Rushford has its own vacant houses, and about 22 families still call a FEMA trailer home, but City Administrator Heather Larson estimated that only six homeowners plan to move out of town. Residents said unsightly lawns were a problem, too, but on a recent visit it was less prevalent than in Stockton.

Hope and lots of prayer

"The town really pulled together and stuck together, and the Lord helped us through a lot," said Diane Gielow, 67, of Rushford. "If we didn't pray some days, I don't know what we would've done."

Diane and Karrol Gielow's house sustained $100,000 in structural damage; the couple lost about $50,000 in belongings. They're nearly done with home repairs, financed with FEMA money and a large loan.

Many homeowners said that obtaining aid was a frustrating process and that the amount distributed wasn't enough to cover the total worth of their house and property.

But many chose to stay and, like the Gielows, said they couldn't leave behind memories, friends and the area's small-town appeal.

"This is our home," Diane Gielow said. "Our friends are here. Our church is here. It's our home."

What makes a home?

Gerry and Stan Smith of Minnesota City are learning it's the people and activities that make four walls and a roof home. They're slowly acclimating to the modular house that replaced their 150-year-old house, which was left dangling precariously over a steeply eroded stream bank.

Quiet trout stream Garvin Brook swelled beyond comprehension last year and clawed away as much as 100 yards of the Smiths' back yard. On a recent afternoon, Gerry snapped the ends off string beans for canning while one of her eight children, daughter Cherrie Henry, washed a sink full of the vegetables.

"At first, when I moved in here I just felt like I was cleaning for somebody," said Gerry Smith, who works part time cleaning houses. "It wasn't my home. That's what makes it feel like home: the canning."

Gerry and Stan, 78 and 81 respectively, now have a $625-a-month mortgage on their $71,000 house. It's a hit that competes with Stan's $300-a-month medication, but the Smiths are happy to have a home, even if it means shouldering a mortgage payment that will likely outlive them.

Regardless of the financial challenges, they never miss their daily breakfast date with friends at Bonnie Rae's Cafe in Rollingstone, where patrons kicked in nearly $500 to help cover their tabs after the floods struck.

Said Gerry: "You just can't take everything away."

Chao Xiong • 612-673-4391