Frank M. Allara Library Special Collections and Archives (Univ. of Pikeville)
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Page 48, Folk Tales of the Cumberlans
No full textA book of collected essays on life in the Appalachian mountains, created by the English Eleven students of Pikeville College, circa 1927
New Caledonia, back
No full textOn back: "Scene near Sarramea
New Caledonia
Dec 1943
Harper” Found on page 2, Scrapbook 2.Scene near Sarramea
New Caledonia
Dec 1943
Harpe
Pikeville College, Diary of a Flood, page 3
No full textIt Seemed to
be a Gentle
Downpour ...
(PHOTO)
Scene in Disaster Center
at Pikeville College
Science Building. Flood
refugees slept on cots in
classrooms and hallways.
by Sandra M. Branam
The hot day in August when I
first saw Pikeville, it was through
a cloud of dust at 104 degrees. A
year and a half later, I was
slogging through mud with my
neighbors on Park Street and
working at the Pikevil!e College
Disaster Center in one of the
worst floods to hit Eastern
Kentucky in years.
When I expressed some doubt
as to the safety of locating about
a hundred and fifty feet from
the riverbank, people assured me
that Pikeville would never again
suffer a flood like that of 1957
because the system of dams
erected by the Army Corps of
Engineers and the cut-through
that was to re-route the river
would make flooding a nightmare
of the past.
Sunday afternoon, April 3, I
had just finished planting the
last trillium in my wild flower garden
when the first rain began
to fall. I was pleased, as it
seemed to be a gentle, steady
downpour, perfect for plants
that have just been transplanted.
It was still raining and the
river was on the rise early
Monday morning as an unbroken
stream of plastic containers and
other debris moved swiftly down
the middle of the Levisa Fork of
the Big Sandy with the current. I
had seen debris on the river
before but this was different. It
was coming too fast and too
steady; it had to be moving from
far upstream and picking up
momentum from creeks
dumping in water and trash
along the way.
I felt uneasy all day. Working
at my office for Cumberlands
magazine, I hardly noticed the
time until my thirteen-year-old
son Chris burst in announcing
that school had ended early. The
bus drivers were afraid there
might be some flooding in low
lying areas. That was at 4
p.m. "Mom, you'd better look at
the river. It's really getting
high," Chris warned. By the time
I got to the river, it was four feet
below flooding the banks behind
our house, which meant it had
risen Oller 20 feet since morning,
about two and a half feet an
hour.
Running for the telephone, I
alerted Harold, my husband, to
the situation. "O.K. Sandy, now
try to be calm about this, will
you?"
"Who's excited? Just get
home please."
By the time Harold and our
sixteen-year-old son Steve got
home, the river had risen
another foot and a half.
grabbed our dirty clothes and
threw them into the washer.
"Sandy, what are you
doing?" Harold yelled.
"I'm washing clothes. No
telling how long it will be before
we'll have clean clothes again."
"The water is only ten feet
away from the house!"
"They're lightweight . Maybe
they'll dry," I said wildly.
We hurried up and down the
basement stairs to clear an
extensive library, darkroom·
painting studio, and Steve's
woodworking shop. We had
made the decision to save those
things that were irreplaceable
first.
After the dryer stopped, we
wrestled the washer and dryer
from the basement to the first
floor where we hoped it would
be safe . As we loaded the last
armful of books off the shelves
the water came boiling up
through the drainpipe and the
back door, covering our feet
with water. By 7:30 we had
everything we could carry up to
the second floor. All of us were
exhausted and in a cold sweat.
Our neighbor, Cliff Miller, who
teaches chemistry at Pikeville
College, came in and asked if we
had cut off the electricity. Cliff
waded through the water and
removed the fuses for us.
Having opened the windows
and . done as much as we could
for our belongings, we closed
our door and headed for shelter.
To our surprise, most of our
neighbors were not far along in
their moving. We spread out into
three different homes to help
people get their possessions to
attiC'. and second floors.
By ten o'clock the water was
up to our waists as we waded
through a swift-moving current.
We pulled our Scottish terrier
along and went directly to
Armington Science Learning
Center (the Science Building) at
Pikeville College. There were
some people there· already and
more were arriving every few
minutes.
Dr. Roger Keller, chairman of
the Religion Department at the
college, was in charge of helping
people find a place to bed down
and from there Pikeville College
extended a helping hand in an
ever-widening circle before and
after the Red Cross was put into
operation.
Lou Egger, music instructor
at the college, was busy setting
up a message center which she
left ' only when totally
exhausted, after many days
without sleep.
Assistant Dean of Students
John Bray was manning a ham
radio with Denver Matney, an
experienced ham· operator. The
two men helped get Civil
Defense cots to the Science
Building with their messages.
We arrived at the Science
Building at the same time as the
cots. My only shoes were
soaking wet and I took them off
while helping to construct the
cots. At some point a cot
collapsed on my foot and I let
out a loud curse, to the shock of
several ladies around me.
"Excuse me, it helps," I said.
No sooner had we gotten the
cots up than patients began to
arrive from Mountain Manor
Nursing Home. Most of them
were elderly and confused by
what was happening. The nurses
had their hands full just getting
their charges into the room and
so those of us who were staying
for the night started helping
with scrounging dry blankets
and pillows as theirs were
dampened in the hurried transfer
from the home.
At some point Monday night,
we lost telephone communications
with the outside world and
we ran messages by foot from
place to place.
After midnight I tried to lie
down, but found I was too
keyed up and talked and listened
to the radio until the power was
gone. The lights flickered on and
off for some time in a
psychedelic fashion before they
were finally extinguished. I slept
intermittently until I heard "The
city library is on fire!"
I shook Steve .and told him.
Groping in the dark, we went up
with Harold to the roof of the
Science Building. The after-glow
lit up the night sky. Unable to
get a good look, we left the
building. Below us the scene was
as from an inferno. Water
covered the town, reflecting an
entire block of buildings on fire,
popping and hissing as debris hit
the flood . The library was not
on fire, although there was water
almost to its roof.
By this time dawn was
approaching and the birds . had
started to sing. Again I tried to
sleep, but it was useless.
BetWII'tHt"' liN 4lfld seven a.m. I
went over to the Bear's Den, a
snack bar where hamburgers and
french . fries are sold during
normal times. This morning
(Tuesday) I found Fred
Frederick, a Pikeville College
basketball star, stirring up a
batch of fifty scrambled eggs.
"Fred, you make a great cook,"
I grinned. Fred laughed , "Well,
they needed somebody to do
it."
I got two pots and made
batches of oatmeal for the
patients from the nursing horne
on a hotplate set up in t he
middle of the Bear's Den and
then carried it over to the
basement of the · Science
Building which had been turned
into a temporary hospital. When
the electricity had gone off
Monday night, the Bear's Den
was able to continue operating
due to it generator.
(turn to page 6)
DOLE ... from page 1
On their way out of the
parking lot, they stopped to help
unload a car owned by Jerry
Harris, chairman of the college's
Humanities Division . Harris had
just been located, teaching his
Monday night class, unaware
that the water was up so high.
They retrieved a portfolio filled
with student papers, poured the
water out, and carried it to
safety. Harris arrived and had to
be convinced that he couldn't go
back to his second floor
apartment to spend the night.
He had never seen a flood.
Dole went back to the
buildings to tell Bill Peacock, the
director of physical plant, to
move out. He wanted to move
more stuff up to the second
floor, so Dole stayed with him
unti I the water started coming
up over the top step of the
breezeway on the first floor.
Then they all left the area.
Moving on nervous energy,
feet and legs swollen and numb,
Dole .made his way back to Park
Street to make sure all the
residents had been evacuated.
Along the way he saw his
roommate, Mike Thornsbury
from Canada, Kentucky, carrying
a girl out of her house. He got
together with Thornsbury and
the two decided to go to the
other end of town. He knew
those people would need help,
too.
They arrived on Scott Avenue
and found Tim Adkins, Happy
Osborne and four or five other
guys, all Pikeville College
students. They decided to break
up into teams. Dole himself
carried at least fifteen people
out of their homes to safety,
mostly elderly people .
"One old woman didn't want
to believe the water was coming
up, that's for sure," he recalled.
"She was crying when she left
her home. Mike asked her for a
date to cheer her up; when we
got ready to leave her, she was.
laughing ."
Cora Nunn, secretary in the
college development office, lived
on 3rd Street. College students
and state policemen ·cleared out
nearly everything in her riverside
home and moved it to the
"safety" of the porch next door.
Even though the porch was
about 10 fe e"t higher than the
Nunri home, everything on it
was waterlogged by Tuesday
morning. This happened time
and again, family after family.
"Mike's legs cramped once
and I pulled him out of the
water. But he still kept going. I
got back up on the hill about
midnight and five minutes or so
later somebody needed help to
move ammonium nitrate down
at the fertilizer store on Cline
Street for fear it would explode."
Dole went out again to help,
wondering how bad the final
results would be when the floodwaters
receded and hoping he'd
checked all the houses and not
left anyone who needed help
Pikeville College, Diary of a Flood, page 4
No full textNew cars bobbed in water on lots
throughout Pikeville when the Levisa
Fork rose too quickly for owners to clear
their lots.
(PHOTO)
Photo by Sandra M. Branam
Top of Pikeville College gym shown
Tuesday, April 5, after water had receded
several feet .
(PHOTO)
Photo by Sandra M. Branam
Resident of new college apartments
surveys damage to liv lng room furnishings
in second floor apartment where water
reached a height of 4-5 feet.
(PHOTO)
Photo by Jack Marks
(PHOTO)
Second , floor of new co liege apartments
as seen on Tuesday afternoon, April 5, as
the floodwaters receded: the first floor
was still completely submerged; the water
crested about midway on the second
floor windows that are showing in this
photo by Sandra M. Branam.
Flood waters do not simply come up, stand for several hours, and
then fa ll. Floodwater creates its own current within a room' or building,
moving lamps, houseplants, television set s, refrigerators and even entire
buildings as it rushes downstream.
Floodwater is not clear or clean. It is brownish and cold and diseased
as it rises. When it settles in clothing, upholstered furniture, toys,
books, food and all else it contacts, it becomes a yellowy-brown. As
heat penetrates flood -soaked items, the stench is repulsive.
Flood mud is not dough-like . . It has a thick, slimy, greasy
consistency and a gray-black coloring. It dries into a brownish gray
coat ing and falls into a fine powder when touched . However, when
dampened again, as is necessary in washing and scrubbing, the oiliness
returns, making cleaning extremely difficult .
(PHOTO)
Photo by Jack Mark
Pikeville College, Diary of a Flood, page 7
No full textHam Operators
Provided Crucial Services
by John Bray
The waters of the Levisa Fork
of the Big Sandy were rising in
Pikeville. By six o'clock on the
even ing of Monday, April 4,
they were approaching flood
stage - at 2 1/2 feet per hour. It
wasn't a slow spreading over the
banks as in flat lands, but a
raging torrent moving mobile
homes and all else in its path.
Hams - amateur radio
operators - are communicators.
Partially we do it because we
like to talk, but also because we
are able to provide emergency
communications, both within a
disaster area and from it to the
outside world.
So, shortly after dark early
Monday evening, several hams
and people who wanted to assist
set up a communications net-
work within the city of
Pikeville. Messages had to be
relayed within the city as well as
from ·the city to the outside
world. The threat of telephone
and electricity going out had
already been considered.
Communications were
established between the Civil
Defense and Red Cross headquarters
in the Court House, a
location at Pikeville College, ·a
mobile unit, and two units
which served as relays when
necessary. Involved in this initial
action were Denver Matney
(WA4NOG), an employee of the
post office in Pikeville;
me-John Bray (WB4WKP).
Assistant Dean of Students at
Pikeville College; Willana Call
(WA4RNOL a resident of
Pikeville; and Bobby Pickelsimer
(WB4GEL). They were assisted
by Dixie Wehrheim, a Pikeville
resident who normally works
with children who have special
sight problems.
Initially, this network was
worked through a two-meter
repeater in Pikeville. A repeater
is a device which automatically
re-transmits signals at high
power and from a great height,
giving much greater range to
mobile units transmitting at low
power. This network served as
Pikeville's only link to the
outside world (as far as we
know) through hams in Prestonsburg
whose short wave stations
were still operational.
This worked fine until the
power went off sometime
between 2 and 4 a.m. Tuesday at
the repeater site (WDHR-FM).
At that time, Pikeville's last
connection to the outside world
was severed.
I managed to drive to the top
of Peach Orchard Hill and
transmit a message describing
conditions in Pikeville during
Monday night and into Tuesday
morning so that other amateurs
in Prestonsburg could notify
Civil Defense and Red Cross
personnel in Frankfort and
Louisville.
Tuesday through Sunday are
a blur of 20-22 hour days glued
to a ham radio, transmitting
emergency messages for Civil
Defense, Red Cross and others.
One. of the first things we did
was to arrange for cots, blankets,
pillows, sheets, food and medical
supplies to be brought to the
Science Building at the college.
It had immediately been turned
into an emergency shelter for
townspeople as well as a food
center for college employees
whose homes were under water.
We radioed for insulin to be
delivered to people at the
Pikeville College shelter. We
arranged to get a girl in isolated
Phelps to a hospital; her life
expectancy would have been
three to four hours had she not
been transported - she had a
ruptured appendix. Another
person at Phelps had a stroke
and radio communications got
him to a hospital; his life
expectancy would have been one
to three hours otherwise.
On Tuesday Pikeville College
arranged a place and support
facilities for us to set up a
medium-power, high-frequency
(short wave) station using my
equipment. An antenna was
strung up between the Pikeville
College Administration Building
and a dogwood tree. Matney
operated the short wave link to
the outside world, while I
maintained the VHF, two meter
links to various emergency
headquarters in Pike County.
Dixie Wehrheim acted as
message coordinator for the
hundreds of cOmmunications
coming in and going out.
Denver and I didn't leave the
station for over fifteen hours on
Tuesday. Willana Call helped in
both parts of the station, serving
as a two-meter person and a big
rig operator. This was after the
water had risen past her house.
On Wednesday, several hams
were airlifted from Owensboro,
Kentucky, to serve as relief
operators and to set up a station
at Kermit, West Virginia. Others
were flown in from Central City,
Kentucky, to set up an
emergency communications
amateur radio station at Phelps,
Kentucky. As of April 12 this
was still the only communication
Phelps had with the rest of
the world for medical
emergencies and supplies.
Steve Morgan (WB4NHO) and
Charlie Lott (WB4ANL) came to
Pikeville while Mike Galyon
(WA4SFR) and Bill Robinson
(WA4KPE) went to Phelps. Dick
Wyatt (WA4YPI) and his son
David volunteered to drive in
from Falmouth, Kentucky. The
group of local and other hams
provided emergency communications
almost around the clock
from the station at Pikeville
College through midnight on
Sunday, April 10 (Easter
Sunday), when fairly reliable
telephone communications had
been reestablished.
As they managed to get back
on the air, other area hams gave
their services. Tom Osborne
(WA4MNM), Herschell Tackett
(K4NLY) and Cordell Damron
(K4BGQ) provided links to the
outside from Robinson Creek,
Virgie and Little Creek.
While 0llive Justice
(WB4CTV), Jim Hoskins
(W4MVU) and Doug Wright
(WA4GCX) helped link up
Pikeville with Civil Defense and
Red Cross, Bruce Olin
(WB4FBB) served as one of
Elkhorn City's links to both
Pikeville and the outside.
For most of Tuesday and
Wednesday Jack Reeves
(WB40WE) of Melvin ,
Kentucky, was Pikeville's only
connection to the telephone
system via ham radio. Many
other hams helped - Roger
Boyd (WA4LIG) served as a
mobile unit, Pat Gugliotta
(WB4NBC) contributed his
two-meter radio for use at Civil
Defense headquarters, and many
others that I'm just too exhausted
to try to think of - worked
long, hard hours to help. I
apologize to anybody I've
forgotten.
Funny things happened, too.
A national guard jeep's antenna
cut our antenna in half Friday
morning, leaving us off the air
for five hours.
I can remember being told
Saturday that it wasn't
Wednesday.
At the end we were all
approaching physical
exhaustion. But it was a good
feeling, too. In at least five cases
we had provided the communications
necessary to save lives in
medical emergencies, and knew
we had provided necessary
emergency communications
services no one else would have
been able to provide.
A large round of thanks
should go from us and the
residents of Pike County to
those radio amateurs who left
their homes and jobs for our
week of greatest trial and came
voluntarily to Pikeville and other
locations in the county to help
with their communications
skills. Unlike military units and
other professional social service
workers, these people do not get
paid by anyone for what they
do; it is truly a labor of love.
The other important labor of
love that kept many people
going throughout the week was
borne by Pikeville College. We
could never have provided
emergency communications
services had the college not given
us food, coffee, a location and
runners to deliver messages.
Even when its own employees
were suffering loss of personal
possessions and the college was
bearing up under the devastation
of its own housing and academic
facilities, the people of the
college reached out to help
others, and allowed us to help
others through the assistance
they provided us.
The flood of 1977 is over; its
ramifications will probably be
heard throughout the Big Sandy
Valley for another twenty years.
To say I was glad to be a part of
it all somehow doesn't sound
quite right. But I'm thankful I
could help; it made me proud to
be a ham and happy to be alive.
(PHOTO)
Hundreds of homeless made their way up
Elm Street to Pikeville College for food and
shelter.
Tolzman (from page 6)
Tolzman's schedule changed
entirely on Monday evening,
April 4. As people moved
furniture and pe rsonal
belongings out of the path of the
muddy Levisa Fork and
evacuated their homes, Tolzman
decided to stay on the job
through the night.
For those of us who are now
"authentic flood victims,"
helplessly watching the water
rise into out homes soon became
frustrating . Many people with in
the city proper (on the town
side of the three bridges that
cross the river into Pikeville)
climbed the hill to the Science
Building at Pikeville College.
Little did we realize that the hill
would be our home for days to
come.
Dean Tolzman and crew
provided cold cuts and coffee
for everyone. They also prepared
ice chests, coffee pots and soda
pop for the patients from
Mountain Manor Nursing Home
who arrived during the night.
"The electricity went off in
the dining room and none of the
stoves or anything would
operate after 1 a.m.," Tolzman
remembered. "We fixed cold
cuts, coffee, pop and such until
4:30 Tuesday morning. We
moved to the Bear's Den at 6
o'clock. The Bear's Den still had
electricity for some reason. We
transported the meat slicer and
supplies from the dining room to
the Den. I had a grill and a
french frye . We scrambled eggs
on the grill served coffee, juice,
milk and dry cereal from about
6 to 10:30 a.m. We also fixed
eggs, oatmeal, soup and things
for the old people over in the
Science Building and carried
them over to the people."
The rest of Tuesday, Tolzman
served sandwiches and pork and
beans, working continuously
until midnight. At that time the
electricity came back on and the
operation was moved back to
the cafeteria.
Tolzman has a total of 21
employees, including 5 students.
On Monday and Tuesday all of
them were stranded out of town
except for Joyce Robinson.
According to Tolzman she
worked continuously without
sleep from 6 a.m . Monday (when
she came on for her regular
Monday shift) until sometime
Wednesday evening. Several
other employees came back as
soon as they could get into
town.
Tolzman , whose wife Sarah is
head resident of Condit Hall at
Pikeville College, is the father of
three sons, ages five years, two
years and two months. He saw
snatches of his family du ring the
first few days after THE
FLOOD. Providing food services
for the Red Cross shelter in the
college's Science Building and
helping provide meals for other
Red Cross shelters located
throughout the area was a nonstop
responsibility.
Tolzman had plenty of
volunteer help. Many people at
Pikeville College stuck wit h him
for hours - Gary Thrash,
assistant administrator of the
mining technology program;
Alma Culton, associate professor
of religion ; Russell Patterson,
chairman of the Music Depart-
ment Phyllis Dayer, instructor
of French; students Reina
Trusty, Denise Burgy, Fred
Frederick, Rayanna Reeves, and
John Morris; and Lukie
Alemayeheu, wife of economics
instructor Tsehai Alemayeheu.
ARA Food Services and
Pikeville College can be proud of
Dean Tolzman. His decisions
were timely and sensitive. The
tremendous human needs that
had to be met. His leadership
produced an unhurried, warm
atmosphere of friendly service at
a time when others would have
been barking orders and
aggravating an already confused,
tense situation.
The personal sacrifice of
time, sleep, energy and resources
made by Tolzman and his people
made it possible for all of us to
retreat to the calm of the
cafeteria and get away from the
devastation outside. Would that
we could all react so sensibly
and selflessly