RAPID CITY FLOOD
BY
Dick Martin
BY
Dick Martin
Like September 11, 2001 and December 7, 1941 South Dakotans have an extra day, June 10, 1972, that they will not forget and probably remember what they were doing that day. On that day, disaster struck as Canyon Lake Dam in the Black Hills failed after 15 inches of rain fell in six hours causing Rapid Creek to overflow and flood much of Rapid City causing 238 deaths, 3,057 injuries, and 160 million in property damage. Rapid city needed help and the rest of South Dakota answered the call. Springfield did its part when
many of its citizens, as part of Company D of the 153rd National Guard Engineer Battalion, joined the effort in contributing to the recovery operations in Rapid City. For the next four weeks we will present first hand experiences from three Springfield citizens involved with the National Guard in recover operations:
This Week: National Guardsman Tim Diede describes the work of the advance party in preparing for the arrival of all of Company D to Rapid City.
Week Two: National Guardsman Lawrence Namminga Jr describes being notified of the disaster and his unit’s activation, preparation for the trip, and the apprehensive journey to Rapid City.
Week Three: National Guardsman Lawrence Namminga Jr. describes the work of Company D during the recovery operations.
Week Four: University of South Dakota student Mary Sellers, working for the state of South Dakota during her summer break, describes her work with a national guard unit in distributing food stamps.
Week Five: Those of us who were not in South Dakota in June of 1972 would like to hear everything we can about Springfield’s contribution to dealing with the flood. Operations at Chronicle headquarters are pretty loose so we can fit in a Week Five if we can get others to submit their memories, no matter what length to martinre66@outlook.com.
many of its citizens, as part of Company D of the 153rd National Guard Engineer Battalion, joined the effort in contributing to the recovery operations in Rapid City. For the next four weeks we will present first hand experiences from three Springfield citizens involved with the National Guard in recover operations:
This Week: National Guardsman Tim Diede describes the work of the advance party in preparing for the arrival of all of Company D to Rapid City.
Week Two: National Guardsman Lawrence Namminga Jr describes being notified of the disaster and his unit’s activation, preparation for the trip, and the apprehensive journey to Rapid City.
Week Three: National Guardsman Lawrence Namminga Jr. describes the work of Company D during the recovery operations.
Week Four: University of South Dakota student Mary Sellers, working for the state of South Dakota during her summer break, describes her work with a national guard unit in distributing food stamps.
Week Five: Those of us who were not in South Dakota in June of 1972 would like to hear everything we can about Springfield’s contribution to dealing with the flood. Operations at Chronicle headquarters are pretty loose so we can fit in a Week Five if we can get others to submit their memories, no matter what length to martinre66@outlook.com.
ADVANCE PARTY
BY
Major Tim Diede
BY
Major Tim Diede
Recollection of Springfield’s Company D and the Rapid City Flood of June 1972 Disaster mobilization for the Rapid City, SD flood was one of the missions Co D responded to in the history of the unit. For me, mobilization started with a phone call early in the morning and finding myself in the Springfield armory at about 0500 with fellow members of the unit. Unit members were trickling in from throughout the area and everyone was trying to discover what was going on as not too much was known at this point except there had been a flood and we needed to get to Rapid City.
At about 0530 my squad leader Sgt. Louis Cowherd hastily told me and several fellow soldiers that we were to load up and take off immediately as the “Advance Party” for the unit. We were off to Rapid City with a halt at the Wasta rest stop for fuel and then arrived at the Group Headquarters site by noon.
Our mission as Advance Party was to prepare a site for the arrival of the rest of the members of Co D and our equipment. This task involved the securing of a location for personnel and equipment and locating the various supply points for food, fuel and so forth that we would need to support the mission. This seemed like a huge task as many of us had never been to Rapid City and our group made up mostly of “young” Privates and Spec 4’s were overwhelmed with all the activity at the Group Headquarters when we reported in.
We young soldiers did not have to wait long to find out what we were to do. Returning from a meeting Sgt. Cowherd had me report directly to the mess sergeant SFC Charles Dawes. I reported to SFC Dawes who gave me the task of digging a grease pit for the kitchen and said he’d be by to inspect it later. After about an hour SFC Dawes came to inspect the grease pit and after sharing some of the finer points of grease pit construction he departed and I proceeded to complete the grease pit to specification. Other members of the advance party were assigned similar kitchen police (KP) duties. Anticipating a busy day with search and rescue we ended a long day by preparing to feed our fellow members of Co D when they arrived later in the evening.
As the day ended so did the mission for the advance party of Company D.
At about 0530 my squad leader Sgt. Louis Cowherd hastily told me and several fellow soldiers that we were to load up and take off immediately as the “Advance Party” for the unit. We were off to Rapid City with a halt at the Wasta rest stop for fuel and then arrived at the Group Headquarters site by noon.
Our mission as Advance Party was to prepare a site for the arrival of the rest of the members of Co D and our equipment. This task involved the securing of a location for personnel and equipment and locating the various supply points for food, fuel and so forth that we would need to support the mission. This seemed like a huge task as many of us had never been to Rapid City and our group made up mostly of “young” Privates and Spec 4’s were overwhelmed with all the activity at the Group Headquarters when we reported in.
We young soldiers did not have to wait long to find out what we were to do. Returning from a meeting Sgt. Cowherd had me report directly to the mess sergeant SFC Charles Dawes. I reported to SFC Dawes who gave me the task of digging a grease pit for the kitchen and said he’d be by to inspect it later. After about an hour SFC Dawes came to inspect the grease pit and after sharing some of the finer points of grease pit construction he departed and I proceeded to complete the grease pit to specification. Other members of the advance party were assigned similar kitchen police (KP) duties. Anticipating a busy day with search and rescue we ended a long day by preparing to feed our fellow members of Co D when they arrived later in the evening.
As the day ended so did the mission for the advance party of Company D.
RECOVERY OPERATIONS
BY
Lawrence Namminga, Jr.
BY
Lawrence Namminga, Jr.
To quote President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, “A date that will live in infamy.” That quote could be used by South Dakotans as it is applied to the June 9, 1972 flood in Rapid City, South Dakota when 238 people lost their lives in the “Rapid City Flood”. For me, the emergency started after a day of working in the hay fields outside of Cody, NE, and my wife Cheri and I loading up the car and heading to Springfield for a night’s rest in preparation for the June guard drill of Company D, 153rd Engineer Battalion in Springfield the next morning. When leaving Cody, I remember commenting to Cheri that the Thunder Heads really were quite large to the west, even though we were 140 miles SE of the Black Hills.
We got to bed by 11:30 in my parents’ home and at 1:30 my dad woke me up and told me that I needed to report to the armory immediately. Little did I know that my two hours of sleep would be all that I would receive for the time covering the 48 hours prior and after my call up. Upon arriving, I heard that our unit and all of the National Guard units in the state, had been activated because of a flood in the Rapid City area. We had no idea of just how serious it really was. As guard members started to arrive, trucks were loaded with all of our equipment in preparation for the trip to the Hills. The unit proved to itself just how important readiness was in that it enabled us load all of the unit’s equipment that was stored in the armory in a very short amount of time. Most of the rest of Company D personnel had arrived by 5:00 a.m. and we were loaded and moved out of Springfield shortly after sunrise on our trip to Rapid City.
The trip out was uneventful and those of us that had transistor radios with us tried to listen to news reports that gave us a clue as to what we were facing. (We sometimes forget just how advanced communication and instant news reports are today as compared to 40 years ago; we really were in the dark!) Disbelief is the best word to describe what we were hearing on damage done and the lives lost and/or missing in those brief snippets of news coverage. When we got past the Ellsworth Air Force Base exit on Interstate 90, we began to see just how violent the flood must have been. Several sections of the interstate had been washed away and destroyed and water was still moving rapidly in the affected creeks, but nothing could prepare us for what we saw when we entered Rapid City.
Before I begin the narrative of the 153rd’s time in Rapid City starting with the day after the flood, I need to emphasize the volume of traffic that was coming into the city by the National Guard convoys and other relief vehicles. The 153rd Engineer Battalion, of which the Springfield Unit was a part, was composed of five companies, A, B, C, D and Headquarters Company. Each of the companies probably had 20+ vehicles of various sizes and styles. Jeeps, dump trucks, cargo deuce & a half, five ton trucks pulling caterpillars and other heavy construction equipment were entering Rapid City. There were probably another four or five Battalions that were also arriving in the city at the approximate same time, so getting everyone to their assigned areas was a major endeavor. Added to that, Camp Rapid already had quite a few Guard Units bivouacked there because their two-week annual training had already begun.
When we arrived within the city limits of Rapid City, we were escorted to our bivouac area, high and dry in the western part of Rapid City. We were escorted because there still wasn’t any electricity within Rapid City proper and in many cases no traffic lights that were operable even if electricity were available.
On our way to the bivouac area we encountered mud, dirt, downed trees, and so many cars and trucks that were overturned, stacked against each other, and covered with mud. I found one car unusual, in particular, because it was resting on the back bumper and the front was resting high on a light pole. It was only the next day that we found out that when the car was removed there were bodies inside.
When we arrived at the bivouac area, we started to set up camp. Since, at that time, I was assigned as a cook in the mess section, we immediately began to set up the outdoor kitchen, but if I remember correctly. our first night’s meal was C rations, as food wasn’t available at that late hour. Still, another cook and I went to several of the big grocery stores in the Rapid City area so that we would be able to provide a good breakfast to start the next day. We needed to get enough provisions to get us by until the National Guard’s supply system was able to provide us what we needed. One grocery store, in particular, was very helpful as it urged us to take a lot of perishable items since they would probably spoil if they couldn’t get rid of them soon.
Our unit spent a great deal of time looking for bodies, the destruction and hauling away of destroyed houses and debris, and assisting in whatever ways we were called on to assist local authorities reestablish a semblance of order in a unprecedented disaster. For some reason, as I was leaving Springfield, I had thrown a camera and several rolls of film in my duffel bag. I still have those photos as a reminder of how nature can throw disasters our way at the most unexpected times. It is good that each state has a well prepared National Guard system in place that is responsible to the governor for disasters that can arise.
There are so many interesting and tragic stories that I did not personally witness, but have heard from National Guard personnel that were present during the flood that tell of heroism, persistence, and tragedy. A friend, who happened to be in Rapid City at the time, witnessed the water rising around his car in the intersection while he waited for the light to change. He got through the intersection and was able to get to high ground, but he watched the car right behind him get washed away in Rapid Creek. He was listed as missing for two or three days until he finally got word that he was on the missing person’s list and got the error corrected.
The entire experience in Rapid City will never be forgotten and I am very proud that our National Guard unit was able to be a part of the recovery operations.
RAPID CITY FLOOD
By Gary and Joyce Romkema
By Gary and Joyce Romkema
In January of 1972, shortly after I returned home from basic training at Fort Leonard Wood MO, my wife and I, along with our baby girl, Sheila, moved from Springfield SD to the Black Hills. I found a job doing carpentry work for a contractor in Rapid Valley.
The ninth of June started out as any normal day. From our home in Box Elder, near Ellsworth Air Force Base, I drove to work in west Rapid to finish up some small details in a house my construction crew had been building.
By noon that day the weather service had issued thunder storm warnings for mid-afternoon. By quitting time at 5:00 pm there were a few clouds in the sky. By 7:00 pm there was thunder and lightning. Around 8:00 pm the telephone rang. It was the voice of Sargent Mike O'Connor. “The 235th Supply Company is being activated,” he said. “We are to report to the Armory in Rapid City by 9:00 pm.”
We knew there was some flooding in Rapid City, but Box Elder is eight miles from Rapid City, so we felt no
concern for our own safety. After Gary left, I slept peacefully. I had no idea what kind of night he was
experiencing.
I was sent, along with five other personnel, to Baken Park to stop traffic from crossing the bridge. Most people turned around, but not everyone. An older, somewhat inebriated gentleman drove right past us and almost reached the bridge. But the current pushed his car into the ditch and up against a tree. He was able to climb out of the car and up into the tree. “Get me out of this tree!” he yelled. Our squad leader, Mike, told us to just leave him there, since his life was not in danger. His behavior had not moved any of us to compassion.
By this time it was dark, and the water was getting so deep that it went over the bridge. There had been fourteen inches of rain in a very short time in Dark Canyon, west of Rapid City. At one point the canyon is forty feet wide, and the water was twenty feet deep at that spot. When this wall of water hit the Canyon Lake dam west of Rapid, the dam broke, quickly flooding all low lying areas of the city.
A young man came floating down Rapid Creek toward us. We yelled at him to climb onto the bridge, and he did so. He began to come toward us through the water. We tried to tell him to go the opposite direction to avoid the downed power line in the water between him and us. But the noise of the rushing water made it impossible for him to hear us. As he came closer, he was overcome by the current coursing through the water. We tried to get to him and help, but the current was just too strong. After a few minutes his head went under water, and we never saw him again. It was not easy to helplessly watch that tragic end to his struggle. During our two hours at the bridge we dragged four bodies from the water, placed them in body bags, and loaded them into rescue vans. Another emotionally difficult task.
At midnight, we were called to rescue twelve mentally challenged kids from a home in Piedmont. We drove a five-ton dump truck toward the area. On the way, we needed to go through a low area in the road. The water was so deep the headlights were under water. The force of the water pushed the truck into the ditch. We were stuck. The water was about six inches deep in the truck, so we climbed on top and sat there for several hours in the rain. Early the next morning the water had begun to recede, and we were able to walk to solid ground. We never found out what happened to the family we were sent to rescue.
The next morning, I was awakened by a loud thump. Assuming it was Gary returning home, I got up
to hear about his adventures. As I glanced out the bedroom window, I remember thinking it must
have rained a lot the night before because the whole backyard was covered with water. I went into
the kitchen. No sign of my husband. I opened the door to the garage justin time to see his tool box
floating toward the open garage door. I grabbed a broom and managed to guide it into the kitchen.
I later learned the noise that awakened me was the neighbor's car bumping up against the side of our
garage. By this time I was fully awake and realized there was cause for concern. But I did not swing
into panic mode until the water started seeping into the house through the furnace vents. That's when
I turned on the radio and learned that the flood waters from Rapid City had reached Box Elder.
The water was no longer moving as rapidly, but there was still enough force to float cars and propane
tanks past our picture window.
I called the Civil Defense telephone number that was given for people who needed assistance.
I then gathered up baby supplies, a few necessities and my daughter. By this time there was
about a foot of water in the house, so we sat on the kitchen table, waiting to be rescued.
The Avon Clarion reported that we were sitting on top of the house, but that was a slight exaggeration.
Before long a motorboat stopped in front of our house. Harlan DeJong, a long-time friend of ours
from Springfield, who was also living in Rapid City, had driven out to Box Elder. He found a private
individual with a boat and convinced the owner to pick us up. Civil Defense had more pressing
matters to tend to and never did come to our aid. Gary's brother, Jay was also living in Rapid City
at this time. He drove out later that day, walked from the road to our house, stepped in a ditch
and was completely under water for a time. He can't swim.
Many Box Elder residents were temporarily taken to Ellsworth, but I was able to find a ride to Harlan
and Fran DeJong's house on higher ground in Rapid. We stayed about a week with them until we
were able to move home. Some of Gary's fellow employees were kind enough to move our furniture
out of our house and hosed it down on the lawn of his boss's house. The flood waters contained
all sorts of contaminants and acids that could quickly eat away at wood and upholstery. I cleaned
flood mud out of my piano several years later.
The flood was much kinder to us than to those who lost all their possessions, loved ones, or even their own lives. Besides the destruction everywhere, the awful smell of decay in the city and the buzz of planes spraying for bugs were an ugly reminder of what had happened. There was no electricity for several hours. Phone lines were down, so people were unable to reach concerned family members. Water was unsafe for consumption for several days.
For a week after the flood my 235th Supply Company passed out blankets and other necessities to those who needed them. During the drills for the next three months, our job was to probe the 10 – 15 feet of silt in the creek beds, searching for missing cars and bodies. None were ever found by our unit.
The ninth of June started out as any normal day. From our home in Box Elder, near Ellsworth Air Force Base, I drove to work in west Rapid to finish up some small details in a house my construction crew had been building.
By noon that day the weather service had issued thunder storm warnings for mid-afternoon. By quitting time at 5:00 pm there were a few clouds in the sky. By 7:00 pm there was thunder and lightning. Around 8:00 pm the telephone rang. It was the voice of Sargent Mike O'Connor. “The 235th Supply Company is being activated,” he said. “We are to report to the Armory in Rapid City by 9:00 pm.”
We knew there was some flooding in Rapid City, but Box Elder is eight miles from Rapid City, so we felt no
concern for our own safety. After Gary left, I slept peacefully. I had no idea what kind of night he was
experiencing.
I was sent, along with five other personnel, to Baken Park to stop traffic from crossing the bridge. Most people turned around, but not everyone. An older, somewhat inebriated gentleman drove right past us and almost reached the bridge. But the current pushed his car into the ditch and up against a tree. He was able to climb out of the car and up into the tree. “Get me out of this tree!” he yelled. Our squad leader, Mike, told us to just leave him there, since his life was not in danger. His behavior had not moved any of us to compassion.
By this time it was dark, and the water was getting so deep that it went over the bridge. There had been fourteen inches of rain in a very short time in Dark Canyon, west of Rapid City. At one point the canyon is forty feet wide, and the water was twenty feet deep at that spot. When this wall of water hit the Canyon Lake dam west of Rapid, the dam broke, quickly flooding all low lying areas of the city.
A young man came floating down Rapid Creek toward us. We yelled at him to climb onto the bridge, and he did so. He began to come toward us through the water. We tried to tell him to go the opposite direction to avoid the downed power line in the water between him and us. But the noise of the rushing water made it impossible for him to hear us. As he came closer, he was overcome by the current coursing through the water. We tried to get to him and help, but the current was just too strong. After a few minutes his head went under water, and we never saw him again. It was not easy to helplessly watch that tragic end to his struggle. During our two hours at the bridge we dragged four bodies from the water, placed them in body bags, and loaded them into rescue vans. Another emotionally difficult task.
At midnight, we were called to rescue twelve mentally challenged kids from a home in Piedmont. We drove a five-ton dump truck toward the area. On the way, we needed to go through a low area in the road. The water was so deep the headlights were under water. The force of the water pushed the truck into the ditch. We were stuck. The water was about six inches deep in the truck, so we climbed on top and sat there for several hours in the rain. Early the next morning the water had begun to recede, and we were able to walk to solid ground. We never found out what happened to the family we were sent to rescue.
The next morning, I was awakened by a loud thump. Assuming it was Gary returning home, I got up
to hear about his adventures. As I glanced out the bedroom window, I remember thinking it must
have rained a lot the night before because the whole backyard was covered with water. I went into
the kitchen. No sign of my husband. I opened the door to the garage justin time to see his tool box
floating toward the open garage door. I grabbed a broom and managed to guide it into the kitchen.
I later learned the noise that awakened me was the neighbor's car bumping up against the side of our
garage. By this time I was fully awake and realized there was cause for concern. But I did not swing
into panic mode until the water started seeping into the house through the furnace vents. That's when
I turned on the radio and learned that the flood waters from Rapid City had reached Box Elder.
The water was no longer moving as rapidly, but there was still enough force to float cars and propane
tanks past our picture window.
I called the Civil Defense telephone number that was given for people who needed assistance.
I then gathered up baby supplies, a few necessities and my daughter. By this time there was
about a foot of water in the house, so we sat on the kitchen table, waiting to be rescued.
The Avon Clarion reported that we were sitting on top of the house, but that was a slight exaggeration.
Before long a motorboat stopped in front of our house. Harlan DeJong, a long-time friend of ours
from Springfield, who was also living in Rapid City, had driven out to Box Elder. He found a private
individual with a boat and convinced the owner to pick us up. Civil Defense had more pressing
matters to tend to and never did come to our aid. Gary's brother, Jay was also living in Rapid City
at this time. He drove out later that day, walked from the road to our house, stepped in a ditch
and was completely under water for a time. He can't swim.
Many Box Elder residents were temporarily taken to Ellsworth, but I was able to find a ride to Harlan
and Fran DeJong's house on higher ground in Rapid. We stayed about a week with them until we
were able to move home. Some of Gary's fellow employees were kind enough to move our furniture
out of our house and hosed it down on the lawn of his boss's house. The flood waters contained
all sorts of contaminants and acids that could quickly eat away at wood and upholstery. I cleaned
flood mud out of my piano several years later.
The flood was much kinder to us than to those who lost all their possessions, loved ones, or even their own lives. Besides the destruction everywhere, the awful smell of decay in the city and the buzz of planes spraying for bugs were an ugly reminder of what had happened. There was no electricity for several hours. Phone lines were down, so people were unable to reach concerned family members. Water was unsafe for consumption for several days.
For a week after the flood my 235th Supply Company passed out blankets and other necessities to those who needed them. During the drills for the next three months, our job was to probe the 10 – 15 feet of silt in the creek beds, searching for missing cars and bodies. None were ever found by our unit.
A SUMMER TO REMEMBER
BY
Mary Martin Sellers
BY
Mary Martin Sellers
A fellow student and I from the University of South Dakota headed to Rapid City to spend the last summer (1972) of our college careers as interns for the South Dakota State Department of Public Welfare. We were barely two weeks into our internship when the whole scope of it changed drastically. The rain started on a Friday night and we were out spending the evening doing what college kids do on Friday evenings. We came out of the club to a hard driving rain. We stopped at a restaurant to eat before going home. While in the restaurant, the power went out. Candles were put on the tables and we thought it was pretty cool. When we left the restaurant to go to our car the water was ankle deep. We had to take a different way home. In the middle of the night, the phone rang and one of my roommate’s mothers called to see if we were alright. That was our first inkling as to how serious the flood was. Our rental house was away from where the most damage was.
That night, June 9, 1972, 15 inches of rain dropped over a six-hour period in that area of the Black Hills. Monday morning, we got our instructions: Keystone, which is about 30 miles from Rapid City, was heavily damaged by flooding. Our new duties included issuing emergency food stamps with a National Guard escort and relocating people to emergency housing in the Keystone area. Because there was a curfew in place in Rapid City those first weeks after the flood, the Guard was instrumental in transporting people that needed to be out after curfew. This was just one small area where the Guard was vital in the recovery from the flood. I remember news stories relating rescues by the Guard. I’m not sure about this, but I believe there was a training camp for the Guard going on in the Hills at the time of the flood. We would see the Guard everywhere doing things like directing traffic, etc.
It was an experience of a lifetime for us and we were fortunate to be able to work with the National Guard and be a part of the recovery.
That night, June 9, 1972, 15 inches of rain dropped over a six-hour period in that area of the Black Hills. Monday morning, we got our instructions: Keystone, which is about 30 miles from Rapid City, was heavily damaged by flooding. Our new duties included issuing emergency food stamps with a National Guard escort and relocating people to emergency housing in the Keystone area. Because there was a curfew in place in Rapid City those first weeks after the flood, the Guard was instrumental in transporting people that needed to be out after curfew. This was just one small area where the Guard was vital in the recovery from the flood. I remember news stories relating rescues by the Guard. I’m not sure about this, but I believe there was a training camp for the Guard going on in the Hills at the time of the flood. We would see the Guard everywhere doing things like directing traffic, etc.
It was an experience of a lifetime for us and we were fortunate to be able to work with the National Guard and be a part of the recovery.