Rising Above the Waters: The Flood of 2023

The saying goes that in the Bible days, it rained 40 days and 40 nights; during that same span at anytime over the past couple of years, Phillips County residents only ended up with three-tenths of an inch.

They prayed. They waited. Some gave up. Many hung in there.  Then there are those that had marked their calendar for "90 days after a fog."

The National Weather Service had stated the flood that occurred over the last couple of weeks was the worst flood since 1965.

With that being said, a canvas of farmers and ranchers and in general, the residents of Phillips County brought together stories of the "Flood of '23." Young and old alike witnessed the power, the force, and the strength of snow and rain in volume with speed.

While the waters spreading across the land brings much needed moisture to the earth, most will contend they could have done without the devastation.

Areas hit by drought were already in a compromised status, the moisture was welcomed knowing at least it was moisture. Who knows, maybe it will be another 58 years before the earth receives another soaking of this nature.

From the northern prairies and plains of the county the melting snow turned into turbulent water with a destination, it had started just as the National Weather Service had predicted and forewarned the public through various media sources. The Phillips County News had been called and shared with the communities what the technical equipment had shown what was in store in near future.

Following the flood, several ranchers were contacted in regard to their personal encounter with the brief barrage of water.

Bill Murdock and daughter, Brenda (Murdock) Kornfeld, ranch in the northern part of the county at Loring. Brenda was asked how much warning she had before the waters hit.

"FIVE MINUTES!," Kornfeld said.

The ranch last dealt with flood waters during the flood of 2010-11. Water came with such force that Mother Nature wiped out 10 of the dikes on the ranch, including the main dike road. Muddy, murky, and sodden walls of water came relentlessly and smothered the grassland, hay meadows, and pasturage covering 12 miles.

Receding water left about a foot of silt on the hay meadows gasping for air; Bill wouldn't be surprised if it takes years for the silt to eventually soak or settle into the ground so that the fields are able to fully produce again.

With the high waters, Bill, the creative rancher that he is, who is 86 years of age, was not about to let high waters change his plans. In the midst of calving season there is an imperative need to get the mothers-to-be checked and tend to any that might need assistance or a helping nurturing hand. Just short of "ranchnecking," Bill powered up his boat and hit the waters. He maneuvered the waters and navigated the acres. Murdocks have utilized the boat, 4-wheeler, pickup and tractor to access their livestock.

Fortunately, they were able to move hay and straw to higher ground, and get the bulls situated. Damage was minimal to the home; some bank sluffing is notable around the "Hunting House" that sits on the ranch. Livestock was minimal as well, they will know more as the cows mother up with their offspring. Dikes, roads and fields took the biggest hits as far as damage.

The Murdock's are a third generation family on the ranch, and are grateful for the moisture and somewhat relaxed now that drought is not the primary concern. Leathered hands that grasp the saddle horn daily as a part of living also fold in prayer for the outcome of their rendezvous with the "Flood of 2023."

Also in the north country, the fourth generations of the Tant Anderson family experienced a similar encounter, though they had a bit more time to prepare. Jett Anderson, who lives on the ranch his grandpa Tant lived on, recall stories being shared about floods "from the ol' days ~ back in 1952, 1968, and 1978."

Being a young rancher with a young and growing family, the family includes his wife, Brianna, and sons Ryett, Rodee, and Ripp. His Dad, Brent, and two hired men, Maxime Vacher (from France), and Philly Martinsson (from Sweden), worked diligently to get the cattle to high and dry ground.

The Flood of 2011 is one Jett recalls having to deal through; the ranch has flooded three times, getting water into the calving barns. Like their ancestors, they dealt with matters as they were facing them, sometimes picking themselves up by the boot straps, dusting themselves off, pulling their hat down tighter and facing things with a vision of living the life, capturing the dream.

The Anderson crew worked and tried to save dikes with an excavator, however, dams were washed out in the rush of spring purging forth.

"P" Lake was where the action was, covers 1,000 acres of the ranch, and it is estimated that over 1,200 acres received a quick and rushing bath.

Jett was pleased that they had no loss of livestock through the ordeal. A flood of this nature and power comes in and usually leaves about as fast. It is sure one the young boys will not soon forget, and someday they will pass along ol' timer tales like their great-grandpa, Tant, only they will share how they lived though the great "Flood of 2023".

At the outskirts of the metropolis town of Whitewater, the rush came quickly as it did in surrounding acres. The bridge that unites the world to the quiet, nestled peacefully town was sitting quiet.  A doe was grazing on some brush below the bridge as residents drove over it. It was a serene day in the world and birds were singing a song of joy and happiness.

As though someone opened the flood gates at Fort Peck, within a matter of minutes the bridge and road were nearly completely covered, gushing with a message that the melting snow was in control.

Westward, by the neighboring town of Harlem, the high waters running toward Dodson required moving cattle to higher and safer ground. Pat Ditmar, astride his faithful horse, moved cattle for friends in the rapidly running chilly waters. His horse barely cleared the waters at times. Pat did not state any losses in the encounter. The deed is another characteristic of good neighbors and a helping, caring community.

Further downstream the banks of creeks and contributing streams gathered and gained momentum.  Ice jams results as downstream communities had yet received the warmer weather that initiated the roaring waters to the north and across the Canadian border. As waters traveled basements were filled, roads were impassable and as in the north country, fields and everything felt the wrath of Mother Nature. Fortunately, no deaths were reported from the tumultuous rage.

Someday, the kids will talk about the great days and flood of '23. Older generations will think about songs like, "How High's the Water, Mama?," "It Ain't Gunna Rain No More," and "I Washed My Hands In Muddy Water."

They were teaching moments, memory-making moments, and you can bet many will long remember this spring. They might even ask, "... where were you when the flood of 2023 went through?"