The Palouse River Flood

Most folks in the Palouse area are familiar with the flood in about 1996 that covered Main Street in Palouse with water and entered most all of the buildings built on the flood plain by the river. That is not the flood that I am referring to. The flood that I wish to report on was in the late Winter or early Spring of 1947 as I remember it.

Our mother had a phobia of the water and was a non-swimmer. She tended to harp on the subject of us never going near the river, for if we did she was sure that we would drown. Consequently, my brother and I were drawn to the river like moths to a candle flame. If playing by the river was denied to us, we were certain that it must be a wonderful place to go.

The Spring run-off of river flow in 1947 caused the water to rise into the City Park and flood Main Street by the park. I heard about this at school, so when school was out, I headed directly to the river to view the exciting flood. Sure enough by the old bridge near the East end of Main Street the brown muddy water was roaring by and it was surprisingly high.

The previous Summer, I and some friends had been down by the river East of this bridge looking for frogs and garter snakes. There I had observed the remains of perhaps the old flour mill, or whatever, in the form of several large square timbers bolted together, lying on the bank of the river. I remember at the time wondering if they would ever go downstream.

Wanting to get as close to the action as possible, I went down to the water's edge just East of the bridge. Sure enough, here came those timbers, floating down the river. As good, or bad luck would have it, the timbers bumped the shore exactly where I was standing, and without thinking, I impulsively hopped on board. I and the bolted together timbers picked up the rapid current in the middle of the river and went shooting through the center of town. A school friend, Mike Town was there at the time. As I floated away downstream, he ran along Main Street following me. Another friend, Raynor Lilleby, joined Mike on Main street and took up the chase.

My raft floated through the town and came to an abrupt halt when it rammed the center pier supporting the old bridge just West of the City Park. The upstream edge of my raft was pushed down by the boiling muddy water and I was concerned that it might flip to the vertical position. The flood water was swirling past on both sides. There was no hope of climbing the pier as the bridge deck was a horizontal overhang all around. Mike and Raynor were on the bridge watching my predicament. None of us had any idea of how I was going to escape this one. I was a non-swimmer, so jumping into the water was not a good idea.

While I was puzzling out what to do next, to my surprise, a big wooden box came floating down the river and banged into my raft. Without hesitating for a second, I jumped into the box and away I went downstream. To this day, I do not know where that box came from or what it had been used for. It was made of tongue and groove flooring boards and was about five feet long and three feet wide, with sides about two feet high. The inside of the box had been painted with tar or asphalt. Center stream, the water was carrying me away at just about the same speed that my friends were able to run.

My new craft carried me down the center of the river as Mike and Raynor were running along the bank and railway tracks trying to keep up with me. The improvised boat/box finally touched shore near the Colfax highway bridge, where I jumped out and joined them on the shore.

I walked home... all the while wondering if I had just experienced a real life adventure, or if I had tagged myself as the village idiot. Mother asked, "What took you so long to get home from school?" I replied, " Oh, I just went downtown to look at the flood." To my knowledge, my parents never found out about this escapade as there were no adults involved.