THE FLOOD GATES OPENED AND THE RAIN FELL

My Daddy said the wind blew so hard one time, it blew a rooster wrong side out. Now, I couldn't imagine that, but I knew what he meant. People in Arkansas always say if you don't like the weather, wait a few minutes and it’ll change. Seems they have something for everyone. A forty-degree change of weather in one day is pretty drastic. Going from sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit to twenty-eight in one day isn’t common but not unheard of. I want to tell you about one day when that happened.

In November of 1950 we were getting ready to start back to school for the winter semester. In those days, the school term was eight months. School was out in mid May until mid July and again from mid September to mid November. Before the mechanization of farming, those little hands were needed, in order for the cotton to be planted and gathered. All of our lives and all of our neighbors' lives depended on that. We’d been rapidly gathering in the cotton to get it to the market. The Korean War had broken out in June of that year. Lint cotton was selling for forty-eight cents a pound. We’d hauled off twenty-five bales. We were having a great year. Looked like we might get the crop loan paid and have something left over.

On the morning of the seventh we’d set up the wagon to pick the last part of the cotton on the north side of the house. The sun was shining and it looked like it was going to be a nice warm day. Around noon a quiet stillness came over the earth, and the birds had stopped singing. Ol’ Pal seemed a little nervous. He hung around close to where I was. He’d come rub up against me and whine. I’d ask him, “What's the matter, feller?” He’d be content for a little while and then start up again. The mares had seemed irritated with each other that morning when we hooked them up to relocate the wagon. No breeze was blowing and it seemed kind of eerie. Strange weather patterns were a part of our lives. We paid little attention to these things unless we could see evidence of a storm.

About three o'clock in the afternoon, a cloud about the size of a horse drawn wagon appeared in the west. It was dark gray, almost black, and traveling fast. As it came near it began to spread out across the horizon. The closer it came, the lower it looked. Lightening was coming out from all sides as it made its approach. The wind began to pick up and blow. The trees in the near by woods swayed, bending half way to the ground, giving up their autumn colored leaves. I watched as they came tumbling up the long rows. The cloud moved quickly toward us heading east. It was gaining speed and getting darker as it came. Within fifteen minutes, it reached across the whole western horizon. Lightening flashed unceasingly and the loud angry rumble of the thunder became constant. The four to six red and white lines of lightening coming down from the heavens looked like a dance of fire. My Daddy and the General were picking cotton behind The Jeaner Jackson and me. I was watching for My Daddy to give the signal that it was time to cover up the cotton with the wagon sheet and head to the house. Ol’ Pal had moved closer to me and now had a constant whine in his throat.

I saw My Daddy and the General coming and they motioned for me to go to the wagon. Big drops of rain started to fall. The cloud was now moving in right over our heads. I picked up my sack and threw it over my shoulder and started walking rapidly toward the wagon. There was a lone giant oak we sometimes rested under in the middle of the field. Suddenly, there was a crack and I heard an explosion. The top of the big oak had burst into fire. The electricity from the lightening traveled down the tree in a fiery frenzy. When it hit the ground, it bounced back up about five feet, and ran around the tree changing colors from bright white, red, to blue. I felt the heat. My whole body tingled with the electricity. My hair literally stood up on end and I started to run. I was scared now. I felt the wind change from warm to cold, almost instantly, as it ripped through my thin shirt. A few seconds later the rain turned to hail.

We were about five hundred yards from the house. The General's Aide, with her little tote bag, had been with the General and My Daddy. The General swooped her up. Upon reaching us she grabbed The Jeaner Jackson by the hand, leaned into the wind, and made a beeline for the house. My Daddy grabbed the wagon sheet, and we started covering the wagon. Ol’ Pal’s fur was soaked and he crawled under the wagon, whining softly. I knew he could hear things our human ears couldn't. He seemed to be saying hurry. He looked forlorn standing under there shaking from the cold, driving wind. We quickly covered the wagon and I gave a quick look at the smoldering oak. My Daddy motioned toward the house with his head and we struck out running. The wind and hail mixed with rain pelted us with a driving force. We entered the house shaking from the cold wind and wet clothes. “My goodness, get on some dry clothes quick,” the General ordered.

Then the wind started to blow at the speed of a hurricane. The old house began to shake and tremble as the wind picked up velocity. Suddenly, the top front window in the living room came crashing on to the floor. The cold wind and rain ripped through the house knocking pictures off the wall and sent things flying. The General grabbed a blanket and hurried to the window. My Daddy ran for the hammer, grabbed some tacks, and started tacking it into place. We could hear the shingles go flying as the wind ripped them off the roof. In minutes, the old house was leaking like a sieve. My Daddy and the General went scurrying about placing pots and pans here and there to catch the water. The constant drip, drip, drip, drip made a musical sound as the water fell into the metal pots and pans.

The General had us children to put on our shoes and jackets. She then placed us on the bed in the living room where she and My Daddy slept. She then covered us with a big quilt. “Don't worry. There is an Angel of the Lord above the house and he's been sent to protect us. If you have faith you won’t be afraid,” she told us. I’d have felt better if I could’ve seen or talked to the angel myself. The wind blew off half of the shingles from the old house. The hail beat out all of the remaining front windowpanes. We huddled, prayed and waited for the storm to pass. About nine in the evening, the wind died down. The thunder and lightening stopped and a hard, steady rain commenced to fall.

We slept in our clothes that night. When I woke up the next morning I could hear the General moving around in the kitchen preparing breakfast. My Daddy was patching the blown out windows. I could hear the rain still falling. It rained all that day and all that night. On the north side of the house, there was a sea of water stretching as far as the eye could see. The second day it stopped in the morning, and the clouds lifted for a while. My Daddy said, “Good, looks like it’s over.” Then, the heavens darkened again and a steady downpour started to fall. It rained five days and nights.

In the early morning of the sixth day, the rain stopped. We were now surrounded on all four sides by water. The house had been built on a high spot right at the edge of the woods. It seemed we were the only thing not covered by water. The people in the sawmill camp had packed up and left two days earlier. The water covered our yard and could be heard slapping the boards underneath the house. I stepped out the door and looked into the woods, then the General came out on the porch with My Daddy.

“My heavens, look at this,” she said.

“Well, that's the end of our cotton crop,” My Daddy replied.

The General looked at him. “Do you think the hogs found a high knoll out there somewhere?”

“I sure hope so.” he answered in a low voice filled with desperation and quiet resignation.

You remember that we’d moved to the Company Farm in 1949 to get rich growing them ol’ hogs. We’d gone to feed them religiously, almost everyday, so they wouldn’t become too wild. We had pigs having pigs and those pigs had pigs. We had over two hundred head of them ol’ boys out there in the woods, somewhere. I was remembering My Daddy had planned to let them get fat off the fallen acorns, then, have a big hog drive.

“When we sell off them ol’ hogs, we’ll probably have enough money that we won't have to borrow to make the crop next year. If the price of cotton holds, maybe we'll even buy a tractor,” he’d said.

“Good, I want to get these kids out of these woods as soon as possible. I'd like to get somewhere so we can have electricity,” the General commented.

“We will. We will,” he’d answered.

We were all standing on the porch feeling quite hopeless. Then a voice came through the woods off to the right, “Hey there! Anyone alive?” Then we heard Uncle Tom’s big laugh. He came into view paddling a wooden rowboat. Ol’ Ahab sat up front looking quite regal. Ol’ Pal let out a happy “Hello” bark. Just seeing someone else made me feel better. I waved and smiled.

Uncle Tom had made this ol’ boat in the summer. I’d visited with him during its construction and we’d made a few jokes about it coming in handy if there was ever a flood. The jokes had become a reality. It looked like a pretty good ol’ boat. It did have a little seepage coming in the front. It was right along the edge of the seam where the caulking had receded when the wood dried. Didn’t look like anything serious.

“Tom, any high spots out there?” called out My Daddy.

“None I've seen. Cache River is out of her banks. I've never seen anything like it in my life,” Uncle Tom called back as he rowed up to our porch.

“Tom, will you give me a hand? I’ll get some corn, and let’s go see if there are any hogs over on that big hickory ridge by the fourteen-acre field. That's about the highest place around. Don't you think?”

“Shore, man!” Us go take a look.”

Ol’ Ahab had started moving around, kind of anxious like. “Can you get in here, Dick, and hold Ol’ Ahab?” he asked. I loaded into the boat. It wobbled a little as I entered. “Sit down and don't move around,” he cautioned. My Daddy had put on his knee high, black gumboots and waded to the barn and got a sack of corn. By the time we got everything loaded and underway it was about nine in the morning.

We were soon out of sight of the house. I didn't recognize anything. It all looked different without the familiar landmarks. It was a dark, cloudy day and a chilly breeze was blowing. It was probably only in the forties, but I was chilled to the bone. The water reflected the sky, appearing dark and ominous. Treetops from the cut timber came floating by. I didn’t recognize any landmarks. Uncle Tom paddled in a westerly direction as we sat silently in the boat.

“Damn hard to know where we are,” Uncle Tom commented.

“Go up about where that tall, sweet gum is and cut over south. I think I know about where we are,” My Daddy answered.

We turned south at the sweet gum and continued on for about forty-five minutes. We were like strangers in a foreign land. Ahab moved around a little and seemed nervous. Petting him seemed to calm us both down. We plowed on through the water.

Then Uncle Tom gave a low whistle, “Damn, look at that,” he said. I caught my breath as I stared. There, in front of us, was a little strip of land about eight feet by twelve sticking up out of the water. Looked like there might be thirty or so hogs jammed up on the little knoll. They were fighting and jostling each other around. These were the survivors. They were the boars and the bigger sows. Miraculously, a few pigs scurried underneath the herd. “My God, look at this!” My Daddy exclaimed. Surrounding the little island were about a hundred and seventy-five dead hogs. Carnage, carnage, on all sides. The half submerged, bloated, dead carcasses bobbled in the water as the boat’s waves rippled against them. The smell of putrefied flesh hung heavy in the air.

Uncle Tom gave My Daddy a sad look and shook his head from side to side in disbelief. He knew the reason for our moving here, and why we’d subjected ourselves to these primitive living conditions. He knew all of our hopes and dreams now lay dead around us. My Daddy's face told the whole story. “The water is rising, Johnny. Try feeding them what corn you got, and maybe they’ll settle down. Them damn boars are gonna kill’em all,” he said. My Daddy threw a few ears of corn up on the muddy rise. The big hogs tore into the corn with such ferociousness that it scared us. We looked at each other. The feeling of danger started creeping into the boat. The small pigs had been pushed back to the edge of the water. “Us try to grab a couple of them ol’ pigs. Can you get the boat in there a little closer, Tom?” My Daddy asked.

Now, Ol’ Ahab and I agreed on one thing. There was not enough room in that boat for an ol’ boar hog. Maybe they were busy eating and maybe they weren't. Two ton of beasts fighting for their survival is a site to behold and hard to imagine if you’ve never seen it. Uncle Tom maneuvered the boat in close and My Daddy jumped out and ran up behind a group of them ol’ pigs. He grabbed two of them by the hind legs, jerked them off the ground and came a running. They were a squealing and a kicking. Uncle Tom looked at me and laughed nervously. I was afraid we were all gonna get killed. I think Ol’ Ahab was remembering losing his leg; he didn't even bark but just moved around all nervous like and whined. My Daddy reached the boat and fairly threw them ol’ pigs inside. Right behind him, came an ol’ big mama sow doing about forty five miles per hour. Looked like she meant business too. “Get in the damn boat, Johnny!” Uncle Tom yelled. The rescued pigs jumped out the other side and into the water. My Daddy jumped into the boat, less than ten seconds ahead of that ol’ sow, and rolled on his side away from her. She hit the boat with a thud almost capsizing us. I held on to each side trying to steady her up as she dipped and took on water. Uncle Tom backed her off a safe distance. The pigs had gotten back on the island by this time. They humped up and ran around going OINK, OINK, OINK, OINK. The mama sow stood over them. Her hair bristled and her mouth was wide open. She was telling them it was okay with a loud YUNK, YUNK, YUNK, YUNK.

After a few minutes had passed Uncle Tom looked at My Daddy. “What you want to do now, Johnny?” he asked.

“I don't know. I guess we can wait a couple of days until the water goes down a little and come back and try to swim them out of here,” he answered.

For the next few days, we boated back to the island and fed them trying to keep them alive. As the water receded we tried to get them to swim behind the boat by feeding them a little corn. They’d swim out a few feet then go back. Each day a few more would die.

We finally rescued five hogs from the herd. Three of those we saved were big, mean boars. They were stronger than the others and managed to get most of the feed. We also managed to save one big ol’ sow. Seemed she could hold her own against them ol’ boys. She had a little yellow, spotted pig that weighed about twenty-five pounds with her. It seemed no less than a miracle to us that the piglet had survived. We decided to keep this little gal. Surely, the principalities that rule the earth must favor any ol’ pig that could live where so many others had died. Ol’ Spot stayed with us many a year and kept a steady supply of bacon on the table. She was also a reminder of how mysterious life could be and what one could survive with a little luck.

That was it for us on the Company Farm. The General had given in to My Daddy so he could follow his dream. His dream had turned into a nightmare. The sawmill crew had cut down my beautiful forest. The small game that had lived there when we first arrived had all but disappeared. Big ruts had been cut in the forest floor where the big logs had been dragged. The once beautiful landscape had been disfigured. Where I once couldn’t see the sky for the canopy of green leaves there was now an open sky. Just a few little scrub trees were all that was left. We’d lost Ol’ Gray, my Thunder had died and polio had killed Jearline. We’d walked miles in the mud to go to school, been denied electricity and forced to live under terrible conditions.

Enough is enough! My Daddy was soon to rent the George Price farm. It was up on the gravel road. The school bus would pass right in front of the house and it was wired for electricity. We didn't know it at the time, but the General was about to give birth to the last link of the family circle. She’d decided it was not going to happen in these woods. We were on our way out of here, hopefully to a better life.