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Rick Harris owns the Bootleg Hill Room in Davenport, Iowa. (KC McGinnis / for the Washington Post)
DAVENPORT, IOWA – The Half Nelson restaurant was well stocked and well prepared for its official opening Tuesday, a high-end addition to the local businesses that anchor this waterfront city.
But then, a temporary flood barrier broke, throwing Mississippi torrents of water into the kitchen of the restaurant toward the custom-made walnut tiled bar. By the time the river reached its high point on Thursday, co-owner Matthew Osborn had barely had time to nap while monitoring the pipes, pumps and generators and shipping supplies. .
"I went for tetanus shots and fell asleep in an armchair," said Osborn, perched on an elevated bench next to two pairs of waders that hung upside down to allow emptying. .
For years, Davenport was the only major city in Upper Mississippi to withstand permanent flood protection, opting instead for an environmentally sound approach of "encompassing" the natural flow of the river with parks, wetlands and rivers. buildings in the shelter of floods.
This strategy had borne fruit until this week, when the city's removable barricade system did not withstand the record flood of the river, fueled by prolonged rain, snowmelt and saturated soil.
The river reached its record of 22.64 feet on Thursday, beating the previous record of 1993, according to the national meteorological service. The water flooded several blocks from downtown and about 30 residents had to be rescued by boat.
City officials fear the threat has not passed, with more rain forecast for Sunday and Monday. But it is the long-term threat – caused by larger and more frequent floods, caused by extreme weather conditions and the development of riverbanks – that is causing people to lose confidence in temporary barricades.
"I've always been neutral," said Mike Osborn, Matthew's father, owner of two other restaurants in the area and described the Half Nelson as a $ 1.4 million investment. "Now, I'm in favor of a flood wall."
Rick Harris, owner of the nearby Bootleg Hill coffeehouse, was more outspoken than his sons and employees swept water through holes drilled in the new soil.
"It's crazy," he said of temporary barriers. "The city does not take its responsibilities."
All agree that the challenges ahead are immense and universal. The enigma of Davenport is that of the United States – not only along major waterways, but also in suburban creeks that burst into sudden fury in the face of new developments.
The latest Iowa flood comes as cities across the state are still recovering from dam breaches along the Missouri River, which plunged large tracts of the Midwest underwater in March, causing more than $ 1.6 billion worth of damage in Iowa. On April 11, the governor of Iowa, Kim Reynolds (right), declared the state of emergency in Scott County, where Davenport is located, one of the 61 Counties of Iowa suffering from soggy soil and epic floods.
Less than a month later, she visited downtown Friday flooded 103,000 people in this city of eastern Iowa, by golf cart, accompanied by Mayor Frank Klipsch . They went out to wade down the street near Half Nelson to take a closer look at the flooded cars and chat briefly with business owners.
"I can not control the weather," Reynolds said. "But we will come back stronger than ever, and we are open to business."
She later tweeted she and Davenport officials "are engaged in a recovery plan that works in the short and long term."
Davenport Mayor Frank Klipsch heads for the Peterson Paper Apartments while he stops to speak with Iowa Governor Kim Reynolds (right), at the same time. a guided tour of the affected area. (Kevin E. Schmidt / Quad City Times / Associated Press)
However, he stated that the city remained committed to the path that Davenport had set for itself decades ago, when it ignored a dike construction plan and decided to "make peace" with it. river, creating a picturesque nine-mile waterfront.
"We have a beautiful riverbank and we want it to stay that way," said the mayor Thursday. "If we erect a flood wall, it will flood the waters in Arkansas, Louisiana and Missouri, and worsen their problems."
Davenport's idiosyncratic approach to flood control dates back more than half a century, when municipal leaders considered the possibility of building a permanent flood wall following a flood in 1965. The residents have resisted this idea and the city's tax conservatives had Teri Goodman, deputy city director upstream of Dubuque, whose father helped develop the plan, said an expensive infrastructure project.
Instead, the city has built flood-adapted buildings and created parks and marshes in low-lying areas so that seasonal flood waters have a place to go. They installed removable aluminum flood walls around its historic stadium to keep it dry.
Mike Clarke, a former Davenport Public Works Director who is now a public servant in St. Pete Beach, Florida, said the city's waterfront management was "visionary".
"The idea is to work with nature and let nature act, not to hinder it," Clarke said. "Davenport has done a fantastic job in this area. Do not argue with nature. In an argument with man and nature, nature wins 100% of the time. "
But he blamed the city for not doing enough to prepare for this flood. The river was blocked only by a row of temporary gates, but Clarke thinks that the city should have stacked them at least twice.
"They have not positioned themselves for flood protection at the necessary level," he said.
Kathy Wine, executive director of the non-profit environmental organization River Action, believes that maintaining the city in connection with Mississippi has long-term regional benefits, while protecting key infrastructure such as water treatment.
Wine, who had just finished finding a dry space for the content of her flooded office, remains firm in the determination she made public in the mid-1980s, when she installed a giant plywood barrier in a waterfront park to show citizens what they would lose if they built a wall.
Since then, she has found an ally within the US Army Corps of Engineers and encouraged the city to launch innovative projects such as the Figge Art Museum, featuring an elevated first floor allowing the Water flowing underneath, and to buy houses at flood plains.
She speaks with the utmost pride of transforming a brownfield into a 310-acre swamp, which is now deeply submerged.
"He's doing his job. I shudder to think we would be without us, "she said.
But she also knows that the floods will reopen the debate on Davenport's strategy.
"Will we be able to maintain a majority of agreement to say that's the way to go?" Asked Wine.
Tim Baldwin, co-owner of the Front Street brewery, is in no hurry to build a permanent wall. He saw the dramatic water stream cross the HESCO barrier on Tuesday and he thinks the brewery is a total loss.
Instead of joining calls for a wall, he could commemorate the flood of 2019 with a new beer, perhaps named "Barrier Breach".
This will add to the many ways in which this city is defined by its connection to the river.
On Thursday, at the rooftop bar of the Hotel Current, people tried to spot familiar landmarks in the maelstrom below: A man reported a hot dog stand where the heights of previous floods had been carefully marked. From now on, only its square roof is visible above the swirling waters.
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