Remembering the 1972 Rapid City flood: 50 years later, memories of deadly, destructive night remain vivid — The South Dakota Standard

2022-06-25 00:34:35 By : Ms. Lemon Liang

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Fifty years ago last week, I was in Rapid City with my parents, who were attending the South Dakota Title Association convention at the old, orange-roofed Howard Johnson Hotel off Interstate 90.

I had just finished my sophomore year at Washington High, and I was 15. We had arrived in Rapid City after returning from a driving vacation to the West Coast where we visited my sister, Nancy, who was living in Berkeley.

On the way back to South Dakota, we stayed overnight in Salt Lake City, and then made it to Rapid City the next day on Wednesday, June 7, 1972. We had been on the road for 19 days. On Thursday, June 8, I drove to the Carlsen Ranch, where my dad grew up, to see my Uncle Hank.

On Friday, June 9, I spent the day with another aunt and uncle, Ralph and Jeri, at their home in Rapid City. They lived about a quarter-mile downstream Rapid Creek from Canyon Lake which was a beautiful lake and park in Rapid City at the foothills of Rapid Creek Road which took you up into the Black Hills.

Their house was west across their street from the nine-hole city golf course, so they had a beautifully manicured park across the street. It was a very nice three-bedroom house with an apartment in the basement. Because there was an apartment in the basement, it sat very high on its poured concrete foundation and the front and back porches were about four feet above the level of the yard and driveway.

This is an important fact.

I had a fun day with Ralph and Jeri. The Carlsen family was going to gather for a family reunion at their house the next day on Saturday, June 10, so I helped them get ready for the reunion. We had lunch and then set up a tent and tables in the backyard, did some shopping at Baken Park, and I ran a couple of other errands for them.

As we wrapped up the day, they said, “Why don’t you stay with us tonight? We are ready for the reunion, and we could have dinner and go to a movie.” I told them my dad had said he wanted to go swimming with me that night after his meetings and before the closing banquet, so I thanked them and told them I would see them tomorrow. I am so glad I did not take them up on their offer to stay the night.

I returned to the Howard Johnson Hotel about the time my dad wrapped up his meeting. We went to the pool, which was half inside and half outside. We swam some laps, talked about the convention, and talked about my trips to the ranch and to see Ralph and Jeri.

As we swam, the clouds above became very ominous. They literally gave off a green glow as it was getting late in the day and the sun behind the clouds was giving it a disturbing glow. It started sprinkling and then moved quickly to raining fairly hard.

I will never forget my dad saying, “I have never seen a sky like that.” Now, my dad was 50, was a pilot, and had grown up on a ranch. He had seen plenty of bad weather, and I thought to myself, “We may be in for a long night.”

 We returned to our hotel room, and my mom had gotten ready while we were swimming, so my dad quickly got ready, and they went off to the banquet. After they left, I called Ralph and Jeri. They said they were fine. They had taken the tent down and pulled some of the tables into the garage. I asked them to keep me posted and I would see them tomorrow. By this time the rain was pouring down very hard.

I watched the weather reports on television, and they said there was intense rain in the Black Hills and to watch out for flooding. It had not occurred to me that there would be flooding problems in the Black Hills because of an overnight rain. I called Ralph and Jeri again, and they confirmed they were OK. I asked them if they wanted to come to the hotel, but they said they would stay. 

The rain fell intensely in the upper Black Hills, and quickly filled Rapid Creek, Boxelder Creek, Spring Creek, and Battle Creek all of which led to either Rapid City or nearby areas. Between late afternoon and midnight, 15 inches of rain fell in about a seven-hour period. As it rained, Rapid City Mayor Don Barnett warned residents of flooding and to either stay home or move to higher ground.

An interesting note: the weather sirens never did go off that night in Rapid City. Some of my aunt and uncle’s neighbors left their homes but no one stopped and urged them to leave.

At about 10:45 p.m., the Canyon Lake Dam, a quarter-mile upstream from their house, gave way, sending a wall of water downstream. The houses to the north and south of my aunt and uncle’s house were swept off of their foundations. Their houses were filled with water.

Some people survived by clinging to their roofs. Others were swept away. As I mentioned earlier, my aunt and uncle’s home sat high on its foundation and was four feet off their driveway. Also, it was on a poured foundation rather than a concrete block foundation. I am not sure the house would have survived on a block foundation.

The water came a couple of inches above their back door. Their basement apartment filled with water and mud. Their garage and their vehicles were swept away. Other vehicles on the street behind them ended up in their backyard. They both stayed at their back door, which was closest to Canyon Lake, holding it closed.

The vehicles in the backyard gave them some protection from the torrent of water, and their high foundation saved them as they held the back door tightly for hours. If the water had gotten another 1 or 2 feet higher, they may not have survived. My aunt and uncle were 60, and they were exhausted.

We heard news reports of the bad flooding. We heard the Canyon Lake Dam had broken. My aunt and uncle’s telephone was not working. We headed out at about 8 a.m. and tried to drive to their house. We could not reach it the normal way going down Jackson Boulevard as those streets were either still flooded or filled with debris from the flood’s destruction.

I suggested we drive to higher ground and try to come to their house from the south. Maybe we could get close enough to walk. We drove up to higher ground and we could see their house, so we drove down an open road to the south until we got to the golf course. Cars and trucks had been driving across the golf course, so we started driving across the rain-drenched golf course.

About halfway across the course, we saw a pickup truck driving toward us and it stopped. A cousin who lived nearby them had gotten to Ralph and Jeri in his pickup, and they stopped when they saw us coming. My aunt and uncle were exhausted and in tears. We started crying tears of joy that they had survived. It was one of the most emotional moments of my life. 

We stayed around the rest of the day and surveyed the damage at their house, helped them arrange a place to stay, and prepared a plan to come back the following week to help them clean up. We left on Sunday, June 11, as my dad needed to go back to his office for a few days. We returned on Thursday, June 15, and stayed for five days. We stayed again at the Howard Johnson’s as we made reservations before we left. My cousin, Ken, came to Rapid City from Fairfax the same day as us.

There were other friends and relatives helping my aunt and uncle as well. Everyone who was working on cleanup and search and rescue had to get immunized at the public health office which we did on our first day. Notwithstanding our immunizations, my dad came down with hepatitis about 45 days later and was hospitalized for a few days. I remember he became very jaundiced. He was very sick. 

My aunt and uncle were able to get their home cleaned up and restored. They continued to live there for another year before they were forced out by the city, so it could expand its nine-hole golf course to an 18-hole golf course. They loved their home and were very sad when the city forced them out. 

While my aunt and uncle were grateful to be alive and survived, 238 people lost their lives that night. There were many poorer people and Native Americans who were disproportionately impacted by the flood in loss of life and property in trailer parks and dwellings built in the most dangerous part of the flood plain.

About 25% of the people who lost their lives were Native American even though they made up only 7% of the population. As is often the case, poorer people live in flood plains throughout the country and are often disproportionately harmed by floods.

The Rapid City flood left an indelible impression on me of the deep sadness of so many people who lost loved ones, of respect for the many who came to Rapid City to help its citizens clean up and start to rebuild, of seeing the South Dakota National Guard work for months helping clean up the city (as depicted above in a photo from the U.S. Geological Survey ), and of the everlasting impact the flood had on the survivors and the witnesses, such as myself. 

Needless to say, I will never forget our memorable 1972 trip to San Francisco and Los Angeles culminating in the tragic flood in Rapid City.

 Chris Carlsen has lived most of his life in South Dakota. He has family roots in West River South Dakota as his father grew up on a ranch which lies between Castle Rock and Haystack Butte north of Newell.  Chris grew up in and continues to make his home in Sioux Falls.

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