Johnstown High School - Spectator Yearbook (Johnstown, PA)

Page 8 text:

TOGETHER It seemed like just a heavy thunderstorm to me that night. But in the morning when I looked out my window and saw all the neighbors gathered in the street. I knew it was much more. Wondering what had hap- pened, I got dressed and went outside. When some neighbors told me of the flood, a friend and I started walking toward Morrelville. At first I hadn’t fully realized the impact of the flood. But soon the destruction and dev- astation became all too apparent. Cars were overturned and crushed. Telephone poles were toppled, the wires now just a tangled mess. The roads had large chunks chewed out of them. Water was still flowing in many places, providing a stark reminder of the fallacy of our nickname flood free city”. I thought about how the city had looked be- fore the flood and the possibility of its look- ing like that again. I knew it would take a long while to rebuild. But I also knew that we would—just like we had, twice before. —David Elliott The National Guard used their rescue training to help trapped citizens. People stare in disbelief at the destruction caused by the overpowering flood waters. m0 %r Moxham’s Ohio Street was among the many roads that couldn’t take all the pressure and force of the flood waters. 4

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In the wake of the flood, to make matters worse, Johns- town, among many other steel cities, was made fright- fully aware of the damage that foreign imports were causing to U.S. Steel Industry. Because we, the students at J.H.S., knew that the flood was already bogging our city with problems, we decided to fight the import problem. To do this, Mr. McCloud's English classes and the Yearbook Staff wrote letters to President Carter expressing their concern over the foreign steel situation. Students asked for help because of the flood and also the news that Bethlehem Steel announced cutbacks. A flood T-shirt that read on the back Dear Jimmy, Help!” Johnstown , was sent to the Chief Executive. 3

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The flood waters proved to be too much for this home on Messenger Street. A National Guard truck plows through the muddy waters downtown in an attempt to rescue victims. was rudelyawakenedfrommysleep a frantic pounding on the door. I looked at my alarm clock, 6:00 A.M. I couldn’t imagine who would be knocking on our door at that time of the morning, so I just turned over, choosing to ignore it. But the knocking per- sisted, and I finally got up to answer the door. My brother and his wife rushed into the house. His first words were, Johns- town’s flooded!” I couldn’t believe it. By this time my mother and my other brother were up, and they heard the shocking news. We quickly got dressed and jumped into my brother’s Jeep. He drove through Moxham, where we saw the water, mud and debris. Even though it was only 6:30 in the morning, the streets and sidewalks were crowded with people, out to see the rushing flood water and the damage. We drove as far as we could near Ohio Street, which resembled a raging river. I sat staring, not able to be- lieve what I saw; huge slabs of cement were uprooted from the road. Later that afternoon, after the water had receded slightly, we waded through knee- deep mud to Central Avenue. Cars in the U.S. Steel parking lot were sitting helter-skelter in the mud. We made our way to the bridge by Cochran. The water level in the river was so high that it was a miracle that Cochran was not flooded. We traveled on, across the bridge by Valley Pike and into Hornerstown. I was hot, tired and muddy as I turned back toward home. And I was thankful that I still had a home to return to. —Traci Muenzer