GRAND FORKS, N.D. (AP) — Senior Airman LeeLynn Nearing gazed at the icy brown floodwaters as the Coast Guard boat cruised past silent buildings in the watery ghost town that has become Grand Forks.
“I’m looking for a new world,” sighed Nearing, who has taken refuge with a friend at the Air Force base 15 miles west of Grand Forks.
A block from her abandoned apartment building were three blocks of downtown gutted by a fire, the charred skeletons rising above streets flooded by up to 5 feet of frigid, sewage-fouled water from the Red River.
The fire, which began Saturday afternoon, raged for hours until it was put out Sunday by crews in helicopters hoisting 2,000-gallon buckets of water and fire trucks mounted on flatbed trucks.
“There’s not a heck of a lot salvageable,” Deputy Fire Chief Peter O’Neill said.
Fire trucks were initially unable to get through the deep water filling the streets. The cause of the fire was unknown.
Among the buildings that burned were the 1st National Bank building, an office building, an apartment building and the newsroom and offices of the Grand Forks Herald.
“It makes me feel like I want to cry,” said Jenelle Stadstad, manager of the newspaper’s library. “I feel helpless.” The file cabinets that held much of the town’s history in brittle clippings and yellowed photos were lost, an archive that took decades to collect.
The newspaper nonetheless managed to publish a special edition Sunday on the presses of the Saint Paul (Minn.) Pioneer Press.
Overnight, firefighters put out separate smaller fires in two houses. No one was injured.
While Nearing collected what belongings she could, clothing, financial records and the wedding ring of her late sister among them, authorities braced for more water. Today’s expected crest of 54 feet is 26 above flood stage.
By this morning, 90 percent of the 10 ½ -square-mile city was under an evacuation order, and most of the 50,000 residents had fled. Among those leaving were the 11,000 students at the University of North Dakota, which canceled classes for the rest of the semester and graduation.
The city has no water for taps, toilets or hydrants. Power was cut off to areas within about a half-mile of the river, and there have been problems with gas and telephone service.
Mayor Pat Owens, who ordered a 24-hour curfew in the most seriously flooded areas, said her own house was among the many that were flooded.
It may not be totaled,” she said. “But now I’m in the same bucket with the rest of you. If we come through this and we can say we have lost no citizens, no people, we can say we won the battle.”
The river swept over sandbag and clay dikes on Saturday, advancing street by street, block by block in Grand Forks and East Grand Forks, Minn.
In its path, the final 60 patients at the city’s hospital were moved to other facilities and the Emergency Operations Center and police department moved to higher ground Sunday. In its wake, teddy bears floated in the murky water and stores with “Open” signs still posted were filled half-way to the ceiling.
Outside the police station in East Grand Forks, personal watercraft tied to poles bob up and down. Traffic lights still blink off and on, giving boats — not cars — a signal to yield.
The high water has been a nightmare for the Dakotas and Minnesota for weeks. A record amount of snow first melted, then froze and then melted again, swamping dozens of towns and forcing thousands of people to flee.
It could be weeks before residents can return home.
“We’re tough here … but it became too much,” said Martin Walker, who abandoned his apartment Sunday afternoon. “I don’t think anyone was prepared for this.”
The Coast Guard used boats to cruise the silent streets, looking for residents like Alpha Mattson, the 69-year-old neighbor of Nearing who had to be rescued from her third-floor apartment.
“I didn’t think it was going to be like this,” she said as her dog, Gizzmo, cowered behind her.
On an apartment building fire escape, 77-year-old Clarence Eide held blankets, quilts, and pillows in his arms. The retired Army soldier was supposed to have left Friday; he had been eating doughnuts and drinking orange soda for the past two days.
“I didn’t hear nothing about it,” he said of the evacuation orders. “I didn’t know we was supposed to have left.”