Story of the Malott Flood of 1938

By Mabel M. Gavin

On April 19, 1938, the greater part of Malott was swept away by floodwaters, which rushed down Loup Loup Creek after the dirt dam at Wagner's millpond, 12 miles up the canyon, had given way. Many Malott residents expected the dam might collapse because of a heavy run-off. Torrents of melted snow were piling up behind the dam. Bur the people felt they would have plenty of time to get out of their houses as it took irrigation water 4 hours to travel the 12 mile course. Also, it was generally believed the excess water would spread out near the lower end of the watercourse and perhaps only dampen a few basements.

The dam dissolved about 9 a.m. Archie Ostenberg had been stationed at the dam and was to be the Paul Revere to notify Malott if a break should occur. Driving down the crooked Pleasant Valley road, he raced with the speeding waters, fearing he would not reach town in time. His car siren screamed as he passed the Boston and Okanogan orchards, and workers fled to their cars and followed him with horn a-blast to aid in giving house-to-house warnings.

Just 35 minutes after the dam broke, a wall of water roared out of the canyon above the J.O. Burdette home. Those who saw it knew they would be fortunate to escape with their lives. Mrs. Myrtle Curtiss, busy getting her baby chicks into the woodshed and her perishables from the basement, looked up to see the great moving mass of water just s few feet away. She rushed out the back door in time to see her neighbor's house carried away. "Run!" voices, cried. Two men helped her into a truck just as her home moved from its foundation and were swept towards the Okanogan River.

Mrs. George Phillips, sr., and her clerk, Francis Hooper, were trapped in the Phillips Mercantile building. They opened the back door to run to a car, but a mass of water poured into the store. Mrs. Phillips climbed onto a counter and Hooper clung to a shelf. The building creaked and swayed, and seemed almost ready to move with the torrent when the water began losing some of its force. Later, it was agreed that all that saved the building and perhaps Mrs. Phillips and Hooper, was the amount of water flowing through the back door which poured through the store and out the front door.

After about two hours, the water level began going down. Mallot appeared to be in ruins. Its stunned residents, many of whom had fled to higher ground, returned to survey the wreckage.

Along Burdette Street the Winfield Wright home and the Raymond Griffiths residence had vanished completely. Where Tom and Magie Griffin had smilingly welcomed their grocery and meat customers just a few hours before, nothing remained. Where their combination home and store had stood, there was only a barren spot on the banks of the wild and swirling waters of the creek.

Mr. and Mrs. S.E. Denton and their six children were homeless. Their only possessions were clothes they had on their backs when the flood struck.

Nothing could be seen of the Willard Betcher, the Christ Stolz, or the Martha Gavin cottages. The attractive rock house that had been built on the banks of the creek a few years previously by Mr. and Mrs. A.E. Douglas had crumbled against the force of the debris laden waters. Mr. and Mrs. Howard Craig were living there at the time of the disaster.

The green painted house belonging to George Phillips that stood along the highway somewhere near the later site of the Charles Rains home also had been swept into the Okanogan River. However, it had tarried in the water for some time. It rode upstream as far as the Boyd Hildebrand home, floated under the Malott Bridge and continued on to its doom.

The Ada Vandiver home had been transported to the highway, where the flood deposited one room on one side of the road and one on the other side. The house was swept clean of its contents, and was literally battered to pieces.

One of the freak incidents of the flood concerned the home of Jessie Dresser and Myrtle Curtiss. It was left standing near the post office. One side was caved in and windows were broken. A cedar chest belonging to Mr. and Mrs. Glenn Curtiss, and containing their wedding gifts, had been dumped like trash into the flood-swollen channel. So had chests and trunks containing their linens. Yet the piano in the house had ridden along so smoothly that articles placed on it were still there, as though nothing had happened.

Mr. and Mrs. Walter Ricketts found their kitchen had been wrenched from the rest of their house, and was deposited near the brink of the river. But it had been carried so smoothly that the cook stove where it always had been and a kettle of vegetables on the stove were still there.

The Smith and Griffin garage and service station looked as though some monster had twisted and wrenched it, then angrily knocked in the front of the building. The Mackie pool hall had sailed down the street past the Phillips store. Riding on the crest of the flood, it rammed into the post office building, taking off the top corner before it traveled on toward the river where it disappeared.

The post office, where my husband Harry and I lived, also lost its porch, ripped away by two 61-foot trees. The trees also wrenched away a gasoline pump and tore out a section of the wall. A smaller tree ended up in our living room in front of the piano.

The flood carried garages, hen houses, woodsheds and outbuildings away. Wells and pumping facilities were demolished. Fences were torn down. Basements had become pools of mud and water. Thousands of dollars worth of damage had been done.

The day after the flood was a dismal one, for many families realized they had lost everything. For some, there was not a single ray of hope. All they had in the world was thankfulness that no members of their families had been lost. But help was not long in coming. By noon the day of the flood, Washington waterpower crews and American Legion members from Okanogan had an emergency kitchen operating in the Malott Improvement club building. Then the Red Cross moved in, with offers of assistance to help rebuild some of the homes. This was the salvation of several families.

Malott families began picking up the shattered remnants of their homes and business places, and patching them together. Friends helped clean out mud-clogged homes. Other friends washed damaged bedding and clothing. Laundries from as far south as Wenatchee aided in the cleaning process.

Sympathy came from everywhere. One morning a number of Indians came into the back bedroom of my home where I was busy shoveling out mud. Silently, each extended a hand. When their bronzed fingers clasped mine, I felt a deep sympathy far greater than spoken words or proffered gifts could convey. The last in the line of Indians was a granddaughter of Susanne Lakekin. She said, "We watched the flood come. We saw it take many houses into the river. All the time Grandma sat and prayed for Mrs. Gavin."

I also well remember a woman from Omak who took off her overshoes and gave them to me to use while cleaning out the mud.

Quilts and clothing and canned foods were sent to the hall for distribution from all communities. The little town of Conconully gave an entertainment to raise funds for flood stricken families. The money was used to buy staple groceries at wholesale prices. These were equitably distributed among those who had lost their supplies.

Individuals with tractors and trucks began the work of cleaning the immense piles of trees and rubbish from the streets and lots. Highway crews began rebuilding the bridge across the Loop Loop Creek and scraping sand from the roads.

Adding to the disaster was a southwest wind that went on a rampage for a few days after the flood. It tore at the sand-covered streets and at the flats beyond the creek. It lifted sheets of dust and poured them into houses that had been ripped open. With mud below and dust above, cleaning many of the houses became almost impossible. It was not just one day of wind but days of it. In fact, the wind continued driving angrily against the town during most of the summer.

But presently, in some cases with Red Cross help, new houses were beginning to rise. Before many weeks, their coats of white paint glistened in the sun. Most of the families decided to remain in Malott. Only the Dressers, the Crist Stolz', and the Betcher families decided to build their new homes elsewhere.

One of the main reasons no lives were lost was that, as I have indicated, most people were expecting the dam to go out. It was an earthen dam with a concrete spillway on the south side. So much water had gone over the spillway that the structure was undermined and began to collapse. This left only the earthen dam, and water already was lapping across its top.

When word of the flood came, many residents were prepared to evacuate immediately. They watched the swirling waters from nearby hillsides. Probably the flood directly affected less than half the houses in Malott, but it tore through the business district with a vengeance. A total of 26 homes and commercial buildings were swept away or substantially damaged.