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Chlorine bubbles of air tickled your adolescent nose that day under the
pool's blue water, turning to straight-jacket gelatin as a bully held down
your head while the final cubic inches of oxygen evacuated from the lungs'
asphyxiated capillaries -- here comes the flood.
Bile surfaced in my belly on Saturday, just like that day in the
swimming pool, my eyeballs sweating like an incestuous molester's, fresh
from a revolting act: "Exclusions: Flood damage," my wife's and my
insurance policy reads.
Two inches an hour, rising. It's a slow death on Conway's Chicora
Boulevard.
Genesis 6:17: "And, behold, I, even I, do bring a flood of waters upon
the earth, to destroy all flesh, wherein is the breath of life, from under
heaven; and every thing that is in the earth shall die."
THURSDAY: 9 a.m. I'm back safely from my parents' in Laurinburg, N.C.,
two big limbs down, shredded leaves, no power for a few hours. Floyd
destroyed the red-white-and-blue pro-video poker sign at the end of our
street. An omen?
FRIDAY: 1 p.m. Thank God for S.C. Public Radio. I'm stuck in traffic to
the bank with my check, and I'm hearing sickening apologies from "The
Pokeman Administration" -- Boykin Rose, Conway's Morgan Martin with S.C.
Department of Transportation, and Gov. Jim Hodges in Columbia where Hodges
says he is needed in Conway to address flooding.
4 p.m.: Conway Mayor Greg Martin's handshake is cold, wet, clammy.
Councilman Irby Koon inhales a cigarette. A room full of emergency
personnel, state police agents and local cops waited for the update as
Hodges, late, finally arrived from the press conference.
"We're not going to wait on the governor," an impatient Horry County
Emergency Management Director Paul Whitten says, tapping his watch. "The
flood record is 13.4 feet." The Waccamaw River's flood stage is seven
feet.
"All major thoroughfares are compromised by high water," says Horry
County Police Chief Paul Goward.
"I've seen it flood, but not like this," said Rep. Billy Witherspoon
(R-Conway), who lives in a flooded neighborhood.
"The biggest concern is the flooding and the uncertainty we are going
to face in the next few days," Conway Mayor Martin says.
Myrtle Beach Deputy Fire Chief Bill Taaffe said he dispatched nine
Metro-Dade firefighters who came up from Florida to Conway.
"They drove up today thinking they'd help out at the beach," said
Taaffe, who lives in a submerged Conway neighborhood. "We didn't need
them" at Myrtle Beach.
SATURDAY: A Conway Arts Council lady says pick up my framed photo at
the Main Street museum -- it's being evacuated.
SUNDAY: 5:30 a.m. I wake up with a wrinkled brow. River levels were
projected to rise from Saturday's 11.61 feet to 12.9 inches on Sunday, and
14.3 on Monday, 15.7 on Tuesday, 16 feet on Wednesday and 17 feet on
Thursday.
Unspeakable, irretrievable words spouses hurl, and an impatient,
undomesticated, feral, venal restaurant buffet; neighborhood fire ant
revolts and weird new insect species; melting convenience store ice cream.
1:20 p.m. Conway resident Wendell Brown was scooping water with a
plastic cup out of a boat at Savannah Bluff where an aromatic Elvis Septic
Service truck and the Salvation Army's food vehicle were pulling up.
Across from our home off U.S. 701, which had been blocked off for several
days with traffic streaming through our neighborhood, at the new Conway
Fire Station SLED Maj. Jim Christopher hopped off a chopper after a tour
of U.S. 9 in North Myrtle Beach where a four-lane highway has been reduced
to two -- and shrinking.
All cops are friendly. I met the Metro-Dade firemen who were about to
rappel for fun. A National Guardsman was shopping at Wal-Mart where I
picked up one-hour film. Mobile feeding units are in Murrells Inlet and
Little River.
Road closings are at www.dot.state.sc.us/roadconditions/home/html. It
took me 15 minutes to get through the county information number,
843-248-4889. I may get to ride with SLED guys later in their large
chopper across U.S. 701, but I'm afraid to fly.
1:33 p.m. Our poodle, Trixie, snores with both eyes shut tight on the
sun-splayed carpet. The traffic has died down. Local cable news is
informing locals about flood evacuation plans. But it seems safer. It's
the calm before the flood, but I missed church.
Psalm 74:15, "Thou didst cleave the fountain and the flood: thou dried
up mighty rivers."
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