THE FLOODS OF 55'

                                        STORM FOLLOW-UP

                                        THE FLOODS OF 55'

                                               by Dick Alley

        My recent post on Hurricane Season 2020, drew a few comments on Facebook, including one from Larry Ritter, who told of boating down Center Street in the big storm of 1955.

Army Days - Godchild, Susie Hodio at her christening.

My 48 Chevy in 1955 made many "Monmouth Runs" to and from the base. Mary Anne took it over when I was transferred to White Sands Proving Grounds.

         In 1955, I was still a kid. I was just shy of turning 20, a PFC in the United States Army, attending the radar Repair School at Fort Monmouth, NJ. It was about as good an assignment as could be had in the military at the time. That particular school was 8 months in duration which put me on a weekend pass back home almost every weekend. I had my fairly dependable 48 Chevy to make the trips. There was even time during the week between classes to keep it running. I recall doing a valve job on one occasion and replacing generator brushes on another. Cars were simple and fun to repair in those days. Making it even better was the option to attend night classes at the school, which allowed us to begin our weekends on Friday morning right after class.

        I left the base  on Friday that weekend and made the uneventful drive home, totally unaware that a storm of major proportions was following me up the coast.  My girlfriend who I ended up spending the  next "65-years-and-counting-with", and I had a date for the movies.

        By the time I picked her up for our date, the rain was coming down in buckets. We were barely 2 miles from her house when the Chevy sputtered then stalled and wouldn't start.  I had the hood open, getting soaked while she cranked the engine when I heard a voice next to me. "Here, let me try this", said the voice. This kindly gentleman was standing there with a can of ether in his hand. He sprayed it into the carburetor. Mary Anne pushed the starter and the engine roared to life. " I don't know where you kids think you're going on a night like this, but get on home".

        This wonderful man identified himself as Dr. (can't remember the name but he had an office next to Christ & Holy Trinity Church). Three years later, we went to him for out blood tests before getting married. We thanked him and followed his advice. I dropped Mary Anne off and headed home.

         Next morning, the news told of major flooding everywhere. The Post Road was closed in Norwalk where the Bridge went out. Bridges on the Merritt Parkway were washed out at several spots all the way to the New York line.

          Locally, every river and stream rushed over its banks. Many roads were impassable. 

         Sammy Friedson ran one of Westport's busiest Main Street Grocery stores (Economy Food Store) and was an officer in the National Guard. He was in charge of the emergency shelter at Greens Farms Elementary School. 

           

    All of a sudden, my biggest problem became getting back to Fort Monmouth. First reports appeared to rule out every route into New York. 

        I recalled once being advised a way to avoid being ruled as AWOL was to report into the nearest available military unit. I went to Greens Farms School. Sam looked at me like I was nuts when I told him I was reporting for  duty and told me to get lost.

        Finally, I decided to start early on Sunday morning and make my way via back roads to NYC across the George Washington Bridge and into New Jersey which had been spared any major storm damage. I remember the normal 3 hour drive taking 12 hours and a whole lot of detours. I was about four or five hours late and reported in to my company Executive Officer, Lt. Slutsky (funny how one name pops back into your head after after 65 years and the name of the good Doctor didn't). As the base h

ad not felt the brunt of the storm, he at first didn't believe me about why I was late. I finally convinced him to check the radio reports and he let me off with a reprimand, telling me to "plan better" in the future.

    Recovery from the floods of 55 took a long time. In Norwalk, a Bailey Bridge,  constructed by Army engineers supported traffic for months. Many homes and buildings along rivers and streams needed major repairs. The floods of 55 were possibly the worst since I lived in Westport. It also showed how only a few miles can spell the difference between a drizzle and a disaster.

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