Raging Mill River triggers chicken-rescue operation on Meadow Street in Florence
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NORTHAMPTON - The river ran through it. Two small farms set in a compound on Meadow Street in Florence were ravaged by the rushing Mill River Sunday. Though the inhabitants took steps to batten down the hatches from early Friday onward, they managed to save their 200 chickens with only minutes to spare.
"We're so close to the river, that, even with the warning coming ahead of time we were panicking Friday," said Nooni Hammarlund, who, along with her partner, Adrienne Walker, own the recently named Freedom Farm on what used to be the old Ross Farm, part of the city's historic register.
There are three residences on the property. The two women live in the main house closest to Meadow Street with 3-year-old twins Levi and Zuki, who ran around Saturday going, "Mom, what's happening?"
With their egg-laying operation the main thrust of the business, getting the chickens to higher ground was of paramount concern. Walker - with help from Lauren Caprio, 25, who, with partner Danielle Smith, runs Bear Root Herb Farm on the rear end of the property, closest to the river - built an emergency 14- by 30-foot enclosure in the loft of their 170-year-old barn. They began rescuing chickens at 10 a.m. Sunday, after they had loaded their three donkeys into a wagon for safe delivery to another farm in Southampton. The river had not yet begun seeping over the banks so they thought they had some time.
"Then the river jumped the banks," said Walker. By 11 a.m. the water rushing through the three-acre property was ankle deep and rising.
"I was never scared, but I was scared for the chickens," said Walker. "At one point, when it looked like we might not get them up there in time, my heart was starting to break."
Caprio was literally tossing the chickens one by one up to Walker as water rushed into the barn. "Within minutes it was on us; it happened so fast," said Caprio. At 11:30 the last chicken was safely deposited in the loft, three feet of water blasted through the farm and Caprio and Walker hightailed it out of there with seconds to spare.
"I threw the dog in the car and hunkered down until I was persuaded to come back," said Walker. "We would have been emergency evacuated if we hadn't left."
Caprio had cats and one was panicky. "But there was no time to think," she said, as she grabbed the cat made a dash for safety.
Not 24 hours earlier, danger seemed worlds away. "I was getting ready to can vegetables on a rainy day," said Caprio.
The main house was spared flooding by a mere half inch. The entire eight-foot cellar was flooded right up to the kitchen floor and the water outside was exactly level to the slate porch.
But the rear residence where Caprio and Smith and four housemates live bore the brunt of Miss Irene, with the living room, kitchen and some bedrooms under 2½ feet of water.
The high-water mark was vividly apparent Monday and the house took on the look of one that had been burned, with industrial dehumidifiers trying vainly to dry the damaged walls and all the vinyl had been stripped off the concrete floor and was drying in sheets in the dirt outside the barn.
Caprio and Smith and two housemates from the rear residence have moved temporarily into the main house, while two others found lodging in a local hotel.
So how do you bounce back from a mess like this?
"Stay busy - that really helps," said Walker. "We like challenges," added Caprio.
The women looked on the bright side all during cleanup. "I really wanted to move that fence, so that's already started," said Walker with a laugh.
"I always meant to catch up on my mopping," added Caprio.
Walking down by the violently churning river Monday, Walker pointed to the spot where their little pebble beach was under 16 feet of water. "Ninety-nine percent of the time it's the best place on earth," she said.
Walker's honey bees just made it. "You can't save bees, they have to fend for themselves," she said. The platform the hives rest on was high enough by mere inches to avoid submergence.
Though one resident's car was totaled by the force of mud and water, Michael Smith, 22, who lives in the rear house on the property, was working very hard to save his, a red 2006 Alantra. The water had only reached as high as the trunk, so there was no electrical damage. He had stripped the car of seats and flooring and was drying each item carefully with a power vacuum.
"I want my car to survive very badly," he said. He needs it for a trip back to school next week at the University of New Mexico.
"I'll not allow it to die," said Smith who grew up in the Virgin Islands. "I've seen about 11 hurricanes. I figured it was nothing. I tried to wait it out. But when it got ankle deep in my bedroom and kept creeping up and couches started floating and moving, I got kinda scared."
Smith bolted out of there in a friend's four-wheel drive, leaving his car behind.
A company came out Monday with a Dumpster to help the families sort out the unsalvageable from what could be saved. "My bed's already in the Dumpster," said Smith with a chuckle.
None of the women have any thoughts about pulling up stakes. "Even though it floods sometimes we're not giving it up," said Hammarlund. "We're just the latest people to steward the place. We intend to restore it to a working farm."
Upon returning home Sunday night other residents talked about walking through neighborhoods untouched by the river. "Everything was fine till you got to our house," said Caitlyn Caulfield. "We waded up to the front porch. Luckily we didn't wade through the driveway."
As the river receded it left a driveway in large jagged chunks and dangerously deep holes.
But the visual that stands out most for Caulfield? "Two hundred swallows catching the fish swimming in the road," she said.
