The Great Flood of 1996 at the End of the Trail

Yes, we built the End of the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center in a flood plain. We didn't have a choice... the Oregon Trail ended there, so that's where we had to build the Interpretive Center.

To keep the buildings from being flooded, an artifical hill, or berm, was built to elevate them two feet above the level which the Army Corps of Engineers defined as a Hundred Year Flood. The intent was that even if the worst came to pass, the Interpretive Center would end up as an island amid the flood waters, as pictured here. Unfortunately, in February, 1996, the worst proved to be worse than anyone had foreseen. The picture above shows the flood at roughly the height at which officials monitoring the flood initially believed the water would peak.

However, by that time it was clear that the water was going to rise higher still. The flood was the result of a "Pineapple Express," a warm, wet weather system that escaped the tropics and wandered into the Pacific Northwest. Most winter storms dump snow in the mountains, but this one was so warm that it dropped rain, instead, and began melting the snowpack. Creeks and tributary rivers throughout the Willamette Valley spilled over their banks, and when the Willamette River started to rise, it became apparent that 150 years of draining wetlands, building canals, and straightening out meanders in the river had destroyed much of the Willamette's ability to regulate itself. So much of the river's old flood plain has been built over or turned into farmland that in those areas where the river was able to escape its banks, the flooding was that much worse for all the extra water that should have been able to spread across the valley floor upstream. With the Columbia River in flood stage, as well, all the water coming down the Willamette had nowhere to go except over the banks. In Oregon City, floodwaters were over fifteen feet deep in some areas, and the streets in the north end of town were under four feet of water or more. Pictured at right is Oregon City Mayor Dan Fowler (in the bow with the hat and green jacket) surveying the scene after the rains had ended. The staff of the End of the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center got around in the same way, and Interpretive Center Manager Jayne Sligar even climbed into a half-finished dugout canoe from one of our exhibits to paddle through the interior of the Center. She had to navigate by flashlight while assessing the extent of the damage.

The water wasn't quite two feet deep inside the Interpretive Center when the flood crested. Fortunately, our staff had a days' warning as the water rose to get inside and rescue our exhibits, files, and much of the unique, handcrafted merchandise in the George Abernethy & Company general store. Pictured at left is the Interpretive Center the day after the crest of the flood passed Oregon City. The split-rail fence in the foreground is floating in about five feet of water; at right, past the tree, the water is over twelve feet deep in the Interpretive Center's Heritage Gardens.

The worst part of the flood came when it was over: the entire facility had to be emptied of everything from Nineteenth Century artifacts to the staff's Twentieth Century office equipment, all while every flat surface that had been underwater was coated with a thin layer of mud. The Interpretive Center was fortunate in that dozens of volunteers turned out to do much of the dirty work, including hosing off the floors and decks so people could walk around without fear of slipping on the fine-grained flood mud. Local businesses and university students offered their services, as well, and the Interpretive Center was open for business in only ninety days.

That, however, was not the end of it. Only ten months later, the New Year's Flood of 1997 again closed the Interpretive Center. Fortunately, the water rose only high enough to flood the parking lot and cut off access to the Center; it came nowhere near threatening the buildings themselves. The photograph below shows the Interpretive Center's unofficial mascot, a bronze sculpture of an elk donated by Clackamas Town Center Mall, holding the flood waters at bay. Apparently the Christmas wreath around his neck -- another donation, this time from Teufel Nursery -- had the mojo to do the job, as the water rose no higher than pictured here.

Are we crazy for building in a flood plain? Take a look at some of the historic floods in Oregon City and decide for yourself.