Levees that contain rivers in Snohomish County were holding late Thursday night, saving communities from flooding, but it’s not clear yet when the danger will pass.
Water blew a hole in a dike on Ebey Island about 8 p.m. Thursday, leaving residents on the island with just a few hours to collect their valuables before their homes were expected to be inundated with floodwater.
“I don’t know of any other concerns or trouble spots on the levees,” county spokesman Christopher Schwarzen said.
The Snohomish River was expected to continue rising in Snohomish through the night, cresting at more than 33 feet. The previous record was 33.5 feet in 1990.
The system of levees and dikes that control flooding in the Snohomish River valley has been tweaked over the years so that floodwaters are released in a uniform way that limits damage.
The system performed exactly as designed during the flooding of 2006, keeping river crest an inch below the record 1990 level.
Norman Skjelbreia, a flood expert for U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, said the Snohomish levees appeared to be working well again in this flood.
“I’ve been doing this for 30 years, and the fact I’m sitting here without much of a headache shows they are working,” he said Thursday evening.
Still, flooding was widespread. Snohomish County Executive Aaron Reardon declared a state of emergency Wednesday.
The flooding is due to rainfall, not snowmelt, said Chris Burke, a meteorologist with the National Weather Service in Seattle. Between 10 and 20 inches fell in mountain areas, and up to 5 inches fell in the lowlands, he said.
Thousands of people scrambled to build sandbag barriers to save their homes or moved their valuables to higher ground. Rescue crews worked nonstop to snatch people and pets from homes surrounded by water, including about 40 residents at the Three Rivers Trailer Park downstream of Monroe on the Snohomish River.
Meanwhile, others danced amid the chaos, celebrating in downtown Snohomish. Earlier, the revelry turned scary when somebody used a gun to fire multiple rounds into the swollen Snohomish River, according to witnesses.
More than 40 roads, including portions of Highways 9 and 530, remained closed late Thursday.
Stevens Pass reopened Thursday afternoon after a two-day closure because of avalanche danger. It was expected to be jammed with traffic as flood-weary residents fled and commerce resumed.
Both Snoqualmie and White passes were expected to remain closed overnight. Until they reopen, Stevens Pass will be the only viable route to Eastern Washington.
“Our crews have been working very hard and we’re optimistic that we can possibly get I-90 open at some point on Friday,” said state Transportation Secretary Paula Hammond, referring to a stretch from North Bend to Ellensburg. “We’ll have a better idea Friday morning.”
A stretch of I-5 in southwest Washington also is expected to remain closed at least into Friday morning.
“We are still waiting for the floodwater to recede so we can start pumping floodwaters out,” said Aurora Jones, a Department of Transportation spokeswoman.
A dike along the Stillaguamish broke Thursday afternoon, sending the river gushing across farmland. Another dike along the Pilchuck River also was breached by floodwaters and dozens of people east of town were forced to leave their homes.
In Stanwood, people were surrounded by 4 to 5 feet of water and asked for help leaving their homes, North County Fire/EMS Battalion Chief Christian Davis said. Rescues happened on Marine Drive and Thomle Road just south of the city.
The Stillaguamish River at Arlington crested at 10 a.m. Thursday at 20.8 feet — a bit shy of the previous high-water record. A breach in a dike there flooded farmland and shut down businesses and closed the Highway 530 ramps to I-5 at Island Crossing. Restaurants, a motel, gas stations and espresso stands were all swamped.
The worst of the flooding appeared to be over in Gold Bar and Sultan.
Gold Bar officials were up most of the night monitoring the Skykomish and two tributaries, the Wallace River and May Creek, said Gold Bar Mayor Crystal Hill.
People living near May Creek saw the tributary flood in places locals hadn’t seen in recent memory, she said. At least one family living outside town near U.S. 2 had to be rescued from their home just before midnight, as water came up to their door and invaded their home. Everyone in the family, which included children and a senior, was unhurt.
In Sultan, water crept up Main Street and stopped between Third and Fourth streets before it appeared to begin receding.
Throughout the county, landowners mourned devastation to their properties.
Rising floodwaters circled Brad and Charis Yates’ home northeast of Snohomish on Sexton Road. “This year it just keeps coming,” Brad Yates said.
As of Thursday night, the couple and their two dogs were trapped inside, watching water from the Pilchuck River creep toward their front door. They’ve lived here since 1995 and they’ve never seen floodwaters this close to the house. Normally, they’re able to get in and out of the house.
“We’ve got about 18 inches before it gets to the house,” Brad Yates said. “We’re just hanging out and waiting.”
Yates took the day off work as an auto mechanic and has been monitoring flood predictions online since 4 a.m. The rising waters killed a chicken and rooster and the family’s other 15 chickens are huddled up in their perches.
“We can’t get out to them,” he said. “There’s 4 feet of water up the side of the chicken coop.”
Patrick Chonzena woke at 2 a.m. Thursday to check on the water approaching his 108-year-old farmhouse east of Snohomish. He knew floodwater was coming.
By 4 a.m., it filled the field near their home. By 6 a.m., the water was coming up so fast he and his wife were hurriedly packing to evacuate their home at the end of 86th Street SE east of the Pilchuck River.
“It was a lake,” said Karen Chonzena.
By the afternoon, their home and a lot of others in and around Snohomish were surrounded by floodwaters bubbling up from rivers and over levees.
The floodwater boiled over roads, buried farmland and left people gawking and talking at the river’s edge downtown. The Snohomish River ripped by, high, fast and dangerous.
People flocked to First Street as darkness fell over downtown. Every parking space was full, dozens walked the promenade along the river, taking pictures, taking it all in.
The water covered Kla Ha Ya Park and everything else below to the river. Just above the park, someone had put up a hand-lettered sign: “No diving.”
Terry and Craig Saunderson of Snohomish strolled downtown and watched the river drag entire trees past at speeds normally reserved for cars.
“I can’t believe it’s going to get any higher,” she said.
Restaurants and bars were doing brisk business. Todo Mexico, a restaurant and bar overlooking the river, had water climbing its foundation. The bottom two floors are empty, said bartender and manager Ruben Muniz. Inside every table was full.
“You see a lot of people are down here — more than usual,” he said.
The river was higher and faster than many people remember.
In the Chonzenas’ neighborhood, several dozen homes were cut off as water from the Pilchuck filled a floodplain on the east edge of town. Brown water chugged through the neighborhood, dislodging tires, bags of garbage and propane tanks and setting them down in fields.
The Chonzenas had to work Thursday. When they returned home in the evening, they wondered what state their home would be in. Around 7 p.m., they stood at the end of the bridge at Sixth Street, the only access to their neighborhood, and contemplated the Pilchuck roiling over the roadway.
After watching their neighbors slosh through the water successfully, they drove past the road closed sign, through half a mile of water rushing over the road to their house. There, they found a river coursing through their yard but, amazingly, their old farmhouse was just high enough they had no water inside. Neighbors dressed in duck hunting gear were loading themselves into a steel boat. Further down one street, the water was more than 4 feet deep. People were stranded.
At the southeast end of Snohomish on Lincoln Street, farmer Allen Stocker cared for his cattle and wondered just how he was going to get through this. More than 60 acres of his land were under water. His cattle, all 51 head, crowded on a small chunk of dry land near the barn.
Once the water drops, he knows he’ll spend days — maybe months — clearing fields of debris, unplugging culverts and fixing fences. Family and friends converged on Stocker’s farm and tried to help move some of the equipment out of the way of coming waters.
After the sun dropped, they blew off some steam outside the barn, drinking cans of Coors around a burn barrel, country music blaring from a pickup truck. The river lapped at farm equipment not far away.
“We’ll make it — just like every other time,” Stocker said, smoking a cigarette and eyeing his gentle cattle. “I spend every buck on the farm. No vacations, no luxuries.”
Herald reporters Eric Stevick, Gale Fiege, Katya Yefimova, Kristi O’Harran, Julie Muhlstein and Sharon Salyer contributed to this story.
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