Reader Patrick Thornburg sent us this email:

Saturday, June 14, my hometown may have died. You may have read of or watched the record flooding of Cedar Rapids, Des Moines or Iowa City. Many other towns have been affected with little attention, even in Iowa.

The town of Oakville, Iowa, population 430, may be no more. The levee that protected it from flooding from the Iowa and Mississippi rivers was breached, sending flood waters racing into the small town located in southeastern Iowa. The Wikipedia article has nothing on its history. It is a town that the vast majority in Iowa have never heard of. But it is where I grew up. 

Oakville was incorporated in 1902, but founded earlier. Some said the original name was Echoville since train whistles echoed from the surrounding bluffs. A bank robbery in its early days was the most excitement it had. It had flooded many times but the levees were built in the late 1930’s to keep the waters out. Major floods in the 1960’s and 1993 threatened the town but the levees held. 

Oakville’s sandy valley site on the southern bank where the Iowa River turned north to enter the Mississippi River was never a safe location from the waters. The Mississippi was only 3 miles away. Towns located along the rail lines in order to survive. A town called Palo Alto was located a quarter mile south but died when the rail lines bypassed it. Its last vestige was an abandoned gas station.

My parents moved to a small farm in Oakville in 1956 with six children and five more would come. The house was in town and the connected farmland outside. In the manner of many small towns, we were always known as the new family and would still be called that today. 

There were two adults with their own room and 11 children who shared three bedrooms. I never had my own room until I moved out. Everyone shared one small bathroom that Dad built, replacing the outhouse when they moved in.

An earth covered limestone root cellar was used to store canned foods and root vegetables. It was also used for protection during thunderstorms and tornado warnings. I remember falling asleep on the wood shelves, the musty odors in the air.

The older siblings began delivering the local evening and Sunday morning paper and we all continued it for 20 years. We would split the town into sections so each had a part. I started at age 7 with 11 papers and continued until it ended at age 16 with nearly 100 papers. We rode bikes but didn’t throw the paper, we placed it between the screen and front doors or a box on a fence. We were in scouting, 4-H and Little League. We worked for farmers, baling hay and walking beans, both in the hot, humid Iowa summers.

Dad, a WWII veteran, worked on the railroad for over 40 years and drove 20 miles to his job, retiring in 1984. Mom stayed at home to take care of us. She knitted and sewed and made many of the things we needed as well as toys and crafts We grew a large garden for ourselves as well as strawberries, sweet corn and muskmelons to sell along side the road. We raised cattle and hogs. In the fall, we would butcher our own meat.

Dad built a shop to hold his tools for woodworking. He wanted us to paint it and we painted a 13-star flag on it in 1976. After retiring, he made a business making crafts and furniture. He and some friends would also cut down trees and saw the logs into lumber. Those friends would take coffee breaks in the house and Dad wanted coffee that came close to standing on its own as new additions soon found out.

The nearest doctor was 12 miles away, the nearest hospital, 20. The nearest movie theater or bowling alley was over 20 miles away. The nearest public pool was 14 miles away. Mom “went to town” in Burlington 20 miles away or Wapello 12 miles away about twice a month for groceries and other items. Mail was picked up from a post office box.

We could get four television channels, first in black and white, then later on a Zenith console television. The remote was one of us kids, Dad would tell us what channel to turn it to. One channel used to show old movies on Sunday morning, then the Cubs game. Dad would watch these with his eyes closed but you couldn’t change the channel. Captain Earnie was the afternoon children’s show, followed by reruns until the network news at 5:30.

We had the newspapers, books and magazines to keep us entertained. A small diamond next to the house was used to play whiffle ball. The bases had been scratched out of the dirt and grass didn’t grow on them for several years. If you caught the ball in the air off the house or out of the trees, the batter was out. I was probably bored but friends, chores, games, reading and imagination helped the time go by.

Each summer, Oakville had a homecoming. It was a small town celebration with a parade in the morning, games for the kids, a fish fry at noon then BBQ pork for dinner. Volunteer firefighters from other towns were invited to participate in water fights. A barrel was placed on a wire between two poles and each squad would try to push the barrel to the opponents side. It was a fun, cool way to spend the late afternoon.

Oakville’s school consolidated with a larger town and kept an elementary until it closed in 1974. The town had a rail line, general store, restaurant, bar and two gas stations. All closed years ago. The grain elevator had a gas pump you could use with a charge card and a convenience store was opened without gas but these were never the same. The elevator was the largest employer, second was probably the bank. There hadn’t been many businesses in town for quite some time.

Main street was named after a local doctor “Cappy” Russell and so was a river access. My parents house was on the corner of Russell St. and highway 99. Highway 99 is part of the “Great River Road” and used to be a state highway but was changed to a county road. RAGBRAI brought bicyclists through town a few times but Oakville was never a main stop.

Highway 99 had a sharp turn in town that sometimes brought some excitement. In 1967, my sister, brother and I saw a semi go around the corner too fast and tip over. We ran inside and Mom thought we were jumping from the beds to the floor causing the shaking. Once or twice a year, vehicles would miss the curve and a few ended up in our garden.

I moved out of town in the early 1980’s and left the state. I would return to Oakville to see the folks for holidays. Each year brought changes to the people, some moving and others dying. 

Some of the siblings stayed and then left. Finally one sister remained in a house across the street from our parents. Mom died nearly two years ago and Dad last November. They rest in a cemetery on top of the bluff not far from town, but well above the flood levels.

The flooding began upstream and people started to plan. Sandbagging started to shore up the levee. Highway 99 was blocked where it went through the levee and the bagging began in earnest. The workers’ efforts came to an end when the river went nearly three feet higher than it had in 1993.

One thing a levee break can do is protect other towns. Wapello’s river level dropped nearly a foot after the breach instead of rising another foot. After the initial surge from the rupture, Oakville has between 4 and 10 feet of water in it. The river is predicted to stay above the ‘93 level for more than a week. Since the levee broke in the upper part, the lower levee has been holding the water like a lake. Farms, fields and livestock have been lost as well as the town.

Who knows who will return to restart the town. Houses under water for weeks will not be habitable. If the grain elevator closes, there will be nothing left for any workers. This scene will be repeated for Iowa and Illinois towns like Rochester, Cedar Bluff, Palo and Keithsburg. Some people will probably return but these places will never be the same. Our memories of our hometowns will have to be enough.