The 25th anniversary of the April Fools Day flood

By Paul Mills

It’s like a belt across the waist of Franklin County, and 25 years ago at this time, the buckle burst after being fed more than it could hold.

It was just after 6 a.m. Wednesday morning, April 1, 1987. Thirty-one-year-old David Currier was heading south across the bridge in his 1972 Subaru hatchback. His car was shaking but Currier didn’t think to attribute the trembling to a problem with the bridge. After all, despite widespread flooding, the river was still flowing under the bridge. He instead figured his car must have a flat tire. So as soon as he made it across the final span he pulled over and stopped. He turned his head around and immediately realized the bumpy ride has nothing to do with the condition of his car. What happened next is recalled by Currier in a recent interview with this columnist:

“The north side of the bridge had already started to separate and go down. It made quite a water wave. Then the middle section dropped just after the first section on the north side.

“The first piece just sit there, just floated like it was floating on top of the water. Then it went out like that and the north side rolled. You could see the arches roll over into the water. The other one [the middle section] swung out and headed south and just floated out, you couldn’t see the arches, or anything. Just gone. It was all in a matter of three or four minutes.”

Currier remained on the scene warning the many approaching motorists of the bridge’s collapse.

It was perhaps fitting that Currier would in effect administer the last rites to the historic structure, since the bridge was once unofficially named for his cousin, Currier Holman, a legislator who promoted building the bridge back in 1930.

Loss of the Fairbanks Bridge – one replaced nearly 18 months later at a cost of some $3 million – was one of the more memorable casualties of one of the worst floods in central Maine history just 25 years ago at this time.

Currier’s near rendezvous with death also played out in dozens of other episodes throughout central Maine in this time. Just eight miles to the south, two members of the Farmington Falls Fire Department were soon clinging to life. They were Junior Turner and Nelson Collins. The same Sandy River current that sank the Fairbanks Bridge also split in half the motorboat Turner and Collins were using to help rescue a marooned homeowner. As Turner recalled for this columnist a few days ago:

“Though the river was smooth, it’s unbelievable how rugged the current was. We were no match for it. The current blew our firemen’s boots right off. We were in freezing water for nearly an hour. If we hadn’t taken enough rope we would have gone down the river.”

It took two skidders operated by three of their fire department colleagues, Dennis Butterfield, Steve Webber and Ross Clair, to reach them. They were rescued just before onset of some of the more serious symptoms of hypothermia.

It was at Farmington Falls that the ‘87 flood had many other serious ramifications. The entire village was isolated, a home was demolished in an explosion caused by the rupture of a propane gas line. Others were virtually ruined from other flood related mishaps.

Midway between Farmington Falls and Fairbanks is the Farmington intervale, home to several businesses and a half dozen dwellings that were also inundated. Among them: the legendary Farmington Diner, McDonald’s and Gifford’s Ice Cream.

According to Farmington’s Civil Defense director, Dr. Thomas Eastler, what spared the area even greater damage was the absence of ice jams. According to Eastler, they would have likely resulted in the loss of other bridges besides the one in Fairbanks. They also would have driven flood waters even higher than the menu boards at Gifford’s.

Even without ice, many areas including the Farmington Diner/intervale neighborhood experienced a 100-year flood. At Farmington Falls, water was so high it reached 500-year flood levels, one supposedly not likely to happen for another half millenium.

The simultaneous occurrence of several factors were at play in the ‘87 flood:

• A snow pack with as much as l0 inches of water equivalent;
• Rapid rainfall that was as high as eight inches in hills and mountains;
• Frozen ground that wouldn’t allow any ground absorption;

But is recurrence of a 1987-style flood that unlikely now? Not necessarily according to Channel 13 meteorologist Charlie Loprest, who observed for this columnist a few days ago:

“I think this kind of thing can happen almost any year because all you need is a normal snow pack, warm temperatures and a lot of rain to fall on top if it. It’s like a ticking time bomb whenever you have a snow pack in spring. Like last year, we still had snow on the ground in March, but we had a slow melt of that one. If we were to get three to eight inches of rain out of it on March 31st, we could have seen a scenario just as bad as the ’87 storm.”

Fairbanks Bridge survivor David Currier, now 56, and Farmington Falls Fire rescuer Junior Turner, now a recently retired popular Farmington barber, both remain mindful though a bit philosophical. As Currier observes today, “There was not much anyone could do. It was a freak flood.”

For both it’s an experience they will, however, never forget. Nor should any of the rest of us.

Paul H. Mills is a Farmington attorney well known for his analyses and historical understanding of Maine’s political scene. He can be reached by e-mail: pmills@myfairpoint.net