You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy!™
Flying over one river that has turned into five rivers. Flying over homes with mud on their rooves. Flying over cul-de-sacs that have become circular lakes of concrete encrusted hell.
I spent Monday and Tuesday in a Jet Ranger chopper. It’s a beautiful aircraft that flies smooth and steady. It has a top speed of 130 knotts, but with the doors off and three people inside, we could only do 80 without experiencing turbulence.
If Sunday was armeggedon, then Monday was down right beautiful. The sun was shining and hope clung to the sky. If I wasn’t flying over so much despair and destruction, this would be the trip of a lifetime. As it was, I will never forget the flight over the flood of the century.
We took off from Lebanon Tennessee, a few miles east of the Nashville Airport. Aaron was our pilot. The young man was a former tailgunner for the marines. He told of us blasting ass from the rear of Cobra gun ships and other war machines in Afghanistan. Now he was flying us on the tour of destruction.
We followed a plume of dark smoke spiralling into the clear blue sky.
As we got to the source, we quickly saw it was a home that was on fire. The home was on an island of dirty water, with no way in and no way out. Firefighters needed a boat to get to this calamity unfolding.
From the unchecked fire, we circled another neighborhood, and another cul-de-sac filled with water.
Nobody in Middle Tennessee has been spared. Not even our chopper pilot. Our first stop was lakewood. A middle class neigbhborhood where entire neighborhoods were submerged.
Aaron starts to tell us that the house with the pool in the back yard, with the water up to the garage is his house. He begins to tell us with emotion in his voice, that his kids don’t know how bad it is. He tells us from 1300 feet in the air as we bank left that his boys, ages six and eight were swimming in the water Sunday, not knowing how devestating this is.
Thankfully nobody was hurt and Aaron knows that with persistence his possessions can be replaced.
We head off to Opryland and the extent of the damage is overwhelming. This is a massive hotel, known around the world for its botanical gardens and river boats and waterfalls and Southern Decor, all under a glass dome topped with a cherry.
Opryland is the hotel, and Oprymills is the shopping center right next door. There is the Bass pro shop and Gibson Guitars and the Imax theater and the Apple Barn and Macy’s. All of it is under water, like an upscale Island of merchandise lost to the flood.
The hotel has all ready been evacuated. 1500 guests and 500 employees moved to a make shift shelter at the High School.
Water is so high inside the hotel, the chairs in the hotel bars are floating. The water is so high that it is cascading down the escalators. The GM will get on tv and say that it could be 3 months before the facility is open again.
3 months! Opryland employes hundreds of people. It entertains thousands of guests a year. It is responsible for perhaps 5% of the hotel tax for the entire region. 3 Months!!
The Grand Ole Opry is also under water. The show must go on so the performances will be held at locations around the community.
Nashville isn’t known as Music City for nothing. Keith Urban, and John Rich and Kenny Chesney and Faith Hill and Tim McGraw have all been affected. Their homes are either under water or their equipment is destroyed in warehouses that were buried by the river’s fury.
I have seen Chesney on Anderson Cooper on CNN. I have seen John Rich and George Jones on Fox News. These entertainers have the power to focalize the national media, to illuminate the to the fact that this region is hurting.From Opryland, we fly to Nashville. River front park is underwater. This is where the General Jackson paddle boat anchors. This is where summer concerts are held.
First avenue is flooded. The big guitar at the hard rock seems suspended in the filthy brown water. The water is surging up Broadway toward world famous 2nd avenue where a row of honky tonks begin.
We fly over LP field where the Titans play. The stadium is dry in the morning. But by mid afternoon, we will report breaking news that the stadium field is flooded with four feet of water. That is how quickly the Cumberland River is raging.
With the warm air blowing in the cockpit, we ask BNA tower for permission to move West. We fly past the venerable state Capital where Volunteers like Andrew Jackson walked the halls.
We swing by Bellevue which is under water. We bank over Franklin, the first community really hit by the flood. I can see that the water is receding. Thank God. I wave to my family who is below me on the soggy grass drying out towels and possessions.
I think it really hit me when we flew ot Ashland City and looked for the Cheatham Dam and could not find it. That’s right, we couldn’t find the dam. Apparently, the flood waters were several feet over the top of the dam and it was buried under dark brown muck like everything else.
When a river can consume a dam, you know you got big trouble.
Sadly there is more to come.