The Green Cup, a coffee
shop nestled next to the covered bridge in Waitsfield, Vermont, is gone. Wiped out by Irene. It was gutted by the raging flood. Next to it, the old white clapboard photo studio, lifted off it’s 19th
century foundation, sits slammed into the coffee house. The two buildings are jammed together like a car wreck. Just down the street also gone is a wonderful restaurant
called Mint and a dozen or more other small businesses next to the Mad River.
I drove through Waitsfield, Fayston and Warren. Stopping to help mop up a bit, driving
all the way to Granville – usually a fifteen minute drive south of my home town
of Warren but this day taking an hour over torn-up, patched up and mangled dirt
roads (Route 100 through Granville Gulf is washed out). Talking to people along the way, I
found communities that had been slapped hard but not knocked down.
The village of Waitsfield was my first stop. The elementary school was a beehive of
activity. At first I thought the
school had been flooded and volunteers were pulling stuff from the
building. No, it had not been hit
by the flood but was the center of a clothing drive. A bit further down Route 100, in the old Masonic Hall, the
volunteer dispatch headquarters bustled.
This team – using a Facebook page as a clearinghouse – was moving
resources where needed throughout the Mad River Valley. “We need trucks and strong backs,” said
the volunteer I talked to. And
then she was off to answer her mobile phone.
The Masonic Hall and all the other buildings on the north side of
Route 100 were high and dry and fit as a fiddle. One hundred feet down Bridge Street, however, was another
story. I walked the short distance
to the covered bridge, which remains standing but its footings are badly
damaged. The photo studio, which
thrived for years in the old white clapboard shed, was resting hard against the
coffee shop.
From the street The Green Cup did not look so bad. I walked into the shop thinking I might
actually get a cup of coffee. Of
course not. There was no ‘inside’
to speak of. The walls, floors,
windows were gone. The room
smelled of a potent mix of cleaning liquid, earth, silt and heating oil. The owner – a young man living the
dream of running a terrific business – walked by in shock.
Around the corner stood the shell of Mint, the two-year-old
phenomenal vegetarian restaurant and tea-house. The guts of the restaurant were
on the street – toilets, sinks, kitchen racks and appliances, all lined up as
if ready for a yard sale. I spoke
very briefly with the owner as he cleaned up the site. He said they closed and the river was
high, “but in five minutes it was up to here,” he said, slashing at his
shoulders. He shook his head. I asked him what they needed. “Courage,” he shot back, and then he
teared up and went back to work.
Heading south toward Route 17, the little league field was covered
in silt. Irasville was not hit
hard – not compared to Bridge Street or Waterbury – and both Route 17 to
Fayston and Route 100 south toward Warren were in fairly good shape.
The village of Warren was essentially spared, with a small section
of Flat Iron Road washed out. The
covered bridge in Warren survived too, although its footings are nearly gone.
I drove toward East Warren and took Plunkton Road toward
Granville. This back way around
Granville Gulf is the long way on the best of days. Post Irene the drive was harrowing, with town crews hard at
work making it passable, allowing Granville to be connected to the North at
least by this thread of back roads.
Granville was hit fairly hard by Irene. I saw one house, apparently not damaged, with a late-model
car parked carefully in the drive way, separated from Route 100 by a twenty
foot deep, fifty foot wide ditch scoured between the road and the house by the
raging waters of Irene. I wonder
how long it will be before that car is back on the road. Another house was off its
foundation. People were picking
through stuff. One man mowed his
lawn, seemingly trying to ignore the mess behind him.
All along the roads, from Waterbury to Granville, heavy trucks
plied back and forth, emergency lights flashing, hauling earthmovers and men to
get the roads open as best they could.
Vermont’s roads are a mess, no doubt about it. The damage is severe and in many places the roads damaged
are the hardest to work on, wedged between a mountain and a river. No one is panicking, though. AOT Secretary Brian Searles’ comment in
the New York Times this past Saturday said it best: “We will not be overwhelmed by this,” he said. “We will conquer
the obstacles that exist.”
With all the recover work underway throughout the Mad River
Valley, it was surreal to say the least to see the Mad River Valley hosting the
Green Mountain Stage Race the day I visited. Intermingled with the teams attempting to right the mess
made by Irene were iron-man bicyclists and their support crews – as intent on
racing up the Brook Road in East Warren as the road crews were in fixing the
roads.
Was this focus on sport callous? Without a doubt it is an odd site to see recreation
alongside reconstruction; on the other hand the communities hit by the storm
need visitors and revenue as much – if not more – now than they did before. Come visit. It’s a beautiful late summer. And maybe bring some muck boots with you.
I learned a few things about agriculture driving around the
Valley. I learned the hay rolls
wrapped in plastic float. The
large white balls of hay randomly dotted the flattened flood plain like a
Christo sculpture. It will be a
lot of work to round them all up, no matter how artistic they look. I learned too farmers cannot harvest
corn or hay when the crops are covered with silt. The machines can’t take the silt on their blades. As odd as it sounds, the farmers need
rain to wash the silt off what crops can be salvaged. Winter feed for livestock will be an issue this year.
The lasting image of my travels around some towns hurt by Irene
comes from Waterbury. Main Street
was like a war zone. Heavy trucks
kicked up dust and the sides of the road were piled high with garbage, wet
clothes, destroyed furniture.
People hustled about dragging stuff from damaged homes, raking, loading
skips, pumping basements, pulling out oil tanks. As I crawled through town in the thick traffic, two women
sat on a stoop, facemasks dangling around their necks, talking, eating
sandwiches, smiling.
I learned during my tour Vermonters independent streak and
community spirit is alive and well.
No one was complaining the day I visited, they were just getting on with
it.
SIDEBAR:
To
help our communities recover from Irene these websites (some focused just on
the Mad River Valley) are a few of the many good resources:
http://vtresponse.wordpress.com/ --
links communities and people with needs to those who can and want to help.
http://www.facebook.com/MRVpostIrene?ref=ts&sk=wall
-- this facebook page aligns volunteers with the needs of people and businesses
in the Mad River Valley.
http://www.veda.org/ -- The Vermont Economic
Development Corporation has allocated up to $10 million for low interest loans
to help those impacted by Irene.
http://mrvcommunityfund.org/ -- the Mad
River Valley Community Fund has activated a special flood relief fund.
http://www.mintvermont.com/ -- if you
are a fan of this great restaurant you can donate right through their website.
David Rocchio lives, works and writes in Stowe, Vermont. (c) 2011 David Rocchio
