The Flood is an autobiographical account of the 1973 flood in the Kersey, Colorado area. That April, there was a sudden breach in a local reservoir, which sent the town into pandemonium. News helicopters were present as the nearby farm community pooled together to load cattle into trucks and out of harm’s way.
Jim Klein happened to experience this moment in history from the frontlines of his family’s farm.
As part of the Beethoven in the Rockies series, Jim Klein and collaborator/composer Ian Jamison recreate the harrowing memory in musical form as told from the perspective of a cow caught in the middle of the chaos.
How did you find out this flood was happening?
Jim: I had been working on a ranch outside of Kersey, driving around in my pickup, completing errands or some other work with the radio on. An uneventful day, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I remember the sky being clear and blue.
A local news alert abruptly interrupted the radio: a nearby reservoir dam had failed and a wall of water was heading towards Kersey. The radio described the area that was under evacuation, urging everyone to leave the area. The more details that came in, it dawned on me: my family’s farm was directly in the path of the flood.
I floored my pickup, tearing down country roads as fast as I could. 30 miles laid between me and my family’s farm, but the minutes melted away in my hurry. Before I knew it, I was waving to the sheriff’s blockade at the head of our farm’s road. The sheriff let me through and down the dirt road back home.
It was complete and total pandemonium at the farm.
Neighbors and friends were scrambling all over the property, shouting out instructions, loading our cattle into trailers, and herding others where they could fit. The cows, sensing the panic, were scared and bellowing and calling to each other, adding to the chaos.
It was all so intense; I was frozen in the present moment. The sounds of the terrified cows screaming to each other colliding with the neighbors’ yelling and hollering while they ran around the property drowned out all my senses. I could only watch the turmoil, dimly aware of a wall of water slowly approaching to the west.
Suddenly, the farm was empty.
The neighbors and trucks had taken off down the road, our animals pulled to safety and the property cleared. Dusty clouds settled on the road as their bellows became faint.
I was alone …and the water was still approaching.
The trance was broken, I had to move. I had to get help! I took off running towards the small office building. If I could get a news station on the phone, they could send a helicopter to pick me up. I dialed the news station, but the line just kept ringing. I tried a few other places, no one was answering. There wasn’t time to waste. The water breached a nearby irrigation ditch, smashing the concrete to pieces. I had to find high ground.
The water was flooding the property and rising fast. I was running out of time… Our old tractor was parked near the corral; that would have to work! I climbed up and watched the waters sweep through the property.
I don’t recall how long I sat on that tractor, watching the flood water rise and then finally recede. Once the water on the far road was lower than the tractor frame, I tried the engine and was relieved to find it ran. I drove off towards town, having to guess where the road still ran under the flood water.
Slowly, the tractor and I made our way to Kersey. The town was still standing but the damage was there. A Red Cross van had set up on a hill above the railroad tracks, handing out McDonald’s cheeseburgers to folks. So, that day after a historic flood, I sat on our old tractor and ate a cheeseburger.
When the chaos settled and I got a hold of my family, I learned we hadn’t lost any animals thanks to the generosity and persistence of our friends and neighbors. It was touching how a community could come together to help each other out in such a selfless way.
How does this experience translate to your latest musical piece?
Jim: The composition’s structure features two distinct sections, and is cast from the point of view of a cow. The first section represents the pastoral peace and idyllic beauty of the locale. Inasmuch as it is defined by its absence of external conflict, it can be associated with a sense of general fulfillment in being.
The second section is announced by ominous brass fanfare.The music depicts the chaos and disorienting panic that ensued as it became obvious that disaster was afoot.
