Well, I hope y’all have enjoyed a taste of Fargo a couple of weeks back. Yes, that week of freezing snow, ice and sleet is one of the main reasons I’m a southerner.
Of course, if you live in Fargo, you are probable warm and cozy, and that blast of North Pole air was just another reason why your house, pipes and clothes are well insulated, and I’ll just bet you are reading about how non-prepared the old Lone Star State was, and are shaking your head. Yes, Texas is paying the piper, you might say, because the same natural gas compressors, windmills and other energy equipment in North Dakota was still roaring along while Texas was having a National Emergency.
Texas, as well as most of the South, has been having warmer than usual winters, and they didn’t think the extra insulation was needed. But with the disrupted climate changes, things such as more hurricanes and Arctic air roaring into the South are beginning to happen. Of course, if you are freezing in the dark without water, knowing why doesn’t help you.
I’m not going to dig into the whys, what was looking like an early spring turned into a freezing hell for nearly a week, but that, what they might call a “cold snap” in Fargo, will always be known in these parts as The Big Freeze,” and we’ll tell our grandchildren how the Starbucks had to close, and since the Pandemic was still hot and heavy, we had to hunker down with just the snappy family for days while we watched re-runs of Raymond until we had the lines memorized.
Yes, some of it was just being inconvenienced, but then when it happened to you, it was pure cold hell, and let me whine a bit and tell you how I knocked a hole in our bathroom wall to keep from creating Lake Mason. It started on Friday, and that was the toughest day in south Arkansas, and I was worried that my koi pond in the front yard with about 15 koi was going to freeze solid, and I was going to have frozen fish when Vertis ran into where I was hunkered down having to watch Dr. Fauci tell us we were going be wearing masks until 2025 or later, but I was actually thinking, since a good cotton mask helps keep your face warm, that might not be so bad. Then Vertis ran into the den yelling. “Water is coming out of the wall and the bathroom is being flooded!”
Yes, that will get you moving, and I ran into our bathroom, and sure enough, for once, Vertis wasn’t exaggerating. Water was running out of an under the counter cabinet like crazy, and I remember a plumber telling me that we had between 85 and 100 pounds of pressure on our water line. Then, I thought “So what,” but now, when I opened the under counter door, water roared out into the bathroom, I figured that extra water pressure might be great watering your lawn, but not when you have a busted pipe in the wall. I’m not a plumber, but it was obvious we had a broken pipe and it was in the wall. The water was coming out between cracks where the back wall came together. Of course, I immediately started to try and stop the water from going into the bathroom, which led to our bedroom one way and into the dining room through another door, and we didn’t have a floor drain anywhere.
Actually, I don’t think anyone has floor drains.
Well, I tried to stop the flow by jamming towels into the spot where most of the water was coming out, but that didn’t work. And then, as water started coming into the bedroom and dining room, I knew I had lost the battle. I rushed up to the road where our water meter is located, and dug out the snow, dirt, and leaves until I got to the meter… but I didn’t have anything to turn off the water. It takes a special long handled tool. Of course, I wondered why they didn’t just have a valve. But I figured the plumber’s union wanted to make sure not just anyone, and that was me, could just reach in and in seconds turn off the water.
I ran back to the house — try running in 10 inches of snow and ice — and when I got there I could tell if I didn’t do something more than open a door, we were going to have water a foot deep in the living room, which drops down about 18 inches. So I headed for our tool shed, which is just a junk closet in the carport, and the only tool I could find that might help was a sledgehammer. Well, when you are in a crisis anything might do, so I grabbed the sledge hammer and tackled the problem.
I know you don’t repair busted pipes with a sledge hammer, but I had a plan.
I ran outside to where I was opposite to where the busted pipe was pouring water into the bathroom…and I started swinging.
Yep, since I didn’t have a floor drain, I was going to make one in the side of our redwood paneled house.
“Damn,” I thought as I blamed away, “that redwood is tough.”
Yep it was tough all right, but eventually, if you hammer anything with a full size sledge hammer long enough, something has got to give and it was nearly me. However, I finally broke through, pulled out the wet insulation and managed to get the copper pipe that went to an outside faucet off. I ran back into the house and stuffed nearly every available towel in the gaping hole, which let the water roar — outside!
Later, we had someone who worked on our downtown properties come by and turn off the water with a meter tool, and the next day we had a plumber repair the busted pipe. The water made it into our bedroom, bathroom, and dining room, and we used every towel in the house to try and control the water. We have had a clothes dryer spinning for days, but there is good news; my front yard koi pond, which looked like solid ice, has thawed, and the koi are all in good shape. Yes, I really couldn’t believe it. I just stuck my hand in the front pool and it was like a deep freeze.
Well, since we lived in Texas for 12 years on and off, we still have a lot of friends we keep up with, and when we called one and asked how she was, she said, “I’m fine, but I don’t have any water, electricity or heat.”
Yes, I felt really stupid, whining about a single busted pipe and having to flush the toilet with snow water for almost 24 hours.
Richard Mason is a registered professional geologist, downtown developer, former chairman of the Department of Environmental Quality Board of Commissioners, past president of the Arkansas Wildlife Federation, and syndicated columnist. Email [email protected].