By Teresa Martin
Klaiber Feb. 2020
Eighty
years after the 1937 flood, it was so horrific, no one forgets. It was late January, cold and miserable
when the waters of the mighty Ohio rose over 74 feet out of its banks into
Portsmouth, Ohio. Statistics say that
nearly two-thirds of the city residents were forced out of their homes. Many found the highest point on Waller Hill
for safety. Some of the schools were
utilized as refugee housing. This compiler’s
paternal grandmother, Clara Page Geer Martin, who lived on Waller, helped the
Red Cross, having set up their station in front of the Presbyterian
Church. She would continue to volunteer
for the Red Cross during World War II.
People
with second stories rushed to move belongings upstairs. Katherine Marie Halderman Feyler and extended
family were not exempt. Her mother, Anna
Katherine Gorath Halderman was 82, widowed, and lived next door on the corner
of 9th and Gay and needed to be prepared as well. Katherine’s husband’s dental office was
tucked between her parent’s home and 822 Gay Street where they lived. The
dental equipment needed to be saved. It was a daunting task to get as much
belongings as possible on the second floor from three structures. Some items were too large and bulky to
move. They did not anticipate the rise to
reach the second story. When the water crested it was lapping just about 3
inches from the ceiling. This compiler
remembers her grandparents re-papering the dining room and painting many times
and could see the faint water line as it leached onto the new paper even into
the 1960’s. Water collected and
remained in the houses even as the flood receded.
I
have mentioned before, my cherished bow front cabinet that was in the house
during the flood (Family Heirlooms Have Value…10 October 2015). At some
point they could hear clanking as the water stirred and rippled. As the water level lowered, they discovered a
large piece of wood was continually banging against the beautiful bow front
cabinet sitting in the dining room. They
had been able to empty the cabinet but it was too large to take up the
stairs. Miraculously the fragile bowed
glass was not even scratched.
Katherine’s
daughters, age 18 and 20 at the time, gave vivid accounts of the flood. As the front door was pried open remaining
water, along with pieces of wood washed out.
It was all that was left of Katherine’s baby grand piano. Dramatically
she cried “I shall never play again.”
And she didn’t. I never heard her
talk about the flood, nor even knew of her musical background until she went to
a nursing home in her twilight years. She
was always a soft-spoken gentle soul.
Kathrine Marie
Halderman Feyler
At
the age of 18, Katherine attended the Cincinnati College of Music. [i]
Today it is the Conservatory of Music at the University of Cincinnati. By 1916 she is listed as a music teacher on
Gay Street in Portsmouth, Ohio.
Daughter, Mary Helen said when her mother tried to teach her to play, she
would cry and her mother finally gave up.
Katherine was in a nursing home, with Alzheimer’s disease, for several
years prior to her death in August 1980.[ii] We had gone to visit when the desk nurse said
“I did not know your mother played the piano.” Startled my mother told her not
since she was very young. The nurse said
Katherine had wandered into the common room, sat down and played a beautiful waltz. They tried several times afterwards to get
her to play without success.
[i]
Portsmouth Daily Times. Social news’ 21 Dec. 1910
[ii] Ohio, Department of Health, Death Certificate Scioto
County, Ohio (15 August 1980); Ohio Department of Health, Columbus, Franklin
County, Ohio.
