God is Our Refuge

Fifty-four years ago, I learned just how quickly life can change.

It was Thursday evening, June 22, 1972, and I was attending summer school at Lock Haven University. I worked at the college library and had finished my shift at 9 P.M. There had been a downpour of rain since about 10 AM. There seemed to be a lull in the storm so I  decided to take a stroll down to the Susquehanna River. The water was high, but it was still within its banks. There was no hint of the devastation that would unfold overnight.

I returned to my apartment near Piper Aircraft, climbed into bed, and fell asleep.

Sometime during the night, I vaguely remember hearing sirens. I woke up, listened for a moment, assumed there must be a fire somewhere, and drifted right back to sleep.

I had no idea those sirens weren’t warning of a fire.

They were warning of a flood.

The next morning, I opened my eyes to a completely different world. To my shock, the water was directly across the street from my apartment.

Hurricane Agnes had hit full force pouring down a torrential rain with the river and creeks that surrounded Lock Haven overflowing their banks. The town was completely surrounded by water.

It was Friday, and my roommates and I had planned to attend classes and then head home for the weekend, just as we always did. We never kept extra food in our apartment because we knew we’d be leaving.

Suddenly, we realized we had a problem.

We were totally surrounded by water and couldn’t get home.

Worse yet, we had no food.

We hurried to the local mom-and-pop grocery store only to discover that there were others who had gotten there before us. The shelves were nearly empty. No bread. No milk. Very little of anything.

Downtown Lock Haven looked like something from a disaster movie. Floodwaters had shattered the windows of Weis Market. Watermelons, cans, and groceries floated through the muddy water. Officials warned everyone not to eat anything floating by—it was contaminated.

Young, inexperienced, and completely unprepared, we didn’t know what to do next.

Then help arrived from above.

Helicopters flew over the university campus, dropping food supplies for stranded students and residents. The university dining hall became our gathering place as we ate simple meals of beans and hot dogs and waited.

And waited.

For three days, we were trapped by water.

No way out.

No place to go.

Nothing to do but watch and hope.

Finally, the floodwaters began to recede. An older student who lived near one of my roommates was heading home and offered us a ride.

Little did we know our adventure wasn’t over.

When we reached Shamokin Dam, we found the bridge across the Susquehanna River was closed. The floodwaters had risen to the very top of the Sunbury flood wall. People stood watching and praying that the wall would hold.

If it failed, disaster would follow.

Thankfully, it held.

When the bridge finally reopened, I eagerly continued my journey home. I will admit, in all honesty, that it was actually creepy going across that bridge with the flood waters just beneath it. I hoped the foundation was secure and we didn’t detach and float downstream.

Meanwhile, my father had been on a hunting trip in Canada. After receiving word that water was entering the basement of our home, he immediately started for Pennsylvania.

Believe it or not, Dad made it home before I did!

Years later, Don Rich, who had been hailed as a hero during that flood became a very close friend of our family. He had risked his own life to rescue a 14 year old young woman from the raging waters near near the Hamilton underpass at Sunbury. Richie, as we affectionately called him, gave us a firsthand account of his experience making me realize just how heroic his efforts had been. The hand of God was written all over, not only my story, but also Richie’s.

Looking back after all these years, what stands out most is not the destruction, but God’s faithfulness.

As I write this, there are tears of gratitude flowing down my cheeks. God was so good in protecting not only me, but my family and friends.

At the time, none of us knew what the next day would bring. Yet God did.

Psalm 46:1 reminds us, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”

Fifty-four years later, I still remember the rising waters, the helicopters, the empty store shelves, and the anxious uncertainty. But even more, I remember God’s protection, provision, and faithfulness through it all.

The floodwaters came and went, but the faithfulness of God remains.