Few Manitobans will forget the ravaging effects of the flood that swept through the Red River Valley in 1997.
Rene and Monique Lafond are among them.
The Lafonds found their home under siege that year, when the Red River spilled over its banks and created a sea above a vast area of farmland south of Winnipeg. Although the floodwaters have long ago subsided, Rene and Monique are still feeling the effects.
“I have more grey hair than I did five years ago,” quipped Rene, when reflecting on the stress of being besieged by the raging Red River. “Some guys lost their hair. Mine got grey.”
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The Lafonds farm near St. Jean Baptiste, a community about 30 kilometres from the Canada/United States border. They traveled to Brandon last week to share their experiences at the Manitoba-North Dakota Zero Tillage Workshop.
During the flood, which struck during the spring of 1997, the Lafonds had 1,400 acres of land under water. Their home resembled a fortress, with a makeshift dike of sandbags defending it against the murky Red River.
“It’s pretty miserable when you see whitecaps on the field,” said Rene, a quiet-spoken father of four children.
The sandbag dikes kept the flood from swamping the Lafonds’ home. But the waters submerged much of their two-car garage and delayed their spring seeding. Yields from that crop were dismal when compared to normal years.
For more than a month, the Lafonds’ main means of transportation was a boat provided by Manitoba’s natural resources department. That boat allowed them to escape their island home when they needed groceries or a break from the isolation.
But their headaches didn’t end when the floodwaters subsided. Debris from the flood littered their fields and farm yard. They are still working to remove that debris from trees around their yard.
They opted to move their grain bins and a grain dryer to higher ground last summer. And they are now debating where to move their house. It’s likely they will move it to St. Jean Baptiste, which is defended from future floods by a dike around its perimeter.
Leaving their current farm site won’t be easy, however. Monique wishes there was another option.
“We’ll have to split the house in half,” she said, trying to inject some humor into their dilemma. “Rene wants to move it into town. I want to stay where we are.”
There’s always paperwork to contend with. Forms had to be filled out to claim compensation for the poor crop in 1997. Other forms had to be filled out for government assistance to move or fortify farm buildings. More forms will arrive on their desk once they decide what to do with their home.
Still, the Lafonds consider themselves lucky. The 1997 flood caused depression and marital breakdowns among families less able to cope with the stress. And there were nearby homes that were destroyed or later condemned due to the effects of the flood.
The landscape around St. Jean Baptiste has been reshaped in the aftermath of the flood. Several farm families have already relocated into town, rather than risk the perils of another flood. At least one farm family opted to move out of the area entirely.
Thirty years ago, there were 11 farms within a few kilometres of the Lafond farm. Once the Lafonds move their house, that number will have dropped to three. A sequence of floods during the past three decades accounts for part of that trend.
“People don’t have any choice any more,” said Dominique. “The farm yards are slowly emptying.”
Their area saw flooding in 1966, 1974, 1979, 1996 and again in 1997. After contending with two floods in a row, the Lafonds sometimes feel as though they are going backward instead of forward. But they cling to a conviction that they’ll recover from the floods’ effects and that life will return to normal.
“We’re in this for the long run,” Dominique concluded. She and Rene view farming as
a lifestyle with many hopes and dreams still remaining.
