The Past Brings Hopes of a Bright Furture

6 A.M. on a brisk June morning the slight fog begins to clear as I make my way down River Road to rowing practice. In early June, I can drive down the road easily, a Volvo driver on their way to Work at Humana here and there but no major traffic jams to upset my morning commute. One month or two ago this wasn’t the same story, bright orange “ROAD CLOSED” signs are scattered along every curve in warning  that the flood water of  the Ohio River had reached all the way to the concrete. Parks were underwater, street signs were under water; the I-64 Bridge peeks itself  barely out of the water that barges of over 195 feet  fit between only weeks ago.   In 2011, this flood was a hassle, a minor inconvenience, requiring us to move practice to land instead of rowing up the Ohio. In 1937, the raging flood waters of the Ohio devastated the city of Louisville. With the waters reaching historically uncharted heights the water took down buildings as if they were made of twigs.

About two hundred yards further down the road from the newly constructed G Garvin Brown III Louisville Boathouse, an old Victorian house front stands out against the bleak landscape. Only the brick front of mysterious home remains as this is one of the last surviving buildings on this road from before the 1937 flood. A bust of a man is framed in the peak of the second story of the house, thoughts of who the man was race through my mind, was he a king Louis, for whom the city was named? Was he the original owner of the house? Who was he?

The city of Louisville has restored the building as a monument to all that was lost in the devastating natural disaster. When first driving by, as an out-of-towner, new to the city of Louisville, I was confused at why there was an old building front in the middle of nowhere and nothing of its generation to be seen around it. It seemed to be out of place, but little did I know, everything else was invading its home, not the other way around. The more I learned about Louisville the more curious I got about the building front. Finally, on the way back from a team trip, I asked my friend who has lived in Louisville a while about the puzzling structure.   As she began to tell me the history of building, the more the conflicting emotions I felt seemed to make sense.

The intricate, detailed deigns of the window frame are true to the 1900’s style, much like the historically preserved homes in Old Louisville. Old homes that outlive the feeble, cheap homes of modern construction still stand strong against the elements. The red brick and gray stone stand steadfast against wind, water, and anything else Mother Nature wants to throw at it unlike the wavering drywall we build with today. The strong will and sweat that was poured into each layer of bricks layed into this building are immortalized in it one true home to stand for the dreams of those who made it through those hard months. In the pale sunlight of the early morning the building gives hopes of prospering through the hardest of times. 1937, the middle of the Great Depression, a shocking natural disaster seems to add more despair and suffering along with the worsening economy. I turn back toward the skyline of the city, beautiful tall buildings that are workplaces to the thousands of people that prosper in the city of Louisville. With all the devisation of tornadoes, floods, earthquakes, and othe natural disasters occuring now, the rebuilding of the city brings hope that we can restore all that is in shambles around our country.

Late at night, driving back to the boathouse after a long day of racing and traveling home, a bright yellow light protruding from the ground illuminates the house and the shadows point out the numerous details that men put hours of work to perfect every inch. The eerie surface is offset by the imagination recreating a humble family preparing for bed in what was their home. Imagining the life of a small girl looking out of her bedroom window by candlelight out onto the great Ohio River as the boats go by sends a glimmer of hope and simplicity.

The majestic home front had been restored to its original quality, placed on a pedestal to preserve the monument, setting the building apart from the road it divides, but unlike other historic places in Louisville, its story is not told on a plaque. The humble building stands alone in the fog of the Ohio.