People and the Creek: The Great Flood of 1955 People and the Creek: The Great Flood of 1955 (November 17, 2004)

This is the 13th part of the story of the people who have lived on the banks of the San Francisquito Creek and its tributaries through the centuries.

By Nancy Lund

San Francisquito Creek and its tributaries played smaller roles in the lives of residents as neighborhoods built up further and further from their banks. But the creek's immediate neighbors continued to pay careful attention to the stream. For example, on Woodland Avenue, the pavement was within six inches of the creek bank in places. People living near Olive and Bay Laurel reported dangerous cliff conditions on their private property. Floods weren't a new experience for people living near the creek. From the earliest recorded times, as far back as 1862 when sawmills were washed away and Searsville residents had to abandon their homes, the creek has periodically left its banks. In fact, there were six floods between 1910 and 1955. Yet at Christmas time in 1955, the surging waters spilling over the banks surprised everyone in the area. The Palo Alto Times covered the disaster in great detail. Thousands had to flee their homes as the creek escaped from its banks at Middlefield, the Pope/Chaucer Bridge and in the region around Bayshore. Streets in the Greer Park area had over a foot of mud. In some homes, the water rose to the tops of people's beds. Christmas trees stood in water; presents floated around their bases. About 650 homes were flooded with water, dirt and debris, causing about $1 million of damage in an era when houses cost around $10,000. In a review of the '50's in the July 4, 1990 issue, the Palo Alto Weekly wrote about the Bianucci family of Happy Hollow off Alpine Road.
"...[They] were watching television when the raging San Francisquito Creek broke [their] back door and poured into the house. 'We got out just in time,' [Mrs. Bianucci] told a newspaper reporter of the day. The couple returned the next day to a scene of utter desolation, with four feet of water in the living room and a layer of mud coating the wall."
Twelve hundred acres of commercial and residential property, 70 acres of farmland, the Palo Alto airport and municipal golf course, newly relocated at the Baylands, were underwater. The flood produced an outpouring of support of neighbor for neighbor. Over 1,000 people were given shelter in the Jordan Junior High cafeteria. A downtown merchant opened his store for the Red Cross; a grocer brought sandwiches and soup. Families began to return home on Christmas Eve. One little child was enchanted on returning to her home on Indian Drive. "Oh, a duck pond in our own house!" she squealed. In a survey conducted after the flood, 80 percent f the victims reported that they had believed no real danger existed until it actually happened. Debris had jammed at the Bayshore Highway Bridge, causing the water to back up. Crews went to work clearing flotsam and jetsam and placing sacks of concrete on 800 linear feet of the south bank between Bayshore and Newell Road. They built security fences filled with straw and gravel. The Times reported on the private citizens who spent thousands of dollars to protect their homes. For example, a pair of neighbors on West Crescent put in a solid concrete wall 400 feet long, 38 feet high and from 1 1/2 to 6 inches thick anchored by piers and steel bars. Mrs. Anne Browne told a reporter, "This job is costing me more than my house is worth." Sunset Magazine, which had just moved creekside five years earlier, spent $25,000 for a riprap wall. The creek had proved to be more than an idyllic stream wandering through neighborhoods on its way to the bay. Would these solutions be enough to prevent another disaster?
Next: The Search for Solutions Continues.

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