Thirty Years Ago: The Ice-jam Floods of 1996

It all started rather innocently as a typically cold early January with sheets of ice covering the river and with soils on the lands in the remainder of the lower Susquehanna watershed frozen solid.  Then came the “Blizzard of ’96”, blanketing much of the valley with between 20 and 30 inches of wind-driven snow.

Snowfall totals for the “Blizzard of ’96”, January 6-8, 1996.  (NOAA/National Weather Service image)

In affected areas of Pennsylvania, Governor Tom Ridge closed all state roads for the duration of the snowfall event.  Many would remain closed for much of the following week as drifting hampered exhaustive efforts to get impassable routes open.

"Blizzard of '96"
In congested, high-density neighborhoods, cars remained buried for lack of anywhere to go with the snow.  (Vintage 35 mm image)
"Blizzard of '96"
In more suburban areas, it was often a day-long chore to excavate a path to the street.  (Vintage 35 mm image)

Just as the recovery entered its second week, a change in the weather pattern took hold as milder air and spring-like rains hastened the melt.  Clogged by snow often several feet in depth, storm sewer inlets and other drainage features failed to collect the runoff.  Street and urban flooding became widespread.  Some buildings, particular those with large flat roofs, experienced structural damage due to any remaining snow soaking up the additional weight of the rain.  As local creeks swelled to stain snowy meadows brown, attention shifted to the icy river.

On the Susquehanna, rising waters started moving ice into accumulating piles of car-sized chunks behind dams and at choke points along the river’s course.  During warmer weather, stream gauges provide a depth of water reference known as a stage (measured in feet) that corresponds to a rate of flow passing the gauge site (measured in cubic feet per second).  On occasions when ice and debris block river channels during winter, these readings can fluctuate wildly and the relationship between stage and flow can become dubious.  When the water is running ice-free at Harrisburg for example, a gauge reading of about 11.1 feet is indicated when the river flow rate is approximately 162,000 cubic feet per second.  But due to its impact on the capability of the river channels to pass water, the presence of slow-moving and jammed ice can cause rapid and sometimes unpredictable variations in gauge readings, even when the flow rate remains steady.  Impaired by an ice jam at the gauging station or just downriver, a flow of 162,000 cubic feet per second could lead to a stage measurement significantly higher than 11.1 feet, and the area of adjacent floodplain inundated by rising waters will increase to a corresponding degree.  Conversely, a jam upstream of the gauging station could cause the reading to drop below 11.1 feet—at least temporarily—then look out, a dangerous surge could be forthcoming!

At Harrisburg, the ice jam behind the Dock Street Dam in January, 1996, caused devastating flooding in the city’s Shipoke neighborhood, on City Island, and in low-lying areas along the river’s west shore.

USGS Gauging Station at Harrisburg
Just upriver from the Dock Street Dam at Harrisburg, the Susquehanna at the United States Geological Survey gauging station on the east side of City Island crested at 25.08 feet on January 20, 1996.  As the rising waters finally began heaving the jammed ice up and over the dam, the scouring energy of the departing glacier-like mounds would carry away two spans of the truss-construction Walnut Street Bridge on the west side of the island, and eventually collapse a third.  After receding during the remainder of the day and through the night, yet another aggregation of chunked ice would cause the river to crest again on January 21st, this time at 24.66 feet.  Under free-flowing conditions, these readings would correspond to a river flow of just under 600,000 cubic feet per second; that’s more than 250 million gallons per minute!

Downriver at Conewago Falls, ice jams behind the York Haven Dam and at several choke points within the riverine archipelago that extends from Haldeman Island to Haldeman Riffles in Lancaster County would be relieved as the river crested there during the afternoon of January 21st.  The following photograph accurately relates the scene, minus the stench of mammalian feces and petroleum emanating from the polluted water of course.

Susquehanna River cresting below Conewago Falls on January 21, 1996.
Our friends (L to R) Rick Morton, Bob Zeager, Dan Seitz and his daughter Sierra witness the ice-choked Susquehanna River cresting below Conewago Falls on January 21, 1996.  Bob awoke the previous morning inside his mobile home (left rear) to discover he was rapidly being surrounded by fast-rising water.  With the ice-covered road now submerged in over three feet of river, he had no hope of getting out with his van, so he started removing clothing and a few other essentials by canoe.  Dan soon arrived to move a few of his things to higher ground and de-energize both properties.  We did our best to lend a hand, then we all got out of the floodplain.  A short time after we had departed, Rick arrived and became concerned when he saw Bob’s van, now in almost four feet of water alongside his home.  Rick parked his conveyance, also a van, on a rise in the lowland terrain, then made his way back the old Pennsylvania Canal towpath to make sure Bob wasn’t stranded.  After concluding that he had already evacuated, Rick returned via the towpath to his van.  He then discovered that yet another surge of quickly rising water had inundated the ice-covered section of access road by which he had arrived, so he was forced to wade out, leaving his vehicle behind.  A short time later, he reached us by telephone proclaiming, “I’m out!”, and told us the story.  As the flood receded, Rick was able to retrieve his van on January 22nd.  Bob’s van was totally destroyed and both his and Dan’s mobile homes were left uninhabitable.  Though by no means their first experience with river flooding, this event proved particularly costly and stressful for Bob and Dan…the effects life-altering.  The moral of the story: floodplains are for flooding, not filling, not building, and certainly not dwelling.  Floodplains happen to make outstanding wildlife preserves, and that’s what this water-purifying alluvial terrace wetland is today.  (Vintage 35 mm image)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *