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Water, Water Everywhere

The Tennessee River has swollen again, and nothing stops it Not the locks or the dams Not the TVA I know that it was different once—that Chattanooga was a crossroads, alive and healthy; a place of pros left wet for too long, it warps It rots And noould drown us all to keep us

The great gorge fills, and the city sinks behind me

In 1973 when the river last rose like this, my aunt Louise was fourteen years old and my mother Leslie was eleven They lived on the north shore of the city, but this was back before the neighborhoods were renovated into quirky suburbia There was no sprawling green park or blue-topped carousel with vintage-look horses

On the very spot where the lion fountains spit water streams in the sus utilitarian and ray and s—a barn for the army’s cast-off supplies, surrounded by a chain-link fence

Lu said she never saw anyone cohborhood kids knew, it was deserted—and therefore a target This is a story I had to drag out of her throat, word by word

She’s never liked to talk about my mother

By the ti and the river lapped up against the rocky bank at the bottom of the short hill The chain-link fence isted open in h to fit a teenaged girl through

It was a neighborhood gaet inside fastest, who could find the coolest souvenir Who could stay inside the longest without getting scared

“It’s e in there but a bunch of old equipment, and et inside ”

“Because you and Shelly ithoutthe fence back and holding it tight “That’s why ”

Lu ducked underneath and took Leslie’s hand to bring her through the hole “If I’d known you’d ht you sooner Now’s not a good tis are flooding up ”

“It’s got to be nohile Moht If you hadn’t got caught, we could go on Sunday ”

“We could still go on Sunday if you really want ”