Texas Historical Marker

Brazos River Levee

Cooks Point · Burleson County · placed 1978

Tales of Tragedy

Hear Duane tell it

Burleson County, Texas

Duane's take

Here's my telling of what the official marker along the Brazos has to say — and friend, it is a story worth slowing down for. The Brazos River. If you've driven through Burleson County long enough, you already know that river doesn't ask permission.

It just comes. And when it comes, it comes hard. Now, 1899 was the year that set the standard for dread in these parts.

Thirty inches of rain fell on this land. Thirty inches. Thirty-five people were killed, and the property damage ran to about nine million dollars.

Nine million. In 1899. And if you thought that would be the worst of it — well, the Brazos wasn't finished making its point.

Serious flooding came again in 1900, again in 1902, and again in 1908. The people living in those Brazos River bottoms endured all of it. So by 1909, folks had had enough.

A man named W.S. Mial, along with forty-nine other citizens, walked up to the commissioners of Burleson County and said: build us levees. Protect this farmland.

And here's the thing — the people of this county backed them up. In July of 1909, voters unanimously approved the bond issuance and the higher taxes to pay off the debt. Unanimously.

Every single vote. That tells you something about what those floods had done to people's nerves. Contractors Roach and Stansell went to work, and when they were done, they had built a nine-foot levee stretching thirty miles to the south.

Nine feet of earth standing between the people of Burleson County and the Brazos River. Seemed like salvation. Then came December 1913.

A storm rolled in — worse, far worse, than the 1899 flood that had already written itself into local memory as a catastrophe. But here's where the story turns dark, and I want you to sit with this for a moment. The residents of this area trusted those levees.

They depended on them for their safety. So when the water started rising — dangerously rising — they did not flee. They stayed.

Too late, they discovered what the levee had become: a trap. The structure that was built to hold the water out instead trapped it in. And then the levee broke.

What followed was a wall of destruction from which there was no escape. Victims rode out the flood on rooftops. In treetops.

Clinging to whatever the water hadn't taken yet. When it was over, one hundred and eighty people were dead. Eight million dollars in property was gone.

Now you might expect that after all that — after the levee failed so catastrophically, after one hundred and eighty souls lost — the people of Burleson County would have turned their backs on the whole idea. But they didn't. Still convinced of the value of levees, voters in 1914 approved reconstruction bonds.

They rebuilt. They stayed. They kept faith with this land even after it had broken their hearts.

The debt from those bonds was not retired until 1963 — long after modern flood control methods had finally made the area safe. Long after. That phrase does a lot of work, doesn't it.

The Brazos River took its time letting go of Burleson County. And Burleson County, it seems, never quite let go of the Brazos either.

What the marker says

Destructive Brazos River floods have often plagued residents of Burleson County. In 1899, a 30-inch rain killed 35 and caused about $9 million in property damage. Again in 1900, 1902 and 1908, Brazos River bottom inhabitants endured serious flooding. In 1909, W.S. Mial and 49 other citizens asked commissioners of Burleson County to build levees along the Brazos to protect the valuable farm land. In July 1909, voters unanimously approved the issuance of bonds and the higher taxes to pay off the debt. Contractors Roach and Stansell built the 9-foot levee which extended south for 30 miles. Its test came in December 1913 with a storm far worse than the 1899 flood. Residents of this area, depending on the levees for safety, did not flee until the water had risen dangerously. Too late, they discovered the levee trapped water and then broke, unleashing a wall of destruction from which there was no escape. Victims rode out the flood on roofs and in treetops. There were 180 deaths and $8 million in property loss. Still convinced of the value of the levees, voters in 1914 approved reconstruction bonds. The indebtedness was not retired until 1963, long after modern flood control methods made the area safe. (1978)

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