'The Makings of Real Disasters'

For eleven days the Welches were as isolated as if they had been marooned in Antarctica. The blizzard that swept over their home 35 miles south of Buffalo left drifts that were 15 ft. high. When five-year-old Craig ran a fever of 105DEG, getting a doctor was out of the question. Elizabeth Welch brought down her son's temperature by simply packing him in what was closest at hand: snow. Last week the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers finally rescued the family of four by breaking through the sea of white with a roar of snowblowers and earthmovers. "My God, I'm out!" cried Mrs. Welch, and she rejoined the world.

Throughout the Buffalo area and in the cold belt that stretched taut across the Midwest, Americans were digging themselves out and counting their blessings as the Great Winter of '77 relaxed its clutch. In New York, Ohio and New Jersey, plants rumbled back into action and hundreds of thousands of men and women returned to work. Chicago temperatures rose to a comparatively balmy 45DEG, after shivering below freezing for 43 straight days. In their euphoria, some citizens doffed their overcoats and earmuffs, as though spring were just around the corner.

It was not. Looking ahead 30 days, the National Weather Service predicted continuing cold for about four-fifths of the nation--from the East Coast to a line roughly bisecting the Plains states and including a giant thumb jutting up from Texas as far as Idaho. The natural-gas shortage was still at crisis point. The economy was still shaken (see ENERGY and ECONOMY & BUSINESS). A further threat: surging floods if the snow and ice melt too quickly.

The National Weather Service reports that the "flood potential" is high in an area covering western New York and Pennsylvania and extending into most of West Virginia, parts of Ohio and the northeastern tip of Kentucky. Much of that region lies beneath a blanket of snow that is six inches or more thick. Says Herb Lieb, a spokesman for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration: "It's like a great, frigid lake, ready to run during a sudden thaw. We could have the makings of some real flood disasters."

As the weather gradually warmed last week, the first worrisome runoffs began flowing into the ice-clogged streams, raising the threat of flooding in some areas. In Washington, federal officials were already working on plans to provide shelter, food and medical care for stricken communities that could be hit by floods if a sudden thaw turned the runoffs into torrents.

While one part of the U.S. worried about getting too much water, the West still suffered from an enduring and debilitating drought. The cruelest paradox of this capricious winter is the fact that the vast region had been praying for blizzards to fill the reservoirs in the spring. But Department of Agriculture surveys are finding less snow now than at any other midwinter in the past 40 years--20% or less of normal depths. In Washington, 24 skiers made light of the situation by donning formal attire and helicoptering to a 5,000-ft. level, where they dined al fresco, placing their table over a bare avalanche chute that would ordinarily have been covered by at least 80 inches of snow. Colorado's Governor Richard Lamm was already pondering how his state could allocate water to such steady customers as California, Arizona, New Mexico and Wyoming. Said he: "Not even Solomon could divide fairly and equally the amount of water that is going to have to be shared this spring."

Farm losses in California are already estimated at $1 billion, and that figure might easily double. The state, which grows 40% of the nation's fresh fruits and vegetables, is estimating a 10% to 12% drop in this year's agricultural production, which would mean some rise in prices. The fertile San Joaquin Valley--which depends heavily on imported water--could have its quota cut by 75%. Farmers will have to tap expensive underground supplies.

Topsy Turvy. To break the drought, the Department of Agriculture estimates that the mountain ranges of the West would have to get about twice their normal snowfall from now until May--an unlikely prospect. What the West needs, in short, is exactly what Buffalo and the Midwest have been getting much too much of during this long, frustrating and topsy-turvy winter.

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