Published: July 10, 2007 11:42 pm      

Faces of the Flood: ‘We would have been dead’

Latest in a series on the 1977 Johnstown Flood



For Pam Rayha Russell, the 1977 Johnstown Flood was literally a near-death experience.

She remembers feeling warm and seeing a bright light before she was pulled by her long hair from the rushing waters of the broken Laurel Run Dam above Tanneryville.

“It’s creepy, but I remember holding my dog,” she said. “I remember things getting cold and black, then I saw a light.

“I believe I was near death, and I’ve had a different outlook on life since.”

Russell is the daughter of Bill and Aileen Rayha. She was 16 and getting ready for her junior year in high school when the flood hit.

Now she lives in James Creek, near Raystown Lake. A mother of two teenage sons, Russell works for Bedford County Head Start as a classroom aide at the Saxton Liberty Elementary School.

On the night of July 19, 1977, her dad was working the 3 to 11 p.m. shift at a steel mill and her sister, Cindy, was working at Burger King.

“We lived 400 feet from (Laurel Run) that ran through Tanneryville,” she said. “It was raining hard, and my mother was starting to get panicky.”

By 12:30 a.m., the floodwaters were halfway up the basement steps. People in the neighborhood were talking about the possibility that the Laurel Run Dam might collapse.

She said several people stopped at the Rayha house, urging Pam, her mother and sister Kimmy to flee. They stayed, planted at the house by concerns for her father and sister, who had failed to come home.

“I thought, ‘That dam’s not going anywhere,’ ” Russell said.

‘I get chills’

At about 3 a.m., the dam burst, sending more than 100 million gallons of water down toward Tanneryville.

Russell remembers being dressed in shorts and a summer top, and gathering up her old Alice in Wonderland watch and $15 in cash, and fleeing the ranch-style house. They took with them a large mixed-breed dog – carried by Russell – and a poodle as they waded into waist-high water.

Within minutes, the home’s outside walls had landed in a tree 40 feet away.

“Five more minutes and we would have been dead,” she said.

After leaving the house, one of the first things they encountered was a car, floating in the middle of the street with its lights on and water over the hood.

The people inside couldn’t get out, Russell recalled.

It was the last thought she had before she was hit by a fast-moving railroad tie and sucked into a storm drain, where she got stuck.

“I get chills when I talk about this,” she said. “I remember my mother screaming, and I was still holding onto the dog’s collar.”

For some time, Russell was completely submerged, held tight in the drain.

“I was really stuck in that drain, and my mother literally pulled me out by my hair,” she said. “My clothes were literally torn off me. It cut my bra in half and everything.”

Russell, her mother and sister, treading deep water, made their way to her boyfriend’s house, where no one was home, and eventually ended up at the home of Priscilla Stump about a block away.

Brian Rager, a Tribune-Democrat delivery boy, greeted them with word that everyone thought they were dead.

She recalled his words: “Your house is gone. Nothing is left but the cement floor.”

‘My Dad’s voice’

By morning, as the floodwaters subsided, the badly injured Russell stayed at the Stump home while her mother and sister went out to survey heavily damaged Tanneryville, and to search for her father and sister.

As Russell waited, eager for news, a passer-by sent her into a panic with word that her father was thought to have died of a heart attack.

But before she had time to process the information, she heard a familiar voice calling her name and realized Bill Rayha had survived and found a way to get to her.

“I heard my Dad’s voice calling ‘Pammy Jo.’ He came up a trail in back of the houses,” she said. “He held me, he hugged me and he cried.”

Her sister Cindy also was soon back with the family.

Badly cut by the storm drain, Russell needed medical care for her damaged legs and many wounds, which quickly became infected.

“The next day was a daze for me,” she said. “There was no communication with the outside, and no one knew what happened.”

She was given a pair of men’s underwear, a shirt and a pair of shorts to wear. Russell was eventually flown from the Tanneryville area on an Army Reserve helicopter, which carried her to a command center near Value City in Richland.

There, in a throng of people, Russell was spotted by her dentist. He took her to his home, where his wife saw that she got a shower, hot soup and milk.

Russell also stayed briefly with her aunt, Rosy Campanella, who lived in Geistown.

It was three days after the flood until she received medical help.

She was taken by helicopter to Memorial Medical Center. It was while in the air that she got her first look at the devastated community.

“I saw what was left and I just cried,” she said.

Doctors told Russell she should expect to walk with a limp, but that did not happen.

However, she still bears the scars of the ordeal – on her face and legs.

“It makes shaving my legs quite an experience,” she said.

Other scars are deeper.

“When there is lightning, thunder and heavy rain, I can’t sleep,” she said. “I used to be a really good swimmer, and I still have the form. But as soon as I put my face and ears in the water, I freak.”