“It rushed one hundred years ago.  It will rush next week.” – Amy Ludwig VanDerWater, This Creek (2019)  

I arrived in Schwenksville in late 2007, seeking respite from the hustle and bustle of metropolitan life in New York, Los Angeles, and Philadelphia, all cities I previously lived in. The rustic landscape of Schwenksville provided a much-needed change of pace, finally affording me the tranquility I had long yearned for.

Yet, similar to numerous residents, my tenure in Schwenksville has been marked by the recurrent challenge of floods.  In fact, I have witnessed four of the worst since record-keeping began in 1914.  Last week, the region experienced two consecutive days of substantial rainfall, causing the Perkiomen Creek, which borders the small town, to overflow its banks.  It served as a stark reminder of Mother Nature’s formidable power and her proclivity for demonstrating just how strong she can be.

The history of the region dates back to the Lenni-Lenape, long before the arrival of William Penn and subsequent European settlers.  These early inhabitants recognized the potential of the creek’s abundant waters.  Records reveal that by the conclusion of the 18th century, more mills operated along Perkiomen Creek than on any other waterway in the entire state.  The water not only sustained life but also fueled industry and growth.  

Originating in Hereford Township, southwest of Allentown, the Perkiomen Creek meanders for nearly 38 miles before converging with the Schuylkill River, about two miles downstream from Audubon.  Along its scenic route lie historical landmarks such as Valley Forge National Historical Park and Pennypacker Mills.  The area also boasts several parks, including Green Lane Park and Evansburg State Park, plus the popular Perkiomen Trail, which follows the former path of the Reading Railroad.

Despite its natural beauty, flooding persists as a perennial challenge in Schwenksville.  Since the early 1900s, the United States Geological Survey (USGS) has maintained gauging stations on the Perkiomen Creek, recording flood stages at various junctions along its course.  Communities like Graterford, Collegeville, Lower Frederick and Schwenksville, my immediate interest, have long grappled with fluctuating water levels, with certain areas being particularly prone to inundation.

The undeniable capability of nature to safeguard itself is evident. This notion conjures in my cinephile mind Jeff Goldblum’s iconic character in Jurassic Park, who famously mused on the capricious power of nature.  Throughout history, religious texts like the Bible, particularly in Genesis and Job, have contemplated the essence of nature.  Even English philosopher Thomas Hobbes, drawing inspiration from Job in his seminal work Leviathan, reflected on nature as “the art whereby God hath made and governs the world.”

The devastating impact of severe weather events, such as Hurricane Ida, underscores Schwenksville’s vulnerability to flooding.  FEMA deemed Ida a once-in-500-year event when it struck the region on September 1, 2021.  The Perkiomen Creek gauge at Graterford rose from 1.39 feet to 20.62 feet within hours, with floodwaters reaching a staggering 70,000 cubic feet or half a million gallons per second.  Tragically, the storm claimed several lives, including that of a 70-year-old Schwenksville man.  Extensive damage took months to repair; my street, Game Farm Road, was closed for over thirty days, and several homes, including the historic landmark Old Mill House on Plank Road, were lost.

The creek coursing through Schwenksville flows ceaselessly, as it has done for centuries.  To be a resident here means embracing its rhythm, adapting to its bubbling murmurs or ferocious roars.  To live here entails harmonizing with its timeless flow, discovering solace and inspiration within its perpetual embrace.  And there, within, is the beauty.

Historic Crests of Perkiomen Creek

24.23 ft on 9/2/2021 (Hurricane Ida)

19.32 ft on 8/5/2020 (Hurricane Isaias)

18.26 ft on 7/09/1935

18.20 ft on 8/28/2011 (Hurricane Irene)

17.08 ft on 6/22/1972 (Hurricane Agnes)

16.65 ft on 8/23/1933

16.59 ft on 9/16/1999 (Hurricane Floyd)

16.45 ft on 1/19/1996 (Tropical Storm Fran)

16.20 ft on 5/01/2014

16.20 ft on 6/02/1946