A Washington Post reporter drove more than 400 miles along the drought-stricken Mississippi River, from Memphis to Cairo, Ill. Here’s what he found.
A scorching summer has given way to a dusty and disquieting fall for those who depend on the river, with few signs of relief in sight. Drive through communities that line its banks, and you will encounter a mixture of faith, frustration, anxiety and acceptance — along with agreement that few can remember a time when the mighty river has been so weakened.
Waiting was risky, but then life along these banks always has been. Those who depend on it long ago learned to take the good with the bad, to have faith that better days lie ahead.Wickliffe, Ky. — ‘I can handle a flood’ Like so many others, Barnes has carried on through his share of river flooding. He also remembers past droughts, in 1980, 1988 and 2012. This bout is as rough as any he can recall.“I can handle a flood better than I can handle a drought. I think everyone on the river will tell you that,” he said. “It’s at a standstill right now.”“It’ll come and go,” Barnes said. “You keep plugging along. And have faith. And just pray that it’ll start raining.
Below, trucks heavy with soybeans from nearby farms continued to pull into the grain elevator complex. But Worsham has only so much room left to put the crops he buys from farmers these days.