Originally published June 4, 2015
Vaughans have lived in their house along the Blanco River in Paradise Valley for 40 years and never before had the river reached the home. On Sunday morning, Scott and Sarah found themselves stranded on the roof of their two-story bunkhouse with three friends, forced to make a daring escape while the raging river engulfed their home.
“We came home early from a party because the creeks were coming up and we had company over,” Scott Vaughan said. “We started watching TV and seeing the flash flood warnings, but we really didn’t have any idea what was coming.”
Around 11:30 p.m. the river had risen substantially. It was just three feet below the rock wall just 10 yards from their back door.
“That is where the floods have always peaked,” Vaughan said. “We thought we were going to be OK, but in the next five minutes, it was over the wall and on our deck.”
They quickly woke up the household and got everyone out. Another 40 yards from the river is the two-story bunkhouse.
“We thought we’d be safe back there,” he said.
Scott was able to save three of the four cars parked at the house. When he went back for the fourth, it was floating in the garage.
The family and friends went upstairs as the water quickly entered the bunk house, before the person staying there even had time to pack their bag. There was already three feet of water and their escape route was covered. They headed upstairs.
“There were eight steps visible, and that was kind of our gauge,” Vaughan said. “Within about 15 minutes, it was all the way up to the second story.”
The group made their way out onto the roof. Water completely surrounded the building, and neighbors standing on a nearby hill were yelling to them. They believed another surge was coming. The river may rise again.
“We called 9-1-1 and they said they would have helicopters out at daylight, but we weren’t real sure we would make it that long.”
Then Sarah Vaughan, who Scott said was the heroine of the situation, spotted something floating where a road used to be.
With the power out in the middle of the night, the only light was, literally, a penlight.
“It was almost spooky,” Vaughan said. “It was almost one of those acts of God. Here comes the kayak floating down the river.”
A quick decision had to be made. They agreed it was a risk they had to take.
“I handed Sarah my phone, and I jumped in and swam for it,” Vaughan said. “ But I had on heavy boots, and it was tough. I got it, and I started kicking it back. But the current was pulling me down. It pulled me just below the house.”
Tom Duemler, who was a friend from Austin that was staying with the Vaughans, reached out from the house.
“He reached way out and grabbed the tip of that boat and started pulling me in,” Vaughan said. “That’s when I knew I was safe.”
But there was still a problem. They were up the creek without a paddle. Inside the home, they grabbed a slat from underneath a bed. It would have to do.
With Scott sitting in the small kayak, one of the remaining five people laid across the front.
“We had one shot,” Vaughan said. “I was scared they were going to roll us over. I was screaming ‘Don’t try and paddle. Don’t lean over.’” One-by-one, they were ferried around the bunkhouse and to the hillside where neighbors were waiting to help pull them ashore.
After the water receded to four or five feet deep, they swam back to the bunkhouse where the two family dogs, Great Pyrenees, were waiting to swim back across.
In the end, the bunkhouse still stands, while their home will have to be torn down.
“The bunkhouse is still here, so we would have made it,” Vaughan said.
“But in the moment, we didn’t know what was coming.”
