My Story By Patricia McGarvey 1978
It was another rainy afternoon at Toccoa Falls. Most of us—students, faculty, and staff—know what it feels like to winter at the college. Days can be cloudy and there is always an abundance of rain. But the few days leading up to the flood were different. There was something about the unrelenting rainfall that caused many of us to think about the dam and wonder if everything would be okay. A friend and myself had been scheduled to spend the night with Aunt Mary and Uncle Paul. Their home was located on what we called Residence Row. Later, I discovered
January 9, 2008
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