The second of a series describing a 500 mile circuit by air of the flooded Ohio river valley Sunday morning as the Ohio flood reaches a crest between Aurora and Madison. This column as was the first, is written as the plane flies better than 100 miles per hour over Indiana, Ohio and Kentucky.

Sunday, 9:15 a.m.
Flooded Aurora, below, has suffered the worst damage so far observed. Imagine a town the size of Warsaw with the business section divided by the courthouse. The east half is under water up to the top of the store awnings. The main portion of the commercial area of this unfortunate city seems to be located in a hollow. It is leveled now with water, which is probably 12 feet deep. We must be very near the actual crest of this flood at this time.

Sunday, 9:20 a.m.
Once again we are pushing on downstream, marveling at the power of the water below. The river is out of its banks at many points, but we can also see where miles of levees are holding in strategic places. This is rugged, hilly country. We have dropped down to about 1,500 feet above the maelstrom below. Ugly hill-tops reach upward 800 to 1,000 feet on both sides of the river, are possibly two miles apart.

Between Aurora and Rising Sun, the river is twice its usual sprawling width. We can easily determine the original bed of the Ohio, clearly marked by a thin line of trees. They look like a single row of corn, missed by a careless picker.

Sunday, 9:30 a.m.
here is an oddity for you: we are now flying over Warsaw, Kentucky. Right at this point, the river, though out of its banks, is between tight, steep hills where it can do little damage.

Oh, man, I can see trouble ahead. Here comes Carrelton, where the Kentucky river flows into the Ohio. Farmlands for miles around here have been inundated. Tall hills to the west of Carrelton have confined the river on that side, pushing the angry, reddish water into the little town. The one main business street is under water and a power-boat is chugging smack down the middle of the street. It looks like an army duck. I have just had a closer look at it through the binoculars, and it is not a duck, just a motor boat with a funny square nose. The water level in this town is halfway up the front windows of the stores. A cash register on a counter would just be under water. As we leave Carrelton, Bob is admiring a purple flowering bush which covers the hilltops here. We wonder what it is?

Sunday, 9:40 a.m.
We are over Madison, Indiana, and discussing whether to start north. Something has gone haywire with our gasoline supply, which is rapidly disappearing. I wouldn't want to live within the first two blocks along the river here. The water now has crept up through the first block and has reached the alley of the second water-front block. The buildings affected are mostly residential types.

There is a big bridge below, that doesn't reach dry anymore. Milton, Kentucky, across the river from Madison, is completely under water. It is a village the size of Burket and not a structure is on dry land, though the water is not so deep. Up to the bottom of the lower story windows-knee-deep in the living room, maybe.

We better get out of here and head for Freeman Field at Seymour for gas. Something is wrong here. We should have plenty.

Sunday, 10:20 a.m.
Up and away from Seymour. Camp Atterbury and the Atterbury airbase are in view. Good thing we stopped back there at Freeman Field. This plane has been newly painted. The vents in the wing tanks were painted shut. When gasoline was pumped from one tank to another, air couldn't get out of the receiving tank, so the gasoline backed-up and was pushed out of the first tank. Gallons of the expensive stuff were wasted, pouring out on the wing and being whisked away in the prop-wash. Darn!

We are nearing Indianapolis. Let's radio for wind information. At 4,500 feet we can again find a tailwind, the operator says. We'll go up and catch a free ride for some extra miles per hour. The wind is picking up, blowing fairly hard. Indianapolis is passing by to our left. That town always looks like a big old wagon-wheel with the nice symmetrical rim busted off. It's hazy and we can't see the other side of the city.

Sunday, 11 a.m.
We are making time. Our tip from Indianapolis radio was good. Kokomo has just zipped past. Bunker Hill just south of Peru, is a sight. We count 65 small airplanes on the parking ramp. Bill Renshaw and his Flying Farmers are enjoying a swimming part down there today. We are tempted to stop and join them ..tempted, but we don't.

Sunday, 11:30 a.m.
I honestly hate to see this end, but lake Manitou is on our nose and we are coming down for an approach to the Rochester airport. It is Still a nice day and fortune has smiled upon us throughout the trip. We have traveled some 500 miles Bob Hogue and I figure. We have been aloft a total of four hours and forty-five minutes. That will cost each of us $19.00 Will check on that later. It's pretty gusty now and we are making a big wide airline approach to the runway or field, flying in all the way. No gliding today.

It has been a wonderful trip and I'm glad you could go with us. for your information, if we have figured right, rental on this plane is going to be $38, including gas and everything for 500 miles of travel. It was certainly worth it. See what I mean--flying is not so expensive.

Warsaw Daily Times Wed. Apr. 21, 1948