After completing my book, The Brady's Bend Flood of 1980, Tragedy in Western Pennsylvania, many others reached out to share their memories of 1980 Brady's Bend flood:
Missy and Bill Furl, August 7, 2025
My husband and I just made it across the bridge that night. Queenstown road two turns up the road was a car sitting with the head lights on with the road gone and a raging flood coming at us with a tree floating. We turned around. At that time the water was 6 inches deep. Custer house was still there, and the water was up to our head lights and kept getting deeper. Bill couldn’t see so he had the window down and a van driving toward the bend sprayed us. Later we heard it was the Robinson’s van. I have seen some pictures on Facebook. It’s something that you never forget. People have often asked about the water along the road when we have warnings. I don’t worry unless it’s up over the blue gas lines that run along the creek.
After we made it across East Brady bridge, we went to a pay phone to call my sister in law's husband to let him know that the road was gone in Queenstown as he drove a coal truck and used that road.
We went back to the bridge and watched all this stuff being swept away. The outlet of the creek into the river was widening and we saw the grassy area of someone’s camp site with a fifth wheel camper lift up and slide into the river spin around and go under the bridge and float away. By the light of the next morning, we saw mud and debris everywhere.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gina Rajchel, August 6, 2025
This book is filled with memories and stories from that unforgettable summer. Here’s what I remember most…
It was the summer of 1980. I was seven years old, and just like every other kid, I was getting ready for back-to-school shopping—not realizing I’d never set foot in my elementary school as a school again.
I grew up in Roseville, just across from Blue Row, and I was about to start 2nd grade at Brady’s Bend Elementary. The day the flood hit, my family was visiting our cousins in Kaylor. My dad, Ralph, was at work at Witco, and my mom, Betty, was keeping an eye on the weather like she always did. When the rain went from steady to a total downpour, my mom decided it was time to pack up and head home. My brother didn’t want to leave, so he stayed behind with our cousin Mark, and we brought cousin Carol back with us for the night.
We made our way through the Bend and up the steep, winding road to Roseville, rain pouring down the whole way. Even as a kid, I could tell this wasn’t your average storm—something just felt heavy. That night, the phone started ringing with worried calls from family and neighbors as word spread about what was happening below.
I can still picture standing out on our deck, listening to the sound of the rushing water far below us. For those who don’t know, Roseville Road climbs straight up the hillside, twisting as it goes. Even from way up there, the roar of the flood was unreal.
I remember my dad calling to say he was going to try to make it home—thank God he did. And I remember hearing about my pregnant cousin Monica, who had to be pulled from her car when it flooded. So many stories from that night, but honestly, it’s the days and weeks that followed that really stuck with me.
The next morning, we walked down through the Bend and saw the devastation up close—the smell of mud, piles of debris everywhere, people’s lives turned upside down overnight. My mom spent days at St. Patrick’s Church, scrubbing pews and serving food to anyone who needed it. She’s even pictured in the book on page 107, standing outside the church.
With Brady’s Bend Elementary knocked off its foundation, it was months before we could go back to school. When classes finally started, we were sent to Sugarcreek School instead. I still remember the long lines of traffic as the cleanup started, waiting for the flagger to let each side go through. Our whole community came together—mourning the losses, sharing what we had, and doing the hard work of rebuilding.
I was only seven, and I didn’t see the raging water up close, but I heard it, smelled it, and felt the aftermath in every way. I remember heartbreak and loss, but also so much courage and neighbors helping neighbors. Ever since then, too much rain always makes me a little nervous—it’s just one of those things that stays with you.
The flood of 1980 shaped so many of us who grew up in Brady’s Bend. Even now, reading about it brings all those memories right back—the sounds, the sights, and the strength of a community that came together when it mattered most.
Huge thank you to Lisa Olszak Zumstein for capturing so much of this history for us to pass down to future generations. And thank you to everyone who shared their stories and relived those tough memories so we can remember that fateful night and the resilience that followed.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Carla Daniel, July 10, 2025
I had my 1st boat ride when the flood happened I was 6 weeks old.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Matt Steiner, June 18, 2025
I remember that Thursday. It rained and rained. We (my sister Shelley, and I) were staying at dad's in Brady's Bend. I was 13, she was 11. Dad was living with grandma and grandpa in their newly purchased home. It had a big stretch of land, and was along the road route 68, that winded through the western Pennsylvania hills, and sat across from Seybert's Garage and fill-up gas station. They pumped your gas and cleaned your windows.
The property was two lots down from the T in the road at the intersection of Rt 68, and Kittanning Hollow Rd, at Pezzutti's bar and store.
The geography of this intersection, down to the other end of my grandparents property proved to be integral in the destruction and the death toll; the creek ( Sugarcreek), the artery of which the horrific, powerful surge ran through, ran right along the hillside and acted as the border of the back yards of several homes down through the valley, and then crossed under 68 at the end of my grandparents, Nick and Jennie Steiner's property. My friend T- Turtle ( Tom Robinson) lost his parents right at that bridge, stuck in their car in rising flood waters, when the deadly surge rolled through, it was later learned.
I remember the rain, since it wasn't a nice summer day, and summer vacation was about over, grandma decided the three of us, her and Shelley and I would scrub and wax the entire basement floor. It was an all-day undertaking. It looked beautiful.
I spent the early evening out on the large porch / deck watching the creek rise.
Grandpa took the 3 of us to bingo in town at East Brady firehall.
Scary stories were flying by bingo. BB is closed, the bridge is closed, grandpa waded to car to come to get us. I remember water like streams down Brady streets. Thursday night was like a movie. What was left in Brady's Bend.
The early Friday morning walk up through Brady's Bend was a nightmare, the stench, the devastating, the loss, the roads bridges gone.
I remember finally making the final turn of the 2-mile walk to finally see our house. I remember grandma's cries. The entire back half was gone, it was all gone, and the basement that WAS left was nothing but mud. It was ALL GONE.
All that cleaning and waxing and organizing of my dad's baseball card collection ( today's value estimated at $3,000,000), gone. Pittsburgh Pirates and Steelers memorabilia and autographs gone, turned to mud.
Nine human souls turned to angels.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Desiree Stimac, June 17, 2025
Mostly I won't forget having to carry brother Carl up our stairs to the second floor. I don't remember who, Dad, Joe, and who else, not sure.... along with his respirator. Mr. Tack reminded me that he was transported to Sugarcreek Rest afterward.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mine was the shock of the destruction. Riding the bus from Cowansville to EBHS really opened a farm kid's eyes!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Brad Jordan, June 15, 2025
Hard to believe it's been 45 years since that night. I remember it just like yesterday. I was only 10 at the night of the flood. My mom, dad, myself and 2 younger brothers resided across from Seybert's Sunoco all our lives. That night, I remember being in bed asleep when mom came in a woke Jeff (younger brother) and I as we shared bunk beds. My youngest brother Nicholas was only 1 at the time. I remember dad being in the basement picking up stuff from the basement floor so it wouldn't get wet. All of a sudden, I seen dad run up the steps as flood waters started pouring into the basement. Found out later a large railroad tie punched through the basement door. We all left the house to go my grandma and grandpa's (Sonny the barber and Lydia) as it was a little higher ground. When we got there a very short time later, we went into grandpa's barber shop where we could look out across SR 68 into "Millionaire Row". I watched an older pickup truck floating down behind "Millionaire Row" then all the garages and their rooftops behind those houses, being swept away and float down the creek. I also remember my dad and Harry Bortmas wading across already flooded SR 68 to help several residents of Millionaire Row. The next day, we went back home and found an upside down maroon/burgundy Chevy Blazer (owned by Dave and Brenda Bly) in our backyard. I also saw a green Chevelle, which I think was owned by a family member of the author, upside down in the creek behind our house. I helped dad clean the inches of mud from the basement and help carry out stuff from the basement that was damaged. One of the things that I remember most was the chest freezer that was taken out of the basement was all the spoiled food inside. Young and dumb, I opened up the lid to the freezer only to be hit by a smell that I will never forget. I can also remember going to St Patrick's church for a warm meal and never forget how good the warm bowl of chili they had. I can also remember a few days later, we took a ride through the "Bend" and I saw Carl Stimac's blue van in the creek down by the, at the time, Bradys Bend Elementary school.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From Bonnie Olcus to Lisa Olszak Zumstein, June 1, 2025
Hester (Leona) as we knew her was like a second mom to me. Her husband, Cecil or Pete, we called him, was my cousin. I spent a lot of time at their house when I was growing up. [Their son] Gilbert was the same age as me and [their son] Paul was two years younger. Gilbert and I graduated together in 1951. All of the immediate family has been gone for a long time.
I am the only cousin left in the Crissman family.
I will be 92 on July 23 [2025] and John [my husband] 91 on July 31.
I will never forget the night of the flood. The Sugar Creek Fire siren blew and blew. John and [our son] Ryan, members of the fire company, left the house a little while later. John brought Mae Ritchey and Mrs. Toderich to our house. They spent the night with me and then relatives came and got them the next day. I couldn’t believe the damage when I got to go down [to Brady’s Bend].
Betty Robinson [who died in the flood] was Betty Ellen Lias and lived next door to us when she was growing up. Such a pretty girl. I suppose you know where the Memorial Stone is. There was a store and a gas station run by Harvey Harroll. I could remember walking from my home there to buy candy.
I have so many fond memories of growing up in Brady’s Bend.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Ward King
Sent: Monday, June 9, 2025 8:07 AM
To: Lisa Olszak Zumstein
Subject: Re: The Brady's Bend Flood of 1980: Tragedy in Western Pennsylvania - Arcadia Publishing
Good morning Lisa,
... I was not living in EB [East Brady] at that time in my life when the flood hit. But my sister Sandy King Crawford and my brother Rocky were living in the Bend.
We all have our stories about that day. My father Dean had his car quit running on the bridge just before his brother Don's home. He was attempting to get to Sandy's home. Mr. Martin the store owner nearby convinced my dad to leave the car and come over to his store to wait out the storm. The car ended up about a mile downstream. My dad was lucky. Others in the Bend unfortunately were not.
Years after that event (maybe 10), the small church in Brady's Bend had a Saturday Men's Breakfast to remember the tragedy. I attended that event with my dad and brother Rocky and many other relatives and community members. One of the members presented a slide show of the destruction. Many of the men spoke of their own experiences during the morning. It was quite a moving experience. Your book will do the same.
Thanks,
Ward