In what might sound like a plot pulled straight out of a Cohen Brothers movie, James Scott, a Missouri man, allegedly unleashed a 14,000-acre flood in 1993, not to make a political statement or to claim insurance money, but to ensure his wife couldn’t make it home—so he could party. Yes, you read that right. While most would just lock the door or pretend to be asleep, Scott supposedly went full-on Bond villain and decided to tamper with a levee.
The flood, one of the most catastrophic in U.S. history, wasn’t just a minor inconvenience. It led to the evacuation of thousands and caused an estimated $15 to $20 billion in damages. Yet, amidst the chaos and destruction, Scott’s alleged motive was bizarrely mundane: to enjoy some uninterrupted revelry and perhaps some good fishing.
When authorities started connecting the dots, Scott’s levee tampering tale turned from barroom anecdote to a full-blown criminal case. His defense? A shrug of the shoulders and an insistence that Mother Nature was the real culprit, not him. But the court wasn’t buying what he was selling, leading to a conviction that landed him a lengthy prison sentence.
Decades later, Scott maintains his innocence, suggesting the levee’s failure was just an act of an overzealous river, not a man with a penchant for parties. His story raises eyebrows and questions alike: How far would someone go for a good time? And can Mother Nature really be blamed for what seems like a plot lifted from a slapstick comedy?
As Scott sits in prison, reflecting on the flood that reshaped lives and landscapes, one can’t help but ponder the absurdity of it all. Is this a cautionary tale of taking party planning too far, or a bizarre testament to the lengths some will go for a little peace, quiet, and maybe a fish or two? Whatever the case, it’s a flood story that’s less Noah’s Ark and more a script waiting for Hollywood’s call.
