RIVERDALE — Norman Farr heard it, a rumble like a large truck passing by his Riverdale home. But this rumble was different. So he went to investigate.

Farr's neighbor to the north, Phillip Laterza, had been looking out his front window while on the phone with his sister. The horses in the pasture across the street were running in strange tight circles.

Floyd Baham was in a rush. One of his employees had spotted a leak in the canal, and Baham hurried to the canal headworks at the mouth of Weber Canyon to shut off the flow.

Even if he had shut it off in time, nearly seven miles of water still sat in the concrete-lined channel just below the boundary of Hill Air Force Base and above the cities of South Weber and Riverdale.

As Laterza chatted on the phone while getting ready for church, water appeared to crest over the hill in front of his home.

The strangeness of the sight turned to immediate concern as the hillside gave way and a torrent of mud and water tore through the pasture toward his home.

He called 911.

When Farr looked outside, he saw the same sight and grabbed his video camera. Footage he shot of the river was replayed repeatedly on local news channels and aptly shows the power of rushing water.

By the time Baham made it back to Riverdale from Weber Canyon, he saw the devastation: a gaping hole in the 100-plus-year-old canal and its muddy brown contents surrounding homes on 1345 West and creeping down Ritter Drive on its way to Golden Spike Park.

Fast forward 10 years, and the Pinebrook subdivision still sits below the canal owned by the Weber and Davis Counties Canal Co. All of the homes are still there, and so are most of the homeowners. Without seeing photos of the disaster, it's hard to imagine.

On Saturday, neighbors will commemorate the 10th anniversary of the July 11, 1999, flood. It was easily the worst disaster in Riverdale's history, but one full of miracles.

Nobody died. Nobody was directly injured in the flood. Of the 75 homes affected by the 450,000 cubic yards of sediment, which filled basements nearly to the ceiling with mud, not a single home was condemned.

And that, neighbors say, is thanks to the thousands of volunteers who came from as far away as Cache and Utah counties to help with relief.

About 2,000 people a day showed up to shovel mud from basements, clean personal belongings, run equipment and offer moral support.

"It could have been worse," said Connie Cragun, who lives just south of Farr.

Ben Jones, now of Henefer, was Riverdale's mayor at the time. He said he knew residents couldn't wait for federal or state help, because once mud solidifies, it can cause more damage.