Photo by Eric Keith / St. Joseph News-Press / Purchase this photo

Ryonee Curtis carries hamburger condiments past the foundation for Scott McCann’s new home at Big Lake Saturday afternoon. Mr. McCann bought the property a few days before last year’s flood. ‘I guess you have to put up with it if you want to be on the water,’ he said.

BIG LAKE, Mo. — The summer of 2007 never felt quite right.

Families from around the Midwest had kicked off their summers at Big Lake for decades. That changed in early May when a flood washed away traditional Memorial Day plans for many families.

Big Lake natives scooped mud out of basements when they could’ve been riding pontoon boats across Missouri’s largest oxbow lake. Weekend visitors and the tourist dollars never came.

Cole Lawson and his family had planned to rent a cabin at Big Lake State Park last year. Every year they pack up their bags and leave Beatrice, Neb., for somewhere with a shore, he said. Three years took ago they went to Lake of the Ozarks (too crowded). The next year the Lawsons decided on Grand Lake in Oklahoma (too much driving). Last year, they didn’t make it to Big Lake (too wet).

“The whole summer felt kind of ... off,” Mr. Lawson said. “We had to change all our plans at the last minute, and we realized pretty quick you aren’t going to find a room on a lake on Memorial Day weekend on two weeks notice. It ain’t happening.”

People who own lakefront property across from the park had more pressing problems than finding a new vacation spot.

Brian McCann bought a spot on the shoreline a few days before the flood. More than a year later, he finally got to spend a lazy Memorial Day weekend by the lake.

“I guess you have to put up with it if you want to be on the water,” Mr. McCann said.

On Sunday afternoon, a perfect May day gave an example of why the residents of Big Lake are willing to put up with the flood risk.

Lake-shy kids took a dip in the park’s swimming pool. Grills gave off an aroma of relaxation. Cars drove through the Scout Island area in search of a quiet place to wet a line, only to turn back at the end of the road. There was no more room.

“The kids don’t mind fishing from behind the cabins,” Mr. Lawson said. “It could be worse. Last year we were home in Nebraska.”

Business reporter Clinton Thomas can be reached at clintonthomas@npgco.com.