The Riverwalk Casino in Vicksburg was one of the last gambling establishments operating on the Mississippi during these historic floods, and the management lined the drive with insistent signs. "Still open," they said, "Still happy." Another sign, an electric one, bragged about the new decor. Workers had stuck pink plastic flamingos on the 4-foot sand wall. The river had swallowed up the lawn and trees and was lapping at the parking lot. But a few people were still placing bets inside.
After all, Americans have been taking their chances with the Mississippi for centuries.
It has been more than 250 years since European settlers began building earthen embankments, or levees, on the Mississippi. It has been more than 80 years since America established a flood control system on the river that was supposed to prevent future catastrophes. It has been 40 years since Congress moved to compel local authorities to relocate people from flood-prone areas, or protect them through insurance. And it has been more than 15 years since Bill Clinton ordered a White House study to determine what could be done to reduce flood damage.
So why has this year's flooding of the Mississippi brought so much hardship to so many people?
After Illinois, Kentucky, Arkansas and Tennessee, the swollen river is expected to reach its high water mark in southern Louisiana this week before emptying in the Gulf of Mexico.
The authorities say they are confident their preparations will keep New Orleans above water. But small communities in Louisiana will face their worst flooding over the next week, and the waters are likely to stay until mid-June.
Seen one way, the floods are an act of nature, beyond human control -- and America got off relatively lightly. Despite extensive property damage, with predictions that more than a million acres of land would go underwater, only four deaths due to flooding have been recorded so far, in Arkansas and Mississippi. Industries, population centres and shipping in the Mississippi have been protected. Unlike in Hurricane Katrina, the Army Corps of Engineers, which is in charge of flood control, has had no levee failures.
Looked at another way, the flooding was entirely predictable. Damage to homes and fields in the Mississippi's way should have been avoidable. For all the effort over the years put into controlling the Mississippi, for many individuals -- and even entire towns -- there is only the illusion of safety.
John Scroggins, 79, thought he knew all there was to know about floods. He spent 32 years as a civilian technician in the Army Corps of Engineers fighting floods. When he moved to the Magnolia Road are of Vicksburg in 1960, he knew it was a flood-prone area, but thought the possibility was relatively remote.
His home, south of the city, is in what is known as a 100-year flood area. That does not mean it will flood only once every 100 years, but that there is a 1 percent chance of flooding each year.
That is more than it seems at first. A house in a 100-year flood area has a one in four chance of getting flooded in the life of a standard 30-year mortgage.
Scroggins decided that was an acceptable risk. He also believed he could outwit the Mississippi by building a foot higher than recorded flood levels. The extra foot would save him from having to buy flood insurance, he said, which he thought would be two or three times the cost of a homeowners' policy.
"The flood has never, never been here before, even in 1927," which is the worst flood on record, he said. "It was always down there in the weeds. This is the grand-daddy of all floods, right up there beside Noah's. If it hadn't been for that we would never have seen water here. It's always been down yonder."
Scroggins found himself paddling around to his next-door neighbour's house in a flat-bottomed boat. His own property remains above water for now -- but only because of a Herculean effort.
Scroggins brought in 23 truckloads of sand and built a 5ft wall around it. Now he and his wife are virtual prisoners. Most of the neighbours have left. Scroggins worries that his wife, Wanda, 77, will break a hip if she clambers over the barrier. And if his homemade levee breaks, it will all be a wasted effort.
On the opposite side of town, Shirley Burns watched her rented house in the Kings area fill up with people. Like other areas north of Vicksburg, Kings is mainly African-American, low-lying and flood-prone. Mira Jean Gordon arrived after the water in her house reached knee-level and the city turned the electricity off. Loretta Bunch turned up to report that the Waterville Estates, built to replace the old flood-prone housing, was taking on water. The basketball court and playground were inundated.
Burns stayed glued to the large flatscreen TV. The waters had risen above the windows on two rows of houses on the other side of the tracks. Burns's house sat a few inches higher. "It hasn't affected us. It's not in our yard yet," she said. She would pack up and leave when the time came. But where to? "It's not like you can just pick up and go. There are expenses involved and there is no storage facility available anyway," she said.
Floods are to be expected, she said, at least in these low-lying areas. "It's a recurring thing. It skipped last year, but it's been flooding for years."
There is complacency and resignation. Flood experts argue that America's flood protection standards are lax compared with those in other countries. Authorities have hesitated to relocate people to safer ground, or to enforce laws that compel local authorities to provide flood protection and require homeowners to get flood insurance.
"We have been very good at letting people continue to live in harm's way," said George Galloway, who was commander of the Army Corps at Vicksburg in the 1970s. "But how much longer can we continue to do that since we know with climate change we are going to have more floods than in the past?"
In the 1990s, Galloway led a White House study into improving flood protection. It concluded that most people living in flood areas -- up to 7 million across the country -- did not fully understand the risks they faced.
Most do not insure their homes or belongings against floods. Some might not even realise they are living in a flood-prone area. Others might think they are safe because they are living behind a levee, even though the standards for levees are relatively loose.
"We have deceived ourselves into believing we are safe from floods, and that is not the case," said Galloway.