Posted tagged ‘hurricane carol’

“The first rule of hurricane coverage is that every broadcast must begin with palm trees bending in the wind.”

August 25, 2017

Some mornings all the elements converge just right and the most gorgeous day dawns. Today is one of those mornings. The breeze is from the north, and I could smell the ocean when I was out with Gracie. Both of us stayed on the deck, not wanting to come inside. The smell of the salt water flooded my mind’s eye with familiar images. I saw the ocean with its tiny whitecaps hitting the sand. I saw the grasses atop the dunes dancing, blown by the slight breeze.

The morning air is cool today. Sharp sunlight glints through the trees hanging over the deck and leaves shadows of armlike branches. The small round mirrors hanging from the pine branches send a reflection of white circles bouncing around the side yard. The birds fly in and out, and I was glad I filled the feeders yesterday.

Today in all its glory needs to be savored.

I’m watching the news about Hurricane Harvey. I know what it’s like to dread the coming wind, rain and high water. I remember Hurricane Bob. It left trees across roads, wires hanging from split telephone poles and branches all over streets and yards. I lost a fir tree in my front yard, my second Christmas tree, but I still felt lucky because the tree fell away from the house. Stores were closed. I was without electricity for days. I cooked all of the freezer meat on the grill trying to save it. I drove all over to find ice. I couldn’t believe the damage I saw. It took a long while for the clean-up and for everything to get back to normal.

On August 25th 1954, two amazing events occurred. Hurricane Carol developed near the Bahamas and started its way toward New England. It would reach the coast days later, at the end of the month. Carol was devastating and deadly. Cape Cod was evacuated. More than 10,000 homes across New England were damaged including 1,545 that were completely destroyed. 3,000 boats and 3,500 automobiles were wrecked. Even Boston wasn’t spared. The wind sheared off the steeple of the Old North Church. Though I was only seven, I have memories of this storm. The giant, old elm tree across from my house went down and fell on the street making the road impassable. My father brought my brother and me outside during the eye of the hurricane to see the tree, and we climbed among the branches. I remember how still it was and how quiet.

The second amazing event was my sister Moe was born. Today she turns 63. She was under 5 pounds at birth so the hospital kept her until she gained more weight. That was the practice back then. She was still in the hospital when we lost electricity so we glad she was. By the time she came home, our house was back to normal.

My sister and Carol are forever joined in my memory.  That’s not to say they have anything in common except both were born on the same day.

August 26, 2011

“Name the season’s first hurricane Zelda and fool Mother Nature into calling it a year.”

September 2, 2010

The heat wave continues. An early morning breeze which made the deck pleasant has disappeared. Although this room is the coolest in the house, I’ve already started sweating.

I’m watching the weather as I’m keeping an eye on Earl. The Cape and Islands are on a hurricane watch. We are 24-36 hours out, but Earl’s track seems to be getting closer. I took down all the candles from the trees and will clear more of the deck later. Also, I have to buy a few provisions as the larder is a bit empty. The good news is the weekend weather will be a delight, compliments of Earl.

I remember only one hurricane from when I was a kid, and it was a huge one. I was seven when hurricane Carol hit. Even then I found raging storms mesmerizing, and I remember standing at the picture window in the living room watching the tremendous wind blow the trees nearly to the ground. The rain fell sideways sometimes one way then the other. The house shook. The sound of the wind was tremendous. My mother kept telling me to stay away from the windows, but I just couldn’t. It was like I could feel the wind all through my body.

We heard the loudest crack, ran to the side window and saw the huge oak tree from across the street had broken in half. The top part, with all the branches, had fallen across the road. When the eye of the hurricane arrived, my dad took us so we could check out the tree. There was this eerie stillness outside, and I swear the world was a different color. I remember climbing through the branches and seeing the split trunk. It had been the biggest and oldest tree on the street.

The next day my dad drove us to the ocean so we could see the waves. They were still huge, even tremendous. They washed up and over the seawalls to the street which was covered in water. I wanted to feel the spray from the waves, but my dad wouldn’t stop. We were just one car in a line of cars slowly working  its way up the street as everyone gawked at the power of the wind even a day after the hurricane.