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Posts Tagged ‘Hurricane Gloria’

Hurricane Irene — which hit the Boston area as a weakened, but still formidable Tropical Storm Irene — has moved out of this area leaving plenty of downed tree limbs, relatively minor flooding, and a lot of people who are holding Hurricane Parties to amuse themselves.  One can only hope that those folks are staying off the roads and refraining from drinking and driving, so that public safety officials don’t have to clean up DUI accidents as well as storm debris.

While some people are wondering what all the fuss was about, Ben and I were remembering the last storm to focus on the New England coast with real fury:  Hurricane Bob, which occurred twenty years ago, nearly to the day.  Bob made landfall on August 19 and continued into August 20, 1991.  We were living across town at the time, and our then-ten year old daughter, Emily, hunkered down with us while we did a family craft project by candlelight, listening occasionally to the battery-operated radio.  Later, Ben brought our camp stove out on the porch, and I cooked supper, which we ate with candles.  We all went to bed early (which we tend to do when camping – how much can you do when nightfall comes early?) and awoke the next morning to find the power back on.  While there was certainly tree damage, we felt that – like today – we had escaped the worst of it.

We were, at the time (as we have been today) more worried about our beloved Isles of Shoals and our friends who worked on Star Island.  The island manager at the time, Tony Codding (having evacuated all the conferees) had the genius idea of putting the iconic island historian, Fred McGill, on the radio telephone to answer the calls of the nervous parents of the summer workers (called Pelicans) who wanted to make sure their children were safe.  Star survived that blow, as we trust it will do this one, and late-summer conference center life will shortly resume on Star for those who seek a retreat and escape from the bustle of the ‘real’ world.

More than Hurricane Bob or Irene, though, I remember Hurricane Gloria.  Gloria, which occurred in September, 1985, made three landfalls, one of them in Connecticut, where I was living at the time.  I resided in Stony Creek, a hamlet of Branford, on the shoreline.  Stony Creek was one of those remarkable places…a town that felt like it had pulled off the Maine coast and plunked down on Long Island Sound.  Old-timers hung out on the docks, making disparaging remarks about the young, monied folk who moved into town.  Things moved slowly, and a nightly routine for me involved walking down to the dock, fishing pole in hand, to catch a few baby blues as darkness fell while catching up with the local gossip.

When Gloria hit, I was working part time for radio station WELI in New Haven, hosting an arts and entertainment show and participating as a reporter in special coverage events from time to time.  I was asked to go out and report on the storm from Stony Creek – an interesting place for ‘color’ coverage, given its shoreline location and low-lying areas.  Standing outside with my portable broadcast unit (remember, there were no cell phones at the time) I heard a huge roar of wind and then a crack behind me.  I turned to see an enormous tree limb land about eighteen inches from where I stood.  That did it:  I talked to the studio producer and said that I thought it better to go inside to the volunteer fire station, which was doubling as an emergency shelter, rather than further risk life and limb with any more live reports.

Gloria did more than $900 million in damage, and plenty of it was in Connecticut.  Power went out in Stony Creek for five days and our radio station offered non-stop coverage on food safety and spoilage, what stores were open for supplies, gas stations with power in the area, and more.  Talk radio can be an important lifeline in such situations, and I was glad to have the chance to contribute to such an effort – although stunned to have nearly been killed in the storm due to my own stupidity.  Hurricane Gloria, along with the late October, 1991 no-name storm on which the book “The Perfect Storm” was based, will always stand out in my mind as the strongest hurricanes I’ve weathered.

I’ve always loved the scene in “The Wizard of Oz” where Dorothy ‘sees’ her life passing before her eyes as the tornado hits, including Miss Gulch pedaling by on her bicycle.  During the height of Hurricane Irene, as with other such storms, I looked to the sky, watching birds struggling to take flight against the sheer force of nature, marveling at what nature can unleash to chasten us.  I view it as Mother Nature issuing yet another reminder about who’s really in charge.

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