Monday, September 22, 2014

Not As Safe As We Think

This post is in remembrance of Hurricane Janet which struck the island of Barbados on September 22, 1955.

It was dark and gloomy.  No one would believe it was just two o’clock in the afternoon.  Those of us who knew just waited and hoped.  The little ones had no idea of what was pending.  They hadn’t the slightest hint of what to expect of the monster to the northeast of the island.  The meteorologists had predicted a certain hit.  There was no way that we were going to escape this time.

Forty-two years had passed since our country had been ravaged by a fierce hurricane.  It had spent some two hours with us and when it had gone, one could not believe that it had left so much carnage in its wake.  Whole roofs had been deposited hundreds of metres from their sites and sheets of galvanize were seen everywhere.  Many were the homeless and the destitute.  Power lines were down and there was no running water.  There was even loss of life.  Flood waters had accounted for some while several others had been fatally injured by collapsing buildings.  Hence those of us who knew, just prayed and hoped that this one would do like all of the other hurricanes since then.

Each one had miraculously passed us by.  It was as if some unseen hand had simply steered them away from us.  The result was a complacent, cocky pride that stated we would never be struck again.  Some even argued that Barbados was now outside the hurricane path.  The knowledgeable and sensible knew differently.  Like the ‘wise man’ who built his house upon the rock, they, while not being pessimistic, were still prepared for any eventuality.

The afternoon grew darker with each passing hour.  The frolic and the lawlessness began to decrease.  Gradually everyone began to be more observant.  After all, it was four o’clock and outside appeared more like six o’clock.  Suddenly we began to feel the first winds of hurricane Huron.  The coconut trees started their dance.  They bent and swayed with the wind in a perfect simulation of limbo dancers as the galvanize paling tuned in with an incessant staccato. The electric wires also added their whistling sounds to the disharmonic orchestration continuously activated by these gale force winds. The worst was yet to come.

                             

The winds increased.  It was as though some huge monster was outside puffing away at his greatest.  The children began to cry.  Hilda screamed at her loudest.  “The roof is going!  The roof is going!”  There was a ripping sound.  Suddenly a part of the roof went sailing through the air.  To make matters worst, it started to rain.  Since there was now no covering over the front section of the house, you could well imagine the state that the contents were in.  Everything was just simply soaked.

                                


We had added a stone section to the house.  It comprised a dining room and kitchen as well as two bedrooms.  We determined that this wall area was the safest place in the house.  As a result we confined our activity to this part of the house.  At this time the wind was howling at its worst and there were streaks of lightning that seemed so close that we could hear the click of it.  The claps of thunder which followed were so loud that the very walls of the house shook.  We cuddled together and prayed that at the end of this nightmare we would be safe and unharmed.  Four year old Tony inquired with tears in his eyes, “Are we all going to die?”  I assured him with as much conviction as I could that I did not think so.


The wind died down and the rain abated.  Relief spread over their faces but it was short lived as I announced that this calm was only the eye of the hurricane and the winds would soon commence blowing from the other direction.  This hurricane was only half done.  The howling winds started up again.  I tried to peep outside to see if I could ascertain what the damage was like but it was extremely dark.  I could not even see the house opposite.  This was truly a nightmare of the greatest proportions.  Suddenly there was a flash of lightning.  For that split second all around lit up as if the sun had come out in its brilliance.  What I saw then literally caused me to become motionless for what appeared to be minutes. It drove so much dread in me that I have not quite gotten over the experience yet, nor do I expect to be over it in a long while to come.  In that split second of brilliance I saw the spot on which my neighbours' house was located.  All I saw was the spot.  I wondered how it was possible for an entire house to disappear just like that.  Even more puzzling to me was the state of the aged couple who lived there and who had refused to go to a shelter.  I began to shiver.  I asked myself, “When will it all end?”   What a terrible ordeal for them to have gone through!  One moment they were safe in their home, the next, there was no trace of either them or their home.  This experience was nothing that any sane person would wish for.  I was sure then, that those who were wishing and hoping for such an experience were now regretting even thinking of such a wish.  Such was the terror visited upon us by this destructive hurricane, Huron. 

                       

I moved away from the taped pane of glass.  Outside the wind was as furious as ever and the rain kept up a constant staccato on the roof.  As loud as this unwelcomed din was, it could not shut out the voice in my head.  These thoughts continued to reiterate, “What terrible tragedy could have befallen my friendly neighbours, the Merritts?"  My thoughts were suddenly interrupted when the house began to shake.  I could not understand how the wind could shake these walls that were reinforced with steel and concrete.  This was the wonder of wonders.  The walls continued to shake.  They were about to collapse.   I began to scream and the more I screamed, as if in mockery, the more the walls shook.  They started to cave in on my family and me.  I shouted, “No! No!  Dear God, don’t let this happen to us!”

“Lionel! Lionel!  Wake up!  Wake up!  You’ve been having a bad dream.  My, look how you are perspiring.”  I jumped up and rubbed my eyes.  Even then I could not believe that it was only a dream.  I hugged my wife and three children.  It felt so good to know that we were all alive and well and that this experience was only a dream.  I looked out the window and there stood the Merritt’s house!  Yes! yes!  It was only a dream but a very real possibility!


                                                       Stewart Russell © 1997

No comments:

Post a Comment