Bert and Agnes and their friends in 1926

What Not to Do In a Hurricane

Sunday, September 18, 1926

It was a little after six a.m. when Agnes heard the wind and rain begin to slow. She shook Bert awake.

“Sweetheart, what is it? Can’t you sleep?” he asked drowsily.

“No, Bert, it’s almost morning. Wake up.”

Bert cracked one eye open. “It’s still dark out. It’s not morning.”

“I know it’s dark. It’s a hurricane. Remember, silly? And the windows are boarded up.”

“Then why are you waking me up? Didn’t we all agree we could sleep in today? No one’s going to be working in this weather.”

“But that’s just it, Bert. I think the storm is almost over.”

“What time is it?” Bert asked.

“It’s 6:15.”

“It can’t be over this soon. This thing is huge. We must be near the eye.” Bert sat up and finally paid attention to his wife. “You know what I’ve told you. It will look like everything is over, but it’s not. Don’t be fooled.”

“Well, how will we know if it’s the eye or the end of the storm?”

“We wait, honey; we just have to sit tight and wait.” Bert settled back down in bed and tried to pull Agnes down with him, clearly content to snuggle in bed with his wife.

Unfortunately, Agnes had other ideas.

“I’m going to just step out on the porch and see how things are in the neighborhood. I won’t get off the porch, I promise.”

Bert sighed and sat back up. He pushed back the covers and began to get dressed.

Agnes’s parents Sigmund and Mollie were already up and in the kitchen. With plywood on the windows, only a small amount of light leaked inside. The electricity had obviously gone out during the night because a kerosene hurricane lamp flickered on the table.

“Oh, I’m so glad you two are awake,” said Mollie. “I was just telling Dad that with the rain slowing down we need to go over and check on Helen.”

“Mama, Bert says it’s the eye of the storm and we need to stay put.”

“She’s right,” Bert said. “We’ll know in an hour or so that it’s over. We should wait until then.”

            “Listen to the boy, Mollie. He’s the only one here who’s been through more than one hurricane, and that one in July was a small one from all I’ve heard,” Sigmund told her.

“But the electricity is out,” Mollie insisted. “The phones are down. We don’t know anything. It’s only a five-minute walk, and I’m worried to death about Helen. I don’t trust Godfrey to have the sense he was born with.”

Bert and Sigmund looked at each other with resignation. They knew when they were beaten.

~~~

The pharmacy was only a few blocks away, but it took several more minutes than usual to get there because of all the debris strewn around the streets. As they got closer to the pharmacy, things got worse.

“I’m really getting worried about Helen,” Sigmund said. “I don’t like this at all.”

“Well, the good news is it’s getting lighter out, and the rain is letting up. Whether it’s the eye or not, that’s a good thing for us right now,” Bert said as they pushed past several cars that had blown onto the sidewalk, some of them on their sides or upside down.

As they turned onto Flagler Street, at first glance the damage didn’t seem as bad. Because it was all storefronts with apartments on the upper floors, there were no lawns or trees. But as they walked toward the drugstore they saw that many windows were broken, signs lay on the ground, or hung twisting in the wind, ready to fall on an unsuspecting person. The cars that had lined the street were now scattered around like a child’s wooden blocks. As they got to the store the rain stopped and the clouds suddenly cleared away. They could see the sun just starting to lighten the sky overhead. The front of the store was blocked by a couple of cars, pieces of signs, portions of walls and roofs, and other trash.

“Helen!” Sigmund called out, standing below the window he knew belonged to his daughter and her husband..

A moment later the sash was raised, and Helen put her head out. “Dad? Is that you? And Bert! We are so glad to see you!”

“Are you hurt?” Sigmund asked.

“No, our room is fine, but as you can see, we are kind of stuck in here.”

Godfrey came to the window. “Hi, Mr. Sawieja, Bert. Can you help us clear enough stuff away from the door to get out of here?”

“Godfrey, I’m not sure how much time we have,” called Bert. “This is probably the eye. The storm could start again in a few minutes.”

“Then you’d better start clearing a path to get in because you won’t have time to get back to your place,” he replied.