The walls are shaking almost to the breaking point, and you hear a high pitched wail that sounds like spectres shrieking. You look out of your window to see houses and trees floating in mid-air like leaves during Fall. Telephone poles and other debris hover effortlessly and then crash violently into each other.
This is how many first-hand experiences of a major hurricane sound. Many deem it as a traumatic experience, or at the very least one never forgets. And for those who were fortunate to leave while the storm hit, they were still deeply affected by the aftermath.
Many may remark: “Of course, all of this goes without saying. Damage, both physical and psychological, is a given in a natural disaster such as a major hurricane.”
Yet, with the exception of vague memories of Andrew, most college students have never experienced a major hurricane. The reality of this fact never really hit our conciousness until Hurricane Lily nearly arrived at 150 miles an hour.
Fortunately, Lily quickly dissapated from a number five to a number two storm once it made landfall. But for an instant we had that moment of awareness that comes during a major disaster, and are left with only a glimpse of what could have been.
Janis Nihart, 49 and currently living in Galliano has had a full glimpse of the destruction a major hurricane can cause. In the fall of 1965, she was in 7th grader at Golden Meadow High School. At the time she lived on the tiny island of Grand Isle.
Soon everyone was notified on the coming hurricane Betsy. Nihart recalls it vividly.
“We were sent home a little early on the bus that day. Riding over the Grand Isle bridge, I was listening to the song “Hang on, Sloopy” on the radio. As I was looking out the window, I saw a long black line across the sky. I don’t know if this was significant, but I never forgot it,” Nihart said.
They then went to her Aunt Dorcelia’s home behind the Masonic lodge in Galliano. The winds were so strong that the family became scared and fled into the Masonic lodge during the eye of the storm.
Meanwhile Nihart’ father stayed home and decided to brave the storm. However, he was eventually forced to leave. He put Janis’ chihuahua in a tub so it could survive in the 4 feet of water in the house. He then left to seek refuge in the nearby Catholic Church with others who did not want to leave Grand Isle.
“The priest let them in, told them goodnight, and went to sleep in his apartment attatched to the church. All throughout the night the windows and walls were shaking and the noise was so loud they could not hear themselves speak,” Nihart said.
“During the eye, they went out on the porch and saw houses and debris floating and knocking into each other. After the eye of the storm, they went back inside. He said no one spoke after that–they feared for their lives, but they all survived.”
After it was all over the damage ravaged Grand Isle. Nihart has distinct memories of the aftermath: almost every summer home wiped away, caskets broke out of graves and floated into the Caminada Bay.
“Every islander’s home was damaged, most of them losing all the contents, including family pictures, which I regret more than anything,” she said.
“We had no electricity for about 4 months. Our home had to be brought back to our lot and put on pilings this time. I can still smell the stench of the mud that filled the air in Grand Isle for so long. Everyone’s home had a thick blanket of mud.”
In the end, Betsy caused 6.5 billion dollars in damage and had a death toll of 75. At one point it reached category 4, and was an erratic storm in its trajectory.
And while we were spared the turmoil of a major hurricane this time around, there are still the memories of survivors like Nihart that make us realize what could have been and may happen once again.