I was seriously scared because I remembered Hurricane Allen of 1980 which had just barely brushed past us on it's way to Cuba. Hurricane Allen - it was supposed to be only the edge of it passing over the western end of the island. Right! It dumped part of the beach into one the North Coast Hotel's ballroom - a good 300 feet away from the shoreline. I was listening.

We had choir practice that day and what I remember most about that Sunday was how oppressively HOT it was. And not a breeze or wind or breath of air was stirring. Oh... it was ominous! You could just know that all hell was about to pop loose.

After an all-day practice, I came home and helped my parents "batten" down (i.e. to secure all light and easily displaceable objects so they wouldn't blow away). Mum was ensuring that we would have drinking water and water to wash hands and flush toilet and such small amenities. (hear the sarcasm?) Dad and I had equally menial tasks: tie down the metal awning so that it wouldn't blow away; pick off as many of the fruit on the trees as possible to minimize the number of flying missiles; place tape over all the windows that were likely to shatter if broken by flying debris; move the veranda furniture inside where it would be safe from the wind and rain... you know... all that stuff!

I remember looking out to the West, while I helped tie down the awning, and thinking that the sunset was extra BEAUTIFUL today. Yeh! Right!"Ah soh it always be before the storm lick", my parents and grandmother informed me. In Ja, the most beautiful sunsets signify STORM COMING. They made sure to tell me this piece of good news.

By midnight the storm had begun. Rain, wind tearing through the trees in the yard... basically getting scarier and scarier because you hear what's outside and you KNOW it's only gonna get worse!

The Real McCoy

We stood at our windows (which are slightly sheltered) and watched roofs, satellite dishes, coconuts, breadfruits, zinc sheets and other debris fly past. I remember when the next door neighbour's back veranda roof took off for parts unknown. I remember thinking: "Wow! Looks like when you peel a banana!" and on the heels of that "Yup, Moore! You've finally lost it!"

The most interesting part of the day was the passing of the eye... now, I don't know if you, my dear readers, have EVER experienced a hurricane; BUT - the eye is the most bizarre of the whole experience. After the storm has raged for an hour or more (Gilbert's first wave lasted approximately 3 hours), the skies get blue and clear, the sun shines, the air is breezy if not calm and the air is fresh - just like after a summer rain - BEAUTIFUL! However, you remember what I said before about the "Beautiful Sunsets"? Well, the eye is just as deceptive. For up to an hour, the weather turns beautiful - perfect beach weather. THEN - BOOM! The storm comes back with a vengeance - like it wasn't even here before - like what came before the eye was chicken feed... like all that was REALLY just a summer rain! Man! What a WAKE-UP CALL.

Even though it didn't stop raining continuously for another 2 days, the storm actually finished by the evening of the 11th. After 24 hours, Gilbert had passed on his way. What were the statistics? Maximum sustained winds of 100+ mph and gusts up to 200 mph! Yeah! Hurricane Gilbert was one VICIOUS mother!

Aftermath

I remember my father venturing outside a few times - to the despair of both myself and my mother as even though the storm had basically passed, there was still a lot of rain and some wind. Not anything like during the storm, but dangerous enough to be concerned at his apparent lack of personal safety. Nothing happened to him - except for getting thoroughly wet.

A friend came to visit me on Thursday morning. He told us that his roof had left them totally without any means of support. Gone off with the charm of the storm. Their house was totalled; and the family of 6 was living in the downstairs portion of the house. Oh - did I mention that there was one bedroom on the ground floor? And that the living room and dining room had been flooded properly - especially the sunken and carpeted living room.

We both left to go visit my boyfriend at the time and to generally drive around and take in some of the damage.

Dear readers, I want to tell you that my brain never retained the images of the path of destruction. I vaguely remember houses without roofs; trees lying in the roads and on top of utility poles; debris all over the roads; water EVERYWHERE; utility poles downed; people walking around - dazed, looking stupid, trying to salvage what they could out of the debris.

I remember some people never got electricity until months afterward. I remember the excitement when we got ours - not a month after the passing of Gilbert. I remember the chorus of yells that rose out of the neighbourhood - because, one month without electricity is a NIGHTMARE. Imagine, a cold drink was like gold and ice was a phenomenon.

I remember that we got water back after the week and that some people's water supply has never been the same since.

I remember that people said it was the worse hurricane to ever hit the country. And I also remember my grandmother being so traumatized that she developed shingles (a relation to chicken pox, brought on by stress - and very uncomfortable for the sufferer) despite living through a number of other storms - including Hurricane Charlie of the 1950s. I remember that I myself was never the same person again.

Most startlingly, I realize how much of an impact this thing must have had seeing as though almost a whole 10 years later, I can still remember it like it was last week and shiver like it was yesterday.

Epilogue

Time is measured in respect to Gilbert:
"Remember when I was ....", says one.
"When was that? Before or after Gilbert?" says the other.

Agriculture still trying to recover. People still trying to recover. And the economy - of course, the problems with the economy have very little if anything to do with Hurricane Gilbert. Even though people do say that "nothing has ever been the same again since Gilbert".

Every year, people start to get paranoid when hurricane season comes round. Two years ago, we had a threat from Hurricane Marco which looked like it was heading in our direction. People panicking all over the place - buying tinned goods, candles, kerosene, dry goods, electric generators, all sorts of water storage containers. The total opposite to the reaction to the news of Gilbert's path. And I want to tell you, when the meteorologists started talking about Gilbert with straight faces and solemn voices, he was a lot closer to us than Marco.

I don't know if I'll ever forget the experience. Just writing some of it here has been a good purging activity. At least you, Dear Reader, may be able to read and imagine the hell that Hurricane Gilbert wrought on our little piece of rock here in the Caribbean Sea. This little "story" of mine may even give someone else the chance to learn. Whatever, I've enjoyed constructing it for your enjoyment (or horror - whichever way you choose to look at it)

Peace And Love!