I hope I don’t ever hear the wind “scream” like that again.
Deadly Hurricane Helene came for a visit in the wee hours of Friday morning, Sept. 27.
We had seen the storm coming all week. We knew it was going to be bad, we just didn’t know how badly we underestimated the storm and its aftermath.
Mama and I discussed what we were going to do.
My house was newer and brick, but surrounded by pine trees 10-15 feet away on each side.
Mama inherited the home my Daddy grew up with. She said it had stood longer.
That settled it. I stayed with Mama in the house my Grandaddy and Grandma Deal built and completed in December, 1949. My Daddy, who had just turned eight, hauled bricks in his little red wagon as his contribution to the construction.
As late as 9 p.m., it was still balmy and the air was heavy and thick with humidity. We could see beams from the Harvest Moon piercing the darkness and swirling clouds above.
We watched the roundthe- clock coverage on The Weather Channel and the Savannah local television stations.
I kept looking for Jim Cantore to show up in my neighborhood. I’m suraround prised he didn’t.
The weather rapidly deteriorated. The power failed at 11:40 p.m. As I write this Tuesday morning, it has not been restored, even some 110 hours later.
We went to bed shortly after the power went out.
A little before 1 a.m., I was jarred awake by what I thought was someone screaming.
I soon realized it was the wind screaming around the corner of the house.
It would not stop for another four hours.
We fared well initially, but it was impossible to sleep with the noise of the wind and the sound of unseen missiles and projectiles hitting the side of the house and the roof.
Our first excitement came about 1:30 a.m.
Mama looked out the side door during a lull in the squalls to take a peak. As soon as she did, the wind cranked up again and she couldn't pull the screen door closed. We held on to it trying to find some way to attach it to something on the inside but couldn't. We finally gave up and let it go. We heard it bang flat against the side of the house. We figured it shattered but, were surprised to find it was intact after the storm. It is a genuine 'storm' door.
I lay back down. I was uneasy and anxious, but it was about to get worse.
About 2:40 a.m., we heard a sound like a tremendous clap of thunder or explosion. We knew something had happened, but couldn’t tell what in the darkness.
I already had been praying, but I prayed even harder after that. You see, I know the Lord Jesus is the stiller of the seas and the calmer of the storms.
Somehow, someway, I drifted off to sleep.
At first light, I stepped out into a yard littered with debris. The clouds were racing by, glimpses of moonlight peeked out as the blush of dawn appeared to the east. The wind was still a strong fetch from the southwest.
The light revealed roof damage at both houses and five trees blown up. Power lines were wrapped the tops of pine trees like spaghetti on a fork.
And, then, I saw one of our tractor sheds in the front yard. It had been in the back yard about 150 feet away. It had been flung over the house.
Daddy and my brother built it several years ago. My Daddy ran power to it and had a light fixture near the top beam.
The light bulb in the socket was still in place and unbroken.
Mama joined me surveying the scene.
The screaming had finally stopped.
And then, the yelling began.
It was a mockingbird couple in the azaleas, telling us all about the hellacious night they had just endured.
They squawked and jabbered and carried on the whole time we were out there.
I thought of my Grandma Deal. When she heard such news about a storm or trials and troubles in someones life, she would say “Onchew to listen! Lord, help!”
It’s a combination exclammation and prayer.
Turning to my newfound feathered friends, I said those words. They are fitting for everyone who survived Hurricane Helene.
“Onchew to listen! Lord, help.”
