From: rhb@ucs.usl.edu (Bird Rendell H.)
Subject: Hurricane Andrew
Organization: Univ. of Southwestern La., Lafayette
Date: Fri, 4 Sep 1992 21:24:48 GMT

This article has no motss relevance, and it has lots of verb-shifts
(which make it hard to read), but I have had enough inquiries to
justify posting.

Diary of My Hurricane Andrew Experiences



July '92: There was an article in the local weekly rag that mentioned
the fact that it had been thirty years since the last severe hurricane
hit Louisiana's shores. Personally, I considered it 'bad gris-gris'
to even mention the subject.

August 21: I was visiting my cousin who lives in Sunnyvale (California).
We were waiting for his wife to get off from work. The news came on the 
T.V. The weather report came on. There was no mention of a hurricane
in the Atlantic. Indeed, there was very little mention of WEATHER of any kind. 
The entire weather-broadcast took less than two minutes; (for contrast,
here in Louisiana, the news broadcasts are divided into three equal sections:
local news events, sports, and weather).

August 23: I was on my way back from California and I
flew into Houston International Airport. I had a two hour lay-over, 
so I decided to make a few phone calls. As I was dialing the phone, I heard 
the man at the next phone complaining that he couldn't fly into Miami 
because of an approaching hurricane. WOW, I think to myself, this
one really crept upon me. I had heard nothing.

August 24: Hurricane Andrew is far out in the waters of the Gulf of Mexico.
All of Louisiana braces for the possible approach, except me. I go to the
stores to watch the mad hordes of people buying every container of bottled-
water on the shelves. Every battery in the state is gone by 7pm. I, of course,
go to a Twilight Zone party (where you eat pizza and watch T.Z. until you
are sick of one or the other).

August 25: At work, there is only one topic: who is staying to face the
fury, and who is leaving for higher ground. My boss decides to take
her family and split. The nearest motel room she can find is in
Arkadelphia Arkansas (almost a five hour drive away). I decide it is 
too late to try to batten-the-hatches. I will simply secure my house
as best as I can, and then head for my parent's house in Breaux Bridge,
which is about 10 miles east of Lafayette. I use ALL of my four-inch medicinal
tape (read: bondage tape) on my windows. I unplug EVERYTHING. Then I
leave.

August 26 (midnight) : Exhausted, bored, tired of waiting, I fall
asleep. The storm makes landfall at Morgan City Louisiana, which is 50 miles
away almost directly south of Breaux Bridge, and begins heading north.
My father and I decide that our cars will be better protected if they
are under the awning (rather than just parked in the driveway).

August 26 (2am): The first real winds begin. The rain has been falling
for several hours, but there has been little indication that it is all
about to get MUCH worse. It is enough to wake me up, but not enough
to make me get out of bed. Storms of this intensity are commonplace
in Louisiana.

August 26 (4am): The winds begin to blow at near hurricane strength
(75 miles per hour) continuously. The aluminum awning, which stretches
from my parents garage to the house, begins to catch the wind. It flexes,
rising and falling, and each time, it becomes weaker. The entire house
shakes with the stronger gusts. No one is sleeping. The power goes out.

August 26 (6am): Andrew is in New Iberia (30 miles due south), heading
due north. The awning has pulled free from its moorings. Only the
posts which support it are holding it down. Still, the weakest section
continues to flex. My father and I make plans to run outside 
during the eye of the storm and try to re-fasten it. Unbeknownst
to my either of us, the storm changes directions. It begins heading
due east. This means we will get no respite from the winds for the
next three hours. I stand in the picture window, which is in the
lee of the wind, watching the trees bend nearly parallel to the
ground.

August 26 (8am): The awning finally breaks into two pieces. The smaller
section falls onto my father's truck. We decide we now have no choice
but to get out into the storm. The wind is blowing at 90 mph with
gusts over 120mph. My father holds up the awning while I drive the truck 
out from under it. We scurry inside looking like drowned rats. It quickly
becomes apparent that we will have to go outside again. The two pieces
of the awning are threatening to beat the roof off of the house. We have
to yank them down. I lacerate my hands on the bent and twisted aluminum.
No big deal; just a couple of little cuts.

The phone rings!  It is my uncle calling to ask if we are allright.
I tell him that we are in the middle of the %$#@! storm. We both
agree that Ma Bell is one bodacious broad   ;-)    I hold the phone
into the wind so that he can hear the storm.

August 26 (10am): The winds are dying down. My father and I go outside
to make sure everything is ok. Everything is fine. Then we go inside,
eat a little soup, and go to sleep.

August 26 (1pm): I decide to try to get home and see if my house has
blown away or, more likely, flooded. When I get home, I find almost
no damage. Indeed, the power is already back on. I go into the house
to check my ancient alarm clock. The power was off for a total of 45 minutes!
I have lost three (count'em three) shingles. Later, I find out that
the winds never got about 60 MPH on this side of town, and only
three inches of rain fell during the entire storm.

This past spring, Lafayette had a sudden storm which dumped 12 inches of
rain in three hours. My house came frighteningly close to flooding. Andrew
didn't even rain enough to flood my driveway; much less my house!

August 29 (8am): It is business-as-usual at my place of employment,
although three of the main buildings still don't have power. 

August 29 (2pm): Electricity begins to flow to my parent's house again.

September 2 : The upper echelons announce that student/faculty/staff
will have to work Saturdays to make-up for the time lost during the
hurricane. A near riot ensues. I, of course, am one of the people
leading the riot.  ;-)    ;-)     ;-)


And that's the whole story to date,
Rendell
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