Storm of the Century

By Doug Geed

It was a non-stop, cross-Atlantic flight that headed right to Long Island -- and the results were absolutely devastating.
      I'm talking about the hurricane that was the worst storm ever to hit Long Island -- at least in modern times.
    It was Wednesday, September 21st, 1938. As Long Island gets ready to mark the 70th anniversary of the storm, tomorrow, Thursday, starting at 5:30 in the morning, we're airing a two-part series I put together that re-tells the story of this great storm from Long Islanders who survived it. We'll also show you rare home movies. A popular Greenport shop-keeper by the name of Sherwood Rouse took his 16 millimeter camera outside during the hurricane and recorded history. He has since passed away, but his son graciously shared the recordings with us.

       The '38 hurricane took everyone by surprise. Not only was it before the time when hurricanes had names, it was before there was any kind of public access to weather forecasting. As Beecher Halsey, an 86-year-old Westhampton resident put it, you just depended on the old-timers and whether their bones told you if it was going to rain.

       The hurricane took a common path -- starting off the west coast of Africa and making its way west. Check out this website provided by our Chief Meterologist Bill Korbel:

http://www2.sunysuffolk.edu/mandias/38hurricane/track.html

     It was a storm that moved very, very quickly. Remember, a hurricane is a storm that swirls counter-clockwise. Picture the hurricane like a big, swirling ball. The ball itself also moves. And this one moved quickly -- about 60 miles an hour.
     On Tuesday it was off the coast of Jacksonville, Florida. It moved rapidly along the east coast, curving slightly AWAY from the coast. It was expected to continue moving away and harmlessly go out to sea. But suddenly around the Maryland-Delaware area, it made a slight left turn. That took it right to Long Island.
      So within 24 hours or so, this powerful storm made its way from Jacksonville to Long Island. You can imagine the fury when it struck -- with Westhampton as its dead center.

      More than 50 people died on Long Island -- more than 700 throughout the northeast, as the hurricane continued to do major damage throughout New England. Most of those who died were on the barrier beach, by the ocean. By "barrier beach" we mean that relatively small sliver of sand that has the ocean on its south side and the bay on its north side. Long Beach is a barrier island -- Jones Beach -- Robert Moses Beach -- Fire Island. What happened is, the storm hit with such surprise and with such fury that any access from the barrier beach to the mainland of Long Island was cut off. People tried to row across the bay -- or float across while holding onto debris. The hurricane created more than a half dozen inlets -- where the ocean water washed right over the entire barrier island and met the bay water on the other side.

   Annie Ciacia (pronounced "Chy-chy) remembers the storm clouds moving in that morning and her friends expecting a bad rain storm. Now 95 years old, she remembers clear as day telling her friends "No, something's going to happen." They went into the house -- a tree crashed down on the porch. Later, the chimney on the roof collapsed.

     I've always loved history -- especially local history. And for those of you who have always found the subject boring in school and wondered why it was worth studying, this is a perfect example of how valuable it is. Spending just a little time with 95-year-old Annie and 86-year-old Beecher, I see their eyes light up. I see them as they were 70 years ago -- Beecher a 16-year-old high school student who ran home from school on that Wednesday when the hurricane approached so he could be with his family. And Annie -- a 25-year-old working at a rooming house in the North Fork community of New Suffolk. Her boyfriend trekked through the storm to make sure she was okay. (I imagine you can guess the rest of the story -- they were happily married for decades soon after.) The stories they have to tell are valuable lessons for us today.

    I think of the poor people of Galveston, Texas and what they're dealing with in the aftermath of Hurricane Ike. Two million people near the Texas coast lost electricity. Two MILLION. That would be like two-thirds of Nassau and Suffolk homeowners without power. Could you imagine the outrage, the impatience and frustration that would cause? People waited four hours to get gasoline for their cars. FOUR HOURS on a line for your local gas station. And while they were doing that, other members of their family were waiting on line just to get INTO a supermarket. And once inside, they were greeted by virtually empty shelves.

      Galveston, by the way, is a city on a barrier island -- the Gulf of Mexico on one side, the mainland of Texas across the bay on its other side. Sound familiar? It has a population of about 57-thousand. Long Beach, in Nassau County, is a city on a barrier island with a population of about 35-thousand. Another lesson to be learned.

    Yes it's true -- sometimes the media can overplay things. I've been in the news business for more than 25 years and it's just part of the territory. But wouldn't you much rather take that than have a major storm take you by surprise and devastate your home, your family and your community? Listen to the experts when a potential emergency could happen. And if you don't listen to them, then listen to the Long Islanders who were around during the '38 Hurricane. They only wish there were experts around back then that they could have listened to.

     Some more interesting links from Bill Korbel and me:

http://www2.sunysuffolk.edu/mandias/38hurricane/index.html

http://chl.wes.army.mil/shore/

http://www.suffolk.lib.ny.us/libraries/quog/hurricane/index.htm

http://american.redcross.org/site/PageServer?pagename=ggl_main&s_subsrc=DonateToRedCross&s_src=F7FWE001&gclid=CMWi7qXv4ZUCFQK_Ggod21ZUYQ