Thursday, September 14, 2017

STRANGE TALES FROM THE STORM. Pts. 5-6


Pt. 5

Speaking of “strange and wonderful” occurrences in the midst of a storm, hands down the most bizarre thing to which I was ever exposed was, well, I will get to it in a bit. At any rate, as with the previous story, the storm in question was none other than Hurricane Andrew, circa August 1992.

My late supervisor, Sergeant First Class Robert Hoehne, and I had been mobilized, along with 35,000 other active and reserve troops, to assist the citizens of Homestead, Cutler Ridge and Perrine, Florida; who had just experienced the 180 mph, Category 5 winds of one of two or three “hurricanes of the (20th) century.”

Sergeant Hoehne was an elementary teacher and I, a UPS man, in our “real lives.” But as members of the Florida Army National Guard we were subject to mobilization in the case of both state and national emergencies. (And this particular event represented all of the above).

The primary mission of our four man section, over the course of the first several weeks, was to guard a heavily damaged subdivision called “Country Walk.” There was nothing to learn, and nothing especially technical about our roles there.

We stood at the main entrance of the upscale community, and checked the ID’s of anyone who wished to enter. If the address on their driver’s licenses matched one of the streets in Country Walk, they were admitted; no questions asked. Otherwise, they were turned away. A couple of times a day Bob designated another team member to guard the gate, and he and I jumped into our jeep and drove through what was left of the place.

The $300,000 - $500,000 homes were in absolute shambles. As we drove along the vacant streets we noticed what seemed to be an over- abundance of plywood. There was simply too much of it, and we mused that perhaps after all this was over the state might revisit its building codes. (And indeed, it did).

Pt. 6


On one memorable day as I stood guard duty, I happened to look to my right and slightly behind me, and there, out sitting in a field in all its glory, was a vintage WWII C-47 “Gooney Bird” airplane. (I told you I would get to it).

I think I must have rubbed my eyes before speaking.

“Bob, (though military, we didn’t stand on formalities) what in the world is that aircraft doing in the field?”

To which my supervisor (and good friend) pointed, smiled broadly, and responded.

“You mean that airplane?”

An involuntary chuckle escaped my lips.

“Yes, that old Gooney Bird. You know, like in the ‘Sky King’ series.”

And with this my boss unraveled the momentary mystery.

“Well, believe it or not, Bill that old C-47 was in an aircraft museum about a mile from here when the hurricane came through, and it flew its last flight …without a pilot.”

(and)

“I’ve been told one of those embedded tornadoes in the hurricane picked it up, and set it down gently in that field; all without a pilot and without any damage.”

Of course, I was flabbergasted. I had never heard of, nor seen anything like it.

It is a rare thing for a storm of this nature to do anything remotely benevolent to people or property, but in this case the little airplane which flew its last flight without a pilot survived to be loved and enjoyed by future generations of museum goers.


by William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 67. Copyright pending

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