STRANGE TALES FROM THE STORM. Pts. 7-9

Pt. 7

We just experienced what could have easily been the worst storm in world history; given certain variables of speed and direction. Weathermen have told us that Hurricane Irma was the most powerful storm to ever inhabit the Atlantic Basin, as its sustained winds reached 185 mph, with 225 mph in gusts. That’s like the maximum speed of an Indy car. Nothing, I mean nothing, neither man, nor beast, nor building is designed to withstand such an onslaught.

Of course, we know what Hurricane Irma did to some of the islands of the Caribbean, and I can tell you it wasn’t pretty. Barbuda was absolutely devastated, and the U.S. Virgin Islands and Key West were badly mauled. Thankfully, at this writing the storm is blamed for the loss of only one life in that part of the world. (Perhaps as many as 10-15 died on the U.S. mainland).

However, had the Category 5 storm continued on its projected track, i.e. the east coast of Florida, and not lost a couple of degrees of power, the loss of life and the financial costs incurred would have been an absolute catastrophe. My subjective hypothesis is that if and when a storm of this magnitude marches up the east coast of Florida, Georgia and the Carolinas the economic losses could conceivably approach $1,000,000,000,000 dollars. (That’s 1 Trillion dollars)!

Hurricane Irma displayed a couple of very “strange and wonderful” behaviors in the Tampa Bay/Central Florida area; one of which is rare, and one of which I have never seen manifested, nor even knew existed.

The City of Tampa boasts a beautiful four lane highway which runs along Tampa Bay for a distance of perhaps five miles; beginning at their business district and its high rises, and ending at MacDill Air Force Base; (where I served near the conclusion of the Vietnam War).

Pt. 8

This particular stretch of highway is fittingly referred to as “Bayshore Boulevard,” and sports a handsome retaining wall and ornamental balustrade along its ocean side. And since I lived and worked nearby I often walked along the bayside sidewalk in the wee hours of the night.

On one particular evening, I happened up on what appeared to be a (drum roll) body wrapped in a neoprene shroud, and lying below the balustrade; just inches from where the bay was lapping up against the retaining wall. Well, needless to say having discovered what I thought was a corpse, I was a bit tentative about my next step.

As “Mrs. Fairfax” exclaimed in the Victorian novel, “Jane Eyre,”

“What to do? What to do?”

As it fell together, I walked down the six or eight steps to one of dozens of landings along the sidewalk which bordered Bayshore Boulevard, stepped up to the body, and bumped it with my right foot.

And suddenly what I had concluded to be a dead man…spoke.

“Wha, wha, what’s happening?”

Well, as you might imagine I explained myself with,

“I thought you were, well, dead.”

(and)

“I’m very sorry, mister.”

(and)

(as you might imagine) I quickly exited the area.

But in the scheme of things, in terms of my story, the foregoing little incident is neither here, nor there.

For after all, we’re engaged with the “strange and wonderful things” which a storm is capable of visiting upon us.

Pt. 9

As I recall, my daughter, Jaci, called my attention to the phenomenon.

Tampa Bay, (you know, the Tampa Bay along which Bayshore Boulevard has been constructed) had, as a result of the impact of Hurricane Irma, receded, and was just barely visible on the horizon. And since it seemed good to a few foolhardy souls, (not realizing that what goes out is quite capable of coming back in) they made their way down the short staircases to which I have previously alluded, and proceeded to walk along the muddy bay bottom; some of whom ended up a great distance from the place from whence they had begun their somewhat perilous trek.

I have long since moved away from this area, or to be fair I might have replicated the actions of those whom I have just described. However, I have seen the videos and photographs, and I could not help but be reminded of the Biblical story in which the Jewish people made their way out of Egypt, and crossed the Red Sea on dry ground; God having parted the waters before them.

My daughter mused that very much like the tsunami’s of the world, the waters of Tampa Bay might suddenly return and inundate not only those hardy souls who dared to walk its muddy bottom, but the surrounding neighborhoods, as well. And though I thought it inadvisable to do as these amateur marine biologists had chosen to do, and though I recognized the remote possibility that unforeseen results were in the offing, I encouraged Jaci that the potential for disaster was almost nil, and there seemed little doubt that the ad-lib explorers in the mud of the bay would, as surely as they went out, return in like manner.

And most thankfully for the sake of life and limb of these who went out, and the emotional sensibilities of those who love them, I can tell you this proved to be the ultimate result.


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

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