I am sure most people would agree that life is full of ups and downs. There are moments of happiness we cherish for a lifetime and times of trials we would rather forget. The difficulties of life can knock us down and leave us reaching out in desperation. These “storms” challenge our strength, often bringing fear and uncertainty. For some, those “storms” are literal forces of nature. Fourteen years ago, I came face-to-face with a powerful storm named Fran.
On September 5, 1996, around 8 p.m., Hurricane Fran slammed ashore near Wilmington, North Carolina, as a Category 3 storm packing winds of nearly 120 miles per hour. The storm spread its destruction across the eastern United States killing 27 people and causing over $3 billion in damages. After making landfall, Fran tracked up the Cape Fear River and turned north, the center passing almost directly over the Raleigh area. For the next ten hours, the storm battered North Carolina knocking down trees, causing power outages, and dumping heavy rain. Many people awoke the following morning to the sight of utter destruction.
I was eleven years old at the time Hurricane Fran made her grand appearance. I grew up in rural eastern North Carolina about 30 miles east of Raleigh. Weather reports had closely followed the storm ever since it first developed in the Atlantic. As the storm intensified and began to move in the direction of the U. S., fear and uncertainty filled those unfamiliar with the power of a tropical storm – those such as my family. In the first few days of September, reports were showing a direct landfall on the coast of North Carolina. My family and I had been through storms of various kinds, but had very little idea of how to prepare for a storm of such strength.
The day of September 5 was cloudy and windy with a few showers and storms, nothing unusual about that kind of weather in eastern North Carolina. Life was fairly typical – middle school for me, high school for my sister, work for my parents. By that afternoon, the skies had really begun to darken and take on an eery feel. My family sat around the television watching live news coverage from the coast as the storm came ashore just before 8 p.m. Our power had flickered several times throughout the evening as the winds increased and the rain beat against the windows. Around 8 p.m., we were overcome by darkness as the power flickered out for the final time.
Personal confession: I have always been afraid of the dark. As the power went out that evening, that fear was greatly multiplied. Between the force of the storm and the pitch-black darkness of night, there was very little that could be done to calm my nerves. Years later, I can still close my eyes and see those images as if they were yesterday. We were being confronted by a faceless monster with nothing left to do but pray for the peace of God.
(Image courtesy of NASA Images)
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