Page 4 - Florida Sentinel 9-15-17

Letter To The Editor
I Remember Donna A Recollection by Bishop A. J. Richardson
I remember Donna! She came out of West Africa (below Cape Verde) with a vengeance; gath- ered herself into a major tropical storm and evolved into hurricane strength and size. She eventually paid a vicious visit to Florida, leaving in the wake of her passing scores of deaths (most of these casualties in Puerto Rico and Cuba).
It was 57 years ago. The Tampa Times and Tribune posted photos of her "face." My impression was that "she" was angry. One picture still haunts me; her "eye" carried an an- thropomorphic realness. It seemed reasonable that the storm would have a name. Like now, it was the peak of the hurricane sea- son.
Donna was my first -- my first experience with this part of nature's volatility. The year was 1960. I recall the anxious look on the face of my mother, and the troubled gaze in my father's eyes. I
do not recall that the Tampa or Hillsborough County governments is- sued a mandate about a curfew or procedures for evacuating. We lived only a few blocks from the Hillsborough River in West Tampa, not far from either the Fortune Street or the Cass Street Bridges. I am certain there must have been the fear of flooding as the river cas- caded its curvaceous way to empty into Tampa Bay.
We would have been among the families who could not evacuate, our precarious financial cir- cumstance determined that we could not leave. Even so, my father be- lieved that we could not stay. Our home, at 908 Arch Street, was shelter for the Richardson house- hold, but little more.
My mother sug- gested that we seek shel- ter with her brother and his family, Charles (Cute) and Rosemary Walker. Not long after his retire- ment from the US Marine
Corps, they built a home at the corner of Walnut and Albany Streets. They wel- comed the Richardsons that night in September as shelter from the storm. We spent the night chat- ting, napping and snack- ing as the rains pounded on the house as if knock- ing on the door, and the howling winds hurriedly brushed through West Tampa. Our first cousins, Charlie and Victoria, did their best to keep my brother, Herbert, and me entertained. I needed to hear the wisdom of the elders as they communi- cated their concerns, fears, faith, insights and theology about stormy weather.
At daybreak, we emerged with a collective 'thank-you' on our lips and marched into the sun- light of a bright Sunday morning. We pressed our way to our home, antici- pating that there wouldn't be much left, and assumed that extensive repairs would be required to
make it habitable again. Much to our surprise and delight, perhaps only a few tree limbs were down. Not one piece of the tin roof was missing. Our house in the 'hood' had taken the fury, standing proudly in the Florida sunshine. She seemed a bit disappointed that we didn't trust her enough to protect us overnight. Of course, that thought stemmed only from my youthful imagination; my parents made the wise de- cision.
Donna didn't quit until she pressed her furious way to the state of Maine, leaving a trail of destruc- tion and a tab of more than $900 million (in 1960 dollars), claiming 364 lives. So ferocious was she that the National Weather Service retired her name, not to be used again for an Atlantic hur- ricane.
Irma was big and wide, powerful and destructive. To be sure, it was existen- tial, it was our reality Sat- urday night. We got to see things that most of us had not seen before, like an empty Tampa Bay. Such phenomena are eerily at- tractive, and deadly dan- gerous when the water returns from wherever it went. But, I remember Donna.
I learned several les- sons from Donna.
1. It's really okay to seek better circumstances, to search for higher ground. "High and dry" trumps "wet, cold, scared and hungry."
2. It's really okay to seek the company of oth- ers, even when they are sharing the same storm.
3. Storms, even the most powerful (personal or physical) will pass over. The old-timers had it right, "Trouble don't last always." AME Bishop, E. C. Hatcher, would sing, and so we AMEs learned to sing, "The Storm is Passing Over, Hallelujah!" I still get joy trying to sing it, because I know it is true. Without even a cer- tificate in the study of me- teorology, our mothers and fathers knew intu- itively that, "It’s a mighty bad wind that don't change sometimes."
Irma was upon us; we survived it. Most of us have emerged stronger and wiser for the experi- ence. The preacher in me requires me to caution that “another storm is coming.” Therefore, "Stay prayed up! Keep the faith! Be encouraged by the be- lief that our God is able...!"
A. J. Richardson
PAGE 4-A FLORIDA SENTINEL BULLETIN PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY AND FRIDAY FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 2017