The 1967 storm
September 22, 2008 (Monday)
One thing is on my mind these days: I’m ready for the power to be restored to the Timbergrove Baptist Church buildings and to my residence in Houston. In the meantime, I’m in Rockport, where I attended services today at the First Baptist Church. I enjoyed worshiping here today and having fellowship with friends. Everyone in this area received an automated telephone call advising them that a mandatory evacuation was in effect, so many of them left the area only to discover upon arrival at other places that the storm had shifted its track, which it did at least nine times, finally making landfall in Galveston. So folks here in Rockport are breathing a huge sigh of relief, especially after seeing the pictures and hearing the reports of devastation in the coastal communities it hit. The terrain in this area would have allowed massive destruction.
When I arrived in Rockport to become pastor here, Hurricane Carla was still on the minds of people, and they talked about it a lot. There was also much talk about the 1919 storm, which virtually wiped out Rockport, killing many people. So, in September, 1967, when Hurricane Beulah (a category 5 in the Gulf) headed this way, I was ready to take my family and as many irreplaceable items, like photos, etc., on the road. I was in the church office when the first gale came through. My car was parked in front of the church, and the driver’s window was down. So I ran to the car, jerked open the door so that I could roll up the window, and the top corner of the door, where the chrome strips met to create a sharp edge, banged against my forehead, tearing a small gash that began bleeding. I got into the car and drove a couple of blocks to the doctor’s office, and the receptionist was busy preparing the office for the storm. Everyone else had left the office to prepare for the storm. So she put a butterfly bandage on my forehead and wished me well.
We drove through driving rain in the dark that evening, to Halletsville, where there were several motels. We stopped at one, only to be told there were no vacancies. Suddenly Frances Watkins appeared. She said the Watkins family and the Geese family, both from our church, had two rooms. They squeezed their two families into one room so that our family of seven could have a room. That was forty-one years ago, and I still marvel at the Christian love expressed in that decision by those families. The next day we went to Wanda’s parents’ home in Central Texas, where we remained several days, waiting for news. We finally returned, via several detours because of flooding all over South Texas, and for the last twelve miles drove through water, following markers on the sides of the highway, because it looked like we were boating through a channel in the bay. Beulah spawned many tornadoes, some in Aransas County, prompting the need for armed troops to insure order in the region. We would see several hurricanes through the years. No two would be alike.
Oh, the head injury? Didn’t bother me…bother me..bother me…..