My experience with hurricanes:

  1. I spent the first 14 years of my life in Trumbull, Connecticut, a suburb of Bridgeport.  The house we lived in was on the side of a hill.  Looking down towards the north corner of White Plains Road and Unity Road was a large barn.  I was maybe six or seven at the time.  Of course, at the time, I was to young to understand what a hurricane was but all of a sudden the big barn was flat on the ground, blown in a north-easterly direction.  On that corner now is the Holy Trinity Lutheran Church.
  2. A decade plus later I was in the U. S. Navy stationed on a destroyer, USS John W. Weeks (DD-701), in Norfolk, Virginia.  A hurricane was approaching so all Navy ships in the area went to their assigned anchorages in the Hampton Roads roadstead.  The wind blew but the anchor held and the bow was always facing into the wind.
  3. Summer of 1962 – Don’t do anything stupid like body surfing in the pre-storm surge like I did back off Ocean View, VA.

That is the sum of my direct experience with hurricanes.  Not the brightest thing one could do, swimming in the pre-storm surge and not something I would recommend or do again.

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