...43 Years Ago This Month...
On August 29th 2005, one of the deadliest storms to ever hit our Gulf Coast almost destroyed the City of New Orleans. Almost 2,000 people died from both natural and unnatural causes. It ranked as the third most intense storm ever to hit the Gulf Coast (in recorded history). It ranked right behind the 1935 Labor Day Hurricane and the top dog of the three, the 1969 August hurricane named Camille.
This is my story of Hurricane Camille while I was stationed in Pensacola.
As quoted from a unknown news story: On the evening of 17 August 1969, the storm made landfall. Hurricane Camille was one of very few storms to have recorded sustained wind speeds of at least 190 miles per hour, remains the only confirmed Atlantic hurricane in recorded history to make landfall with wind speeds at or above such a level. The actual wind speed of Hurricane Camille will never be known, as it destroyed all of the wind recording instruments upon making landfall. By central pressure alone, Camille was the second strongest U.S. land falling hurricane in recorded history. It was a monster.
My story really starts eight days prior to landfall of this historic and deadly storm. Late on a very hot and steamy afternoon on the 9th of August, the plane which was bringing me to Pensacola, Florida for training touched down. I was amazed when I got off the plane - I thought Minnesota was humid this time of year - Pensacola was brutal.
After departing boot camp and spending a week at home on leave, I was traveling to a place I had never been at to learn about subjects I knew nothing about. After taking a taxi from the airport to the base, I checked in. I was then assigned berthing in a WW II vintage location called "Building 501". It was old, it was hot and stuffy, and it was barely suitable for Navy standards. However, it would be the place I would call home for the next six months.
Shortly after arriving, I was assigned to a work detail prior to class starting. Every day we would travel around the base, picking up litter, cutting grass, or sweeping streets. Every night after chow, with the humidity so thick you could cut it with a knife, we would strip to our underwear, sit in front of huge fans, and watch TV in the commons area.
The meteorologists in Pensacola were getting more and more excited about a storm developing deep in the Gulf. Knowing absolutely nothing about tropical storms, I found this fascinating. It sat in the Gulf, not really going anywhere, churning and getting stronger every day.
Now as a Minnesota boy, I knew about thunderstorms, and maybe an occasional tornado. However, this thing was something else. It was big, very big. It was like a huge thunderstorm, on steroids. And it was moving in slow motion. In short, at the end of every day,I could not wait until chow was over to watch the progress of this massive storm.
"Weather guessers" who track tropical storms would use something called a "cone of uncertainty". This was nothing more than a computer projection which defined an area of possible landfall. On August 15th, Pensacola became located in the "cone". For a while it looked like Pensacola or Mobile, Alabama might be ground zero for this monster storm.
Because the water temperature was so warm that time of year, the longer this storm sat in the Gulf, the stronger it got. First it was Category 1, then Category 2, then Category 3 - now it was a major hurricane. My fascination and excitement to see how this storm would develop now had turned to dread and fear. It was starting to look like this storm named Camille would come knocking at the place I was living.
On August 16th, the day before the storm made landfall, the base went on lock down. No leave, no going outdoors (unless specific duties were authorized). Unless assigned to a fire and security watch, everyone was confined to the barracks with meals consisting of on site emergency rations (C-rats).
Late in the day, the storm made Category 4. Many of the local and national hurricane experts were now predicting this storm could get even stronger. There was something very bothersome about Camille. When the storm planes flew into the eye of the storm to take barometric readings, the instruments recorded near historic lows. Word was spreading that this hurricane could now strengthen to a very rare and catastrophic Category 5. This would thereby unleashing unbelievable damage to the pristine Gulf Coast.
The next day dawned with the worst fears coming true. Overnight, the storm had strengthened to Category 5 and the track was now becoming more defined. It had veered into a more Northwest track, away from Pensacola. However, since Pensacola would be on the East side of the predicted landfall, wind speeds would still be very high and massive bands of rain would cause flooding. In the afternoon the winds and rain started in earnest. It seemed like every hour, the sky got darker, the wind blew harder, and the rain went more from vertical to horizontal.
Shortly after dark, this monster made landfall. The windows in Building 501 were shuttered so we could not see outside. However the sound was something horrible. Something like I had never heard before. It was a loud, steady roar with loud bangs as items propelled by the wind would hit the side of the building. At 10:00 pm, I was assigned fire and security watch at one of the schools buildings located in an old hanger on the other side of the tarmac.
Going outside, wearing only my Navy issued raincoat for protection, I got my first look at Camille. It was like a scene from Dante's Inferno, minus the flames. Walking across the tarmac was as difficult as I had seen on TV or read in books. I had to lean into the wind at almost a 45% angle just to keep my feet. The roar of the wind was almost deafening. However I did hear something that stood out from that horrible noise. Blowing across the tarmac was a sixteen foot metal dumpster - blowing just like it was a large paper bag. Garbage was flying every which way the wind would take it. It is a sight I will never forget.
My duty in the hanger lasted four long, very nerve racking hours. The roof of this old building, covered corrugated metal was a source of constant concern. Many times in that four hours I thought the roof was was going to either come off or fall into the building. Power was out for the base and the only lights on were the emergency lanterns. For the second time in my very short Navy career, I really thought I might die.
At 2:00 am my relief came. I was never so happy to see another person. I left the school building and began the long walk back to Building 501. During the time I was on duty I could see the storm had somewhat settled down. The wind was still strong, the rain was still coming down, but not like before it was before. Once safely back in Building 501, got into my rack and fell sound asleep until dawn.
Once daylight broke, we were allowed outside to start with the process of massive cleanup. The damage to the base was unbelievable. Sand was everywhere - considering the base was over a mile from the beach, that was impressive. The base had survived, but it was a mess and took many weeks to get back to normal.
In the days that followed, clouds parted, the sun came out, and the wind and rain were gone. However, life was certainly not back to normal. As lucky as Pensacola was just to get the frindge of the storm, the winds in Pensacola were still estimated in excess of 115 miles per hour. The bulls eye of the storm hit somewhere between Pascagoula and Biloxi, Mississippi.
In that location, the damage was extreme. Based on the damage trail of the storm, some hurricane experts estimate the eye wall had winds of an unprecedented 205 miles per hour at landfall. However, that will never be confirmed as the storm was so strong, it destroyed the instruments made to measure wind speed.
My wife and I visited Pensacola a few years back. I wanted to go there, just for old times sake. It seemed that most of the local folks on the Gulf Coast these days talk about Hurricane Ivan instead of Hurricane Camille. Ivan hit Pensacola in 2004. Therefore it is much fresher in many minds. Even though damage from Camille can still be seen in parts of Mississippi's Gulf Coast, most of the terrible damage has since been been repaired. And, memories of that horrible night are starting to fade.
However, this former 19 year old sailor will never forget that August night. That night when the most unwelcome of guests came a knocking. That night when Hurricane Camille made history in the United States.
