“This is an important book, recording the events and emotions that affected so many of us during the most destructive hurricane in the British Virgin Islands’ living memory. To read the experiences of the children of Virgin Gorda is humbling and leaves a lasting impression of resilience, hope and courage from the generation who are our future. I praise all who contributed to this book.”
His Excellency Governor Augustus Jaspert
When Hurricane Irma roared through the BVI on September 6, 2017, survivors witnessed incomprehensible destruction of their homeland. Greater than the loss of physical possessions was the loss of mental and emotional stability. I plead guilty.
Our home was well protected, but nothing could protect any of us from the 200 mph winds and tornadoes that brought terror into our homes and hearts. As the winds increased, rivers of water rushed into the upstairs and cascaded to the rooms below. Crashing debris knocked holes in our roof and torrential rain poured through. I rushed to cover our computers, musical equipment and photos, then turned to see our 200-pound copper clad double doors threatening to blow out.
Survivors witnessed incomprehensible destruction of their homeland.
My husband, Ed, and I tried to slip a rod between the handles when suddenly Ed’s door blew out! His strong sailor’s hand held fast on the handle as he flew three feet off the ground stiff as a flag in the wind!
“Let go! Grab my hand!” I screamed as I tried to pull him inside. Another gust was ripping the door from the jamb! When he finally let go, he fell to the ground in a puddle of blood.
Spurting blood fought against the shower water as I tried to discover the source. I couldn’t silence my gasp when I saw it. The edge of the copper clad door had torn through his foot! It looked like his foot was cut in half!
I couldn’t silence my gasp when I saw it.
Moments later we heard the swoosh! The remaining door blew off! I was horrified when I saw the surreal empty doorway. As the cyclone blew in I realized that I had to stop Ed’s bleeding. I struggled to get him down our spiral staircase, his blood leading the way.
Ed grew faint in my arms. My husband was bleeding to death! I finally got him into bed, elevated his foot and began what seemed like hours trying to stop the blood—still my recurring nightmare. The blood continued gushing and I knew that he had struck an artery. Yet even more frightening was his silence. I had little time to save him!
Only prayer saves. I believe that God put His hand on mine and stopped Ed’s bleeding!
Gratefully, despite loss of almost half his blood and a false newscast that
pronounced “’Everyone on Virgin Gorda is dead!” Ed and everyone survived, but not without painful memories of this devastating hurricane.
After four months recovery in the States, our return home was met with love and kindness along with tales of horror from our island family. Their hands waved wildly as they spoke as if to cleanse their minds of their fear. Their stories brought sadness to my heart.