Huge and unrelenting waves pummeled the shoreline.
On the night before the Great Ash Wednesday Storm began its march along the entire East Coast between March 7-9 from the Carolinas to the New England coast, my mother decided to call her sister, Aunt Sylvia, at Nags Head to inquire what they were facing. Several of us kids had walked down to Hampton Roads harbor the night before and saw the surprisingly high tide and we knew even though it was a day away from us it must be really ugly at Nags Head. Mom let me listen in on the other phone and Sylvia, as steady as a rock, showed concern in her voice as she told us it was going to be extremely rough. It was the last time we talked to her or heard from her as communications went out along with so much damage. We did receive a letter from her one week later which told how it was for her and her husband, Uncle Hal (Culpepper, a lifelong Nags Header). I must have read that letter five times and when we finally got to see her and travel was allowed, I took notes on the entire episode which I have kept to this day. Even as a fourteen year old, I knew that this was a story for the generations and so I included it in my book, Summers at Old Nags Head. The letter is inserted as close to her wording as possible, thanks to my notes, for I never knew what happened to it. And so, following is my re-creation of that letter. I think it is the perfect way to tell the human side of one Outer Banker's story, a Nags Header her entire life after growing up in Wanchese with my mom and other siblings, Etheridge brothers and sisters, through and through. Here goes:
_______________________________________________________
Aunt Sylvia’s letter, dated March thirteenth, began:
“Dear Cam (short for Cammie) and children,
“This letter will be quite lengthy as I want to give you an idea of just what has happened down here. We knew on Tuesday, the sixth that the storm would be a big one. The wind swung from the west to the northeast by late morning and picked up to over forty miles per hour, not in gusts but steady. The ocean quickly went from a light chop to large rollers, breaking on the outer sand bar at heights of ten to fifteen feet and building. By the time of the first high tide after the change, around four in the afternoon, we began to get an idea of the gravity of the situation as water started to break through the beach dune line. By dusk, the beach road was under water on most of the beach and many people opted to leave for Roanoke Island or other points away from the ocean. Since we are Outer Bankers, however, most decided to weather the storm in place.
“During the night, the winds increased and there were occasional gusts up to hurricane force. There is something quite frightening about an ocean storm when you can’t really see it, but we knew the water was in the garage and under the open space below holding the foundation stilts. Hal secured everything earlier in the day so we hunkered down, blinds and shades drawn in the event of window breakage with lanterns ready. That was a good move since the power went off at around ten that night. Even with the windows closed and window treatments drawn shut we could not only hear the moaning of the wind but the roar of the sea, several hundred yards to our east. It was then that we heard a big engine and we knew it was Jethro from the fish market, making his way up the highway through the water in his military surplus Navy duck. We heard him come up to the back door, protected from the wind and immediately opened it when he knocked.
“Jethro asked Hal to assist him in making rounds to evacuate some of the folks in danger. He wanted my approval as well and, of course, I said that was okay. I’d certainly want someone to do the same for me, so they left and I just sat there and prayed for their safety. When Hal returned, we went to bed; he said that the water at the ground level didn’t come higher at the last high tide and thought it was following a new flow pattern inland caused by the highway construction.
“Ash Wednesday, the second day, we awoke and could no longer see out the windows when we pulled the drapes open for a peak outside. The brine being blown in by that time by constant hurricane force winds left a heavy film that only allowed us to know it was light. Hal went out the back door, protected from the wind by the house and down the stairs to check out ground level. He was gone longer than I expected but when he came back he had a thermos full of good, hot coffee. He used an old camping stove with canned sterno to brew a pot with a percolator on the back porch above ground level. It was the perfect location to do so out of the wind. He stayed in his waders all day, ready to go out on a moment’s notice.
“Wednesday was the worst day with waves pushing thirty feet at times, repeatedly eroding and moving inland through the dune breaks which were continually expanding. The wind was near or at hurricane force all day long and everything was groaning and straining. Despite that, many of the locals including Hal and Jethro made one more run for people in trouble. This went on by many brave volunteers up and down the coast, from Kitty Hawk to Hatteras Village as most of us had never seen anything like this before. That night was the most vicious and sitting in the dark made it even more ominous. I was very proud to see in the end that Hal’s handiwork on our home and your cottage was sound with both standing strong, ours with just some external damage from flying debris, and weathering an ultimate test. Many others weren’t so fortunate.
“Thursday’s tides were high as was the wind but it was down considerably from Wednesday. I don’t know if we could have made it through a third storm day like the first two and we were anxious for the water to recede and the winds to drop to a safe level for going out. We wanted to see what happened and help those in need in any way we could.
“While the wind was still gale force on Friday morning, the direction was changing to offshore and we were finally able to venture outdoors. Hal took me in his trusty jeep to the Baptist Church. Seeing that little church in the sunshine made me smile and people were gathering for a belated Ash Wednesday prayer service and to decide what we could do to help those not so fortunate. There were still many locked in by water down toward the sound.
“The drive getting there was very interesting as there was still more than a foot of water on the beach road. It was trapped with nowhere to go, much of it from the heavy accompanying rain. Even most cars could handle that water, but we passed a large number of cars which had been sidelined by the storm. They were facing in all directions meaning the storm water pummeled them, likely making them no longer of value due to salt water. In many places, soft, wet sand was present where roadway had been before and that was a problem for vehicles other than a four-wheel drive machine, like our old jeep.
“I hope you find the pictures a good indication of what we’ve been through. I am aware that even up there the weather was rough and I pray for all who were unfortunate. But you have been blessed, Cam, as have I. God definitely spared us from what could have been. We’ll have to talk on the phone when the lines are not so overloaded; they are recommending for now to limit calls to major need for the time being since many are still out.
Love, Sylvia”
Footnote: Uncle Hal's brother, Sherman Culpepper, lived most of the year in his house next door to our cottage diagonally across the road from Aunt Sylvia's home. Some of those who were flooded out and had to flee were quartered for a few days in our cottage. Except for a little underwash that didn't stay, they were at a minimum five feet above water and safe and secure. Mom was glad to allow them to use our place for those in need and when we came a month later to check on things, those wonderful people left it in immaculate condition. Even when they were stressed from their personal tragedies, they cleaned up after themselves. Truly amazing and courageous people, indeed. But, then again, they were Outer Bankers.
_______________________________________________________
Aunt Sylvia’s letter, dated March thirteenth, began:
“Dear Cam (short for Cammie) and children,
“This letter will be quite lengthy as I want to give you an idea of just what has happened down here. We knew on Tuesday, the sixth that the storm would be a big one. The wind swung from the west to the northeast by late morning and picked up to over forty miles per hour, not in gusts but steady. The ocean quickly went from a light chop to large rollers, breaking on the outer sand bar at heights of ten to fifteen feet and building. By the time of the first high tide after the change, around four in the afternoon, we began to get an idea of the gravity of the situation as water started to break through the beach dune line. By dusk, the beach road was under water on most of the beach and many people opted to leave for Roanoke Island or other points away from the ocean. Since we are Outer Bankers, however, most decided to weather the storm in place.
“During the night, the winds increased and there were occasional gusts up to hurricane force. There is something quite frightening about an ocean storm when you can’t really see it, but we knew the water was in the garage and under the open space below holding the foundation stilts. Hal secured everything earlier in the day so we hunkered down, blinds and shades drawn in the event of window breakage with lanterns ready. That was a good move since the power went off at around ten that night. Even with the windows closed and window treatments drawn shut we could not only hear the moaning of the wind but the roar of the sea, several hundred yards to our east. It was then that we heard a big engine and we knew it was Jethro from the fish market, making his way up the highway through the water in his military surplus Navy duck. We heard him come up to the back door, protected from the wind and immediately opened it when he knocked.
“Jethro asked Hal to assist him in making rounds to evacuate some of the folks in danger. He wanted my approval as well and, of course, I said that was okay. I’d certainly want someone to do the same for me, so they left and I just sat there and prayed for their safety. When Hal returned, we went to bed; he said that the water at the ground level didn’t come higher at the last high tide and thought it was following a new flow pattern inland caused by the highway construction.
“Ash Wednesday, the second day, we awoke and could no longer see out the windows when we pulled the drapes open for a peak outside. The brine being blown in by that time by constant hurricane force winds left a heavy film that only allowed us to know it was light. Hal went out the back door, protected from the wind by the house and down the stairs to check out ground level. He was gone longer than I expected but when he came back he had a thermos full of good, hot coffee. He used an old camping stove with canned sterno to brew a pot with a percolator on the back porch above ground level. It was the perfect location to do so out of the wind. He stayed in his waders all day, ready to go out on a moment’s notice.
“Wednesday was the worst day with waves pushing thirty feet at times, repeatedly eroding and moving inland through the dune breaks which were continually expanding. The wind was near or at hurricane force all day long and everything was groaning and straining. Despite that, many of the locals including Hal and Jethro made one more run for people in trouble. This went on by many brave volunteers up and down the coast, from Kitty Hawk to Hatteras Village as most of us had never seen anything like this before. That night was the most vicious and sitting in the dark made it even more ominous. I was very proud to see in the end that Hal’s handiwork on our home and your cottage was sound with both standing strong, ours with just some external damage from flying debris, and weathering an ultimate test. Many others weren’t so fortunate.
“Thursday’s tides were high as was the wind but it was down considerably from Wednesday. I don’t know if we could have made it through a third storm day like the first two and we were anxious for the water to recede and the winds to drop to a safe level for going out. We wanted to see what happened and help those in need in any way we could.
“While the wind was still gale force on Friday morning, the direction was changing to offshore and we were finally able to venture outdoors. Hal took me in his trusty jeep to the Baptist Church. Seeing that little church in the sunshine made me smile and people were gathering for a belated Ash Wednesday prayer service and to decide what we could do to help those not so fortunate. There were still many locked in by water down toward the sound.
“The drive getting there was very interesting as there was still more than a foot of water on the beach road. It was trapped with nowhere to go, much of it from the heavy accompanying rain. Even most cars could handle that water, but we passed a large number of cars which had been sidelined by the storm. They were facing in all directions meaning the storm water pummeled them, likely making them no longer of value due to salt water. In many places, soft, wet sand was present where roadway had been before and that was a problem for vehicles other than a four-wheel drive machine, like our old jeep.
“I hope you find the pictures a good indication of what we’ve been through. I am aware that even up there the weather was rough and I pray for all who were unfortunate. But you have been blessed, Cam, as have I. God definitely spared us from what could have been. We’ll have to talk on the phone when the lines are not so overloaded; they are recommending for now to limit calls to major need for the time being since many are still out.
Love, Sylvia”
Footnote: Uncle Hal's brother, Sherman Culpepper, lived most of the year in his house next door to our cottage diagonally across the road from Aunt Sylvia's home. Some of those who were flooded out and had to flee were quartered for a few days in our cottage. Except for a little underwash that didn't stay, they were at a minimum five feet above water and safe and secure. Mom was glad to allow them to use our place for those in need and when we came a month later to check on things, those wonderful people left it in immaculate condition. Even when they were stressed from their personal tragedies, they cleaned up after themselves. Truly amazing and courageous people, indeed. But, then again, they were Outer Bankers.
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