Hurricane Carla, 1961

I was eleven years old, living in Pasadena, Texas when Hurricane Carla struck on September 11, 1961. It made landfall at Port Lavaca, a little to the south of us, but the storm was so big and so powerful that it caused damage all up the Texas and Louisiana coasts. Damage was reported as far inland as Dallas. It was the eighth most powerful storm of the 20th century, a Cat 5 in open water, a Cat 4 when it hit, with sustained winds of 150 mph and gusts up to of 175 mph. The storm surge was 22 feet at landfall and about 15 feet up the coast a ways in my neck of the woods. In short, it was about as bad as they come.

We lived in a blue collar residential area in Pasadena and were affected by flooding from the torrential rains rather than the storm surge. Pasadena is famous for flooding when there is just a good thunderstorm. We used to make tips as kids helping people push their stranded cars out of high water. I remember walking home from Kruse Elementary School one day in water waist deep. I could have walked where it was only knee deep, but boys will be boys! During Carla the water came up to the doors of our house, but I don't think it ever came in that I remember. I was more freaked out by the high winds and was concerned that our house may get blown down. It had never been through a hurricane before, but it held up fine with no damage that I remember.

We had a good-sized picture window in our living room. I remember watching the pouring rain, lightning, dark clouds swirling, boiling, and trees thrashing around outside. I saw balls of fire low in the sky that looked to me like Roman candles. I wondered what idiot would be shooting Roman candles at a time like that. It was power lines that were hitting together from the winds and shorting out. As I was watching all this, I noticed that the wind gusts were bending and bowing the picture window; sort of popping it in and out. At that point I found another place to watch the storm. Not sure this link will work, but if it does here is the picture window that I watched the storm from. (Alas, Google Street View confirms that my happy little tire swing is gone.)

Verna lived on Hughes Road in Dickinson at that time, right on the banks of Dickinson bayou. She was in a very precarious spot and is lucky to have made it out. I will let her tell her story in comments to this blog or on her own blog (someday). Her story is better than mine.

My Dad had recently bought a grocery store, Thrify Super Market, in League City. It was much closer to Galveston Bay and Clear Lake and was in more danger of flooding. He left us in Pasadena and made it to the store before the water got too high. He and a friend/employee, Mac Malone, rode out the storm inside the store. I don't think there was much damage done but they were trapped there for a while and did not have electricity. I wonder to this day what they did with all the meat and produce that required refrigeration - it was probably a loss. Brother Ronnie reminded me the other day, on the occassion of landfall of Hurricane Ike, that Dad and Mac found the manual cranks for the cash registers. In those days, there were no computerized electronic devices. Although they were powered by electricity, the registers, like everything back then, were purely mechanical, driven by gears, belts, levers, etc. Using the manual cranks, they were able to reopen the store quickly and keep the town supplied with food.

The next day, the storm was pretty much past but there was still some wind. My friend, Daryl, and I rigged up sails on our model cars and sailed them around on the pavement of an abandoned gas station near our homes. At some point, the wind died down for about 30 minutes, then came back. I thought we were in the eye of the storm, but actually the eye of the storm took another path and was long gone.

At some point, I went with my family on a trip around Clear Lake and was impressed by the damage, especially to really big, expensive boats. Many were capsized, or piled up one on top of the other, or still in their slips, sunk and hanging by the moorings. Some had huge, jagged holes in their sides from being slammed repeatedly against the pilings.

Carla degraded to a tropical depression but not before it was north of Dallas. It went through St. Louis, Chicago, across the Great Lakes to Sault St. Marie, and didn't stop until neared the Arctic Circle. One heck of a storm. Here is a neat link if you want to see its path.