The Sticky Mess

   Way back in January of 1919, a deadly event occurred that could have been prevented had carelessness not gotten in the way.  Most folks nowadays have forgotten or merely have not even heard of the "Great Molasses Flood of 1919" and when you mention it, a lot of folks stare in disbelief as if it was not a true disaster.  Jokes are often made but the loss of life is not ever fodder for comedy.  The flood really did happen and it was all the result of greed and carelessness.  The flood was truly that...a flood.  It happened because of a failure in the structure of a 50 foot tall storage tank that was a slipshod construction.  A neighborhood in North End, Boston was completely devastated by a gigantic surge of molasses after the storage tank ruptured.  Townsfolk had pointed out the structure leakage long before the tank literally exploded but nothing more than a brown coat of paint was applied to the tank.  This was done to merely disguise the problem and not to remedy the situation.  Because of the shady dealings, the rupture caused the neighborhood to be engulfed by a 35 mile per hour wave that was 25 foot tall.  2.3 million gallons of molasses ripped through buildings, toppled trains from the tracks and, most horrifically, killed 21 people and numerous animals.  The town was in complete shambles and covered in a horribly sticky mess that made cleanup nigh on impossible until it was found that salt water helped dissolve the goo.  The fire department was then put in charge of the major amount of cleanup as salt water was pumped from the Boston Harbor.  All in all, this was a tragic event that could have been prevented had the Purity Distilling Company only inspected their tank to make sure it would withstand the pressure of so many tons of molasses.  Responsible action should have been key goal.

  Not to be compared to this catastrophic incident, something happened yesterday here at the Little Bayou House that caused this whole memory of that flood.  Purely because of a molasses spill on the kitchen table, I recalled that Granddad had told me about the Great Molasses Flood.  This spill, like the flood, could have been avoided had "protocol" merely been followed.  It appears that the lid of a molasses bottle was not properly tightened after use and then the bottle was inadvertently toppled.  Yep, a small scale "chaos" occurred.  Sticky syrup flooded the table.  As I was cleaning the goo, Granddad's story came to mind.  I was determined that, once I finished the task at hand, I was going to research the event.  It was eye-opening and, at the same time, heartbreaking.  There were 21 too many lives lost due to negligence.  In both cases, that "ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure" idiom comes to mind.  Responsible action could have prevented the devastating flood in Boston and the small-scale mess in my kitchen.  

  Folks, if you ever have a few moments, read the history of the Great Molasses Flood of Boston.  Something that happened over a hundred years ago should be a reminder that we all need to be more responsible in our actions.  

 

  

Once Again...Be The Helping Hand

   So Hurricane Ida decided to slide on into Louisiana to unleash her wrath.  The good people there are suffering.  If you have never had to deal with a powerful hurricane, watch a few of the videos that are abundant on the Internet...then imagine that being spread for hundreds and hundreds of miles.  The force of the wind and water is beyond comprehension. The devastation is mindboggling.  These storms are definitely something to contend with and are not something to ever take lightly.  Here on the Bayou, we prepared just in case Ida took a swing our way.  We are so very thankful that it did not.  We got the outskirts of the storm which did give us a bit of wind and copious rainfall.  In fact, there was enough rainfall in Mississippi to cause major flooding.  Roads are collapsing and houses are submerged.  A lot of folks were just not ready.  The Little Bayou House did not see damage and there is very little in the way of cleanup.  

  It was during that cleanup today that I came across one of the other type victims of storms and floods.  While picking up debris, a slight movement caught my eye.  It is important to notice ALL movement after hurricanes since moccasins can easily be balled up in the debris.  This, however, was no moccasin.  A cicada nymph had come from underground on its way to becoming an adult.  The poor thing had to dig through soggy ground only to emerge right in the midst of fire ants that had been dislocated due to the storm surge.  Fire ants are friends to no one and would have made short work of the cicada as it had no way to escape.  Cicadas at this stage are slow moving and almost clumsy.  I just could not stand by and let the poor thing die such a painful death.

  Knowing cicadas usually try to climb oak trees at this stage, I gently lifted the creature and let it rest in the palm of my hand.  The nearest oak tree was also covered in ants so that would have been a poor choice of morphing spot.  The cicada nymph stayed on my hand until I found a tree free of ants. There, I released the insect.  The critter slowly left my hand for the bark of the tree. It seemed happy.  I watched for a while as it made its way up the oak tree.  

  It made me feel good that I had helped the cicada.  I am sure the critter was appreciative.  Folks, if you can spare anything, there are numerous foundations that are collecting items to help the good folks that have been so hurt by Hurricane Ida.  Please pray, donate, lend a helping hand or just send encouraging words their way.  Trust me.  You will be appreciated. A little help goes a long way.  Be kind, folks.

To Give You An Idea....

  Sometimes folks that are away from the Coast cannot fathom the destruction brought on by a hurricane.  In fact, they do not even understand why cleanup and repair afterward takes time.  It is not just the wind when you live directly on the water as we do.  That water, itself, is a powerful force to be reckoned with and it does more damage usually than the winds.  The onslaught of a tidal surge literally demolishes anything in its path.  If the wall of water does not finish the job, debris from across the Bay pretty much acts as a battering ram and fells whatever it decides to take.  

  This tidal surge or "wall of water" is just that. It is a churning tempest with enough force to topple a house or dig up huge oak trees.  Depending on the strength of the storm, that wall can be anywhere from a few feet to thirty or forty feet high.  When it comes crashing ashore, nothing stands a chance.

  A few weeks ago, I noticed something odd on my brother's pier.  He had very tall pole put in by the pile-driver but atop that, he had mounted a tall "steeple".  I pondered his thinking and motive behind this monstrosity until Mark and I walked over to his pier.  He explained.  "You see that little red flag about half way up the post?  That is where Hurricane Zeta's surge got.  It was that high!'  We marveled on that but we knew first hand that the water was higher than the weather forecasters predicted.  The hurricane was not one to play nicely.  He continued "Now look way up there at the top.  You see that flag?  That was how high Hurricane Katrina's surge was and it stayed there for eight hours pounding us."   Well, THAT visual brought back the disturbing memories of the longest storm that I have ever endured.  That storm surge hit us at thirty two feet even though the weather experts claimed far less.  That storm water covered our entire hill from the Bay all the way to the road.  Nothing was left untouched by the water.  We found sofas from parts unknown in the tops of pine trees.  In fact, there was a skiff tossed up in the top of an oak tree far behind our house.  That storm was not one that I would ever wish upon anyone.  At least, Hurricane Zeta made a hasty exit.  If it had not, we would have been in far worse shape than we were/are.  The cleanup continues.  

  The visual of the flags on my brother's pier post brings a lot into perspective.  The depth of the water is clear evidence of the strength of the storm behind it.  Neither of these were ones to take lightly.  So there you have it, folks.  This is a clear idea of how high the water gets for those who have never ridden out a storm on the Coast.  Never underestimate a tidal surge.  It can be devastating.

Hurricane Laura....A Monster

   As I write this, my heart is heavy for the good folks in the path of Hurricane Laura.  That is not a storm that anyone wishes to face.  The devastation is going to be far worse than many can comprehend.  After riding out Hurricane Katrina on the Bayou, I can tell you first hand that Hurricane Laura is a monster.  I have dear friends right in the path of this storm and they stand to lose everything they own.  Hopefully, they will stay safe.  Sadly, however, many people will lose their lives if they did not choose to evacuate.  It is gut wrenching to watch the satellite videos knowing the hurricane is still strengthening.  Its going to be a long, hard night for the folks in the path of this storm and the days after are going to be equally as hard as nothing...I repeat NOTHING will be the same for them.  

  I can only ask that each of you reading this will rally around the good folks who stand to lose so very much.  Open your hearts.  Help them in any way you can.  Give what you can.  Pray for them.  They are going to need it.  They are going to need to hear that you care.  We did.  Here on the Mississippi Coast, those of us who rode out Hurricane Katrina needed to hear that others cared that our lives were turned upside down.  We needed to hear that you cared that, even years and years later, things would never be the same.  Be kind, folks, be kind.  

Hurricanes, Petunias and Pop

  A friend recently told me that it was refreshing to listen to me babble since I seem to be able to find at least some small bit of good in just about anything.  I replied that it was for my sanity.  If I, like most people now, only see and spread the bad, this old world is a goner from my standpoint.  According to even a lot of my family members...everything is bad and they have no problem stirring the pot by posting stuff (even things not true because they are too lazy to verify) on social media.  This merely gives them a sense of self importance as obviously, there is nothing else to occupy their time.  Methinks they need a hobby of some sort other than trying to get folks riled. 

   But, back to my original statement of how I tend to look for blessings instead of curses.  I was out watering the gardens when a lone petunia bobbed its head sweetly at me.  "Good morning, beautiful!" I said.  I figured flowers, at least, are not troublemakers so having a conversation with one is a good thing.  The visit was nice but the dialog seemed to be a bit one-sided.  However!  However, that tiny petunia sure made me think of how blessed I am.  

  Years ago, Hurricane Katrina just about devastated the entire Mississippi Coast and that included my little Bayou.  The tidal surge covered everything in sight and wormed its way into the Little Bayou House.  Winds rattled and shook the house until I thought sure we were soon going to be on a roller-coaster ride northward.  The seemingly endless storm gave us all a renewed look at how precious life really is and how it should not be wasted.  After the winds subsided and the waters receded, the place was in such disarray that we were in shock for days...weeks...months.  We had no running water, no electricity, no way of exiting the Bayou area...nothing for two months.  The place had been ravaged so what did we do?  We pulled up our bootstraps and set to work  Around here, you do not wait on handouts or go around expecting help from anyone.  It does not happen.  Starting at the house and working outward, we cleared the ten foot deep piles of debris from against the house until finally we had a meager yard!  Oh, happy day!  

  It was after clearing a bit that I began to notice tiny plants sprouting where not even a sprig of grass remained.  Watermelon plants!  Cantaloupe plants!  Tomatoes!  Squash!  Beans!  The yard was virtually a huge garden!  Seeds washed in from parts unknown were now sprouting and flourishing in the yard!  The Good Lord was providing food for those in need!  We were able to share our bounty with those who came to the Bayou to ask for a meal.  We had plenty.  Then hundreds of flowers started blooming...everywhere!  Our yard and my brothers' yards were a sea of purples, reds, yellows and pinks! Those were given as food for the spirit!  It was an amazing incident that will not soon be forgotten.

 While the vegetables and many of the flowers were seasonal and never appeared again, the little petunia was a remnant of the blessings of that year.  Now, it serves as a reminder that out of devastation, beauty can appear.  It is there.  The little volunteer petunias show up each spring and earn a place of glory in the gardens.  To me, it is only fitting that the petunia was chosen to be representative of the glorious Hurricane Garden.  Pop always loved his petunias and had just this kind in his gardens.  His guidance still floods through in the form or memories.  "Always look for the good.  It is there.  Sometimes you have to wipe away the grime to find it, though."