Derecho = Terror

I don’t think I’m what you would call the “adventurous” type.  I do like to try new things and experience new places, I like to meet new people and become acquainted with new cultures, and I love learning about all kinds of things.  This week, I learned something new firsthand: I learned what a Derecho is.  According to Wikipedia, a Derecho is, “a widespread and long-lived straight-line windstorm that is associated with a fast-moving band of severe thunderstorms. Derechos are generally convection-induced and take on a bow echo form of squall line. They travel in the direction of movement of their associated storms, similar to an outflow boundary (gust front), except that the wind is sustained and generally increases in strength behind the front. A warm-weather phenomenon, derechos occur mostly in summer, especially June and July in the Northern Hemisphere. They can occur at any time of the year and occur as frequently at night as in the daylight hours.”  My definition of a Derecho is somewhat different. My definition is “sheer terror”.

On Friday evening, June 29th, 2012, I became an adventurer against my will.  Having spent a great evening with Bob watching our beautiful granddaughter Aubree, we headed home in separate cars.  Storms were predicted, but all was calm and dry as we started out.  Within 10 miles of home things changed, suddenly and furiously.  With no warning, my car was slammed into the adjacent lane as 70 mile an hour winds and blinding rain arrived like a high speed train from my left.  Branches and highway barrels bounced around the freeway, narrowly missing those of us frantically trying to stay in our lanes and find safety under underpasses.  The underpass where we sheltered only provided minimal relief. Talking to Bob on the cell phone to plan our next move was next to impossible, as the storm was so loud we had to shout to hear one another.  With tornado predictions forecast on the news station, we headed back on the road, determined to reach home and safe shelter.  Trees and large limbs littered the six-lane freeway, and the wind never once abated.  I thought that my heart would pound right out of my chest (I’m happy to report that it didn’t).  Branches and debris banged against the bottom of my car and at one point we both had to drive under the boughs of a fallen tree that dangled precariously over the barrier wall along the highway, but finally we made it home to a powerless house. I walked into the dark kitchen, hearing the wind still howling around the house, thankful to be alive, and burst into tears.

An hour later the winds abated and residents of the D.C. metropolitan area came out of storm-battered houses to survey the damage—it was extensive.  The high winds felled huge trees, several people were killed when these mighty giants blew down on their houses and cars.  The phones at our roofing business have not stopped ringing since Friday.  And so the cleanup begins.  It will be a long process.  My heart goes out to those who are still without power and dealing with the unrelenting heat that has blanketed the eastern part of the country.  These are the times when neighbors are called to come to one another’s aid.  Those with power can offer warm showers, cool shelter, and become phone charging and internet havens. We can all offer a cold drink to a hot postal carrier or trash collector, check on elderly neighbors who might not be handling the heat well, and help out in a million other ways.   Once again the resiliency of humanity is tested, and with God’s help we will weather the storm.  Stay safe my friends, and know that my future entries will be calmer as I have met my adventure quota for the year!