Twenty years ago, Hurricane Hugo came ashore and wreaked havoc on the Lowcountry area.  At the time, it was the most damaging storm to occur but as time and fate happens, it was surpassed by Hurricane Andrew and eventually, Katrina.

I was living in Charleston when it came through.  I was in third grade at Orange Grove Elementary.  My memories of my youth, even at this age, are sporadic.  I remember the townhouses we lived in on Windermere and meeting a family whom we are still close friends with today.  We had dinner with them the other night and their 19-year-old son joined us and I couldn’t help but remark on the fact that I remember when he was an infant and still have pictures of him chilling in his little swing at our house while our mother’s hung out.

I remember third grade the most because of my teacher, Mrs. Telles.  I LOVED her!  She was sweet and kind and patient but firm enough to keep our rowdy class of 8-9 year olds together.  This was the year I was tested for gifted classes because I kept “faking” sick so I could leave class, since I was ultimately bored.

But what I don’t remember is the storm.  Part of that is because my parents sent my little brother, who was about five or six, and I to North Carolina to stay with my grandparents once they got the slightest wind that the storm was a major problem.  And we stayed there long after that.  I don’t remember when we came back exactly.  I don’t remember what I saw.  I know there was storm damage for many, many years after but I don’t remember if I saw it firsthand, if I processed what happened.

My parents stayed and since we were living in fairly stable brick townhouses and they were boarded up rather well, we didn’t sustain much damage.  Just a few roof tiles and maybe a window being blown out, if I can remember what my mom told me.

The most vivid memory I have of Hugo is a t-shirt my mother used to wear afterwards.  On it, in large, LARGE black letters, was printed, “HUGO.  THE $7-BILLION DOLLAR BLOW JOB”.  And, since I was an innocent, impressionable and naive third grader, I took it literally.  Hurricane Hugo was a giant storm with really high speed winds.  It blew boats into driveways and trees across roads.  It blew a bridge off kilter, cutting people off from the island they lived on and their homes.  It was, literally, a HUGE BLOW JOB.

Now, I get it.  HA!  Funny … the shirt and the fact that’s my only memory of it.

It’s probably a good thing – I can’t imagine what I would have retained had I actually lived through it.

On a side note: I also slept late the morning of September 11, 2001, purposely, in order to skip class.  So when I awoke at noon, I had NO idea what was going on, and had to call my mom after I heard on the radio that the City of Philadelphia was closed.  I feel like it’s Final Destination or something.  Maybe I should be worried.