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THE OWL, AUGUST 11,1970
PAGE ELEVEN
Bv PAT VIGUERIE NICHOECN AVE., WAVELAND, MISS.--Six of us, including a young houseguest, were facing a rainy, squally Sunday afternoon inside. From the enclosed porch we watched gus-ting winds scud over the water and were aware of the subtle change in the light. Difficult to describe, but well known to veteran storm watchers, it has an eerie yet opaque irradiance unlike any other of nature's whimsies. With radio and TV on for weather watches j we made the usual preparations almost automatically* as we had done so often before. The date was Sunday, August 17» 1^6% In
twelve hours our home would be nearly destroyed, our lives almost lost, and ou± friend and neighbor dead.
Camille was coming, few knew her fuiy, no one believed her force.
At 5^30 p.m. we were aware that no land mass stood between us and the "lady". Since 90 foot pines have been sentinel over our home from the time it was built in the 20's, they were our primary concern. Presuming they might fall landward (they did not take this direction) we evacuated across the street. The Claiborne Cottage sits well ba’Jc from the beach and is less exposed to direct
lakeshore residence remains today just as it did immediately after Camille.
(Top) This home was rebuilt at Clermont after Betsy, tut Camille finished it. (Bottom) GVelve months after Camille, the scars of the storm still show.
These too Clermont Harbor homes were fused into one by the force of Camille's winds and tidal wave.
winds. During this time we made repeated attempts to persuade Col. Axtater to go with us.
Before we left we spent a frantic period racing up and down the stairs with "valuables". We tucked same paintings under the beds and left the Havilland in the aimoirej
fathered up my gardening ooks and left the first editions in the library! grabbed the trophies and portable TV leaving the baby books and family film libraiy. Such is the mentality of the moment.
Across tiie street - 6 p.m.-
2 _' cars _were parked on the side exit street n-nd three heading out the driveway - ^ adults and 6 children listened to the wind rise. We talked to the Colonel for the last time. A statement ty some unknown radio announcer that the winds might reach 190 miles per hour promped a council of four. One vote to stay, one for Poplarville, and two to move up the street one block. The women won. Howard Perrilliat's house was our neoct destination.
Cbly the 3 cars in the driveway were still available.
We found tiie others already blocked ty fallen trees. The last car drove onto the Avenue in darkness and driving rain. Limbs on falling trees brushed the trunk as though gates were closing behind us.
The only sounds were the windshield wipers and the wind.
As we pulled in the Perrill-iat's drive we knew we would stay. Two more giants fell, one smashing the hood of the lead car and one blocking our exit.
Unloading, lighting lamps, stowing gear - all the mechanics of settling in are vague.
The one universally spoken thought was to keep the children's spirits high and to in no way conmunicate our anxie- » ty, let alone our fear. The tension was lessened considerably ty their lively discussion on who would sleep on the pool table should the need _ arise, nor will I be allowed to forget that while mopping the floor and fussing at my teen-age daughter to lend a hand, my husband calmly asked, "Why?". Looking down I saw my purse float cry - the water (Continued on Page 23)
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