Letters

Letters 08-31-2015

Inalienable Rights This is a response to the “No More State Theatre” in your August 24th edition. I think I will not be the only response to this pathetic and narrow-minded letter that seems rather out of place in the northern Michigan that I know. To think we will not be getting your 25 cents for the movie you refused to see, but more importantly we will be without your “two cents” on your thoughts of a marriage at the State Theatre...

Enthusiastically Democratic Since I was one of the approximately 160 people present at when Senator Debbie Stabenow spoke on August 14 in Charlevoix, I was surprised to read in a letter to Northern Express that there was a “rather muted” response to Debbie’s announcement that she has endorsed Hillary Clinton for president...

Not Hurting I surely think the State Theatre will survive not having the homophobic presence of Colleen Smith and her family attend any matinees. I think “Ms.” Smith might also want to make sure that any medical personnel, bank staff, grocery store staff, waiters and/or waitress, etc. are not homosexual before accepting any service or product from them...

Stay Home I did not know whether to laugh or cry when I read the letter of the extremely homophobic, “disgusted” writer. She now refuses to patronize the State Theatre because she evidently feels that its confines have been poisoned by the gay wedding ceremony held there...

Keep Away In response to Colleen Smith of Cadillac who refused to bring her family to the State Theatre because there was a gay wedding there: Keep your 25 cents and your family out of Traverse City...

Celebrating Moore And A Theatre I was 10 years old when I had the privilege to see my first film at the State Theatre. I will never forget that experience. The screen was almost the size of my bedroom I shared with my older sister. The bursting sounds made me believe I was part of the film...

Outdated Thinking This letter is in response to Colleen Smith. She made public her choice to no longer go to the State Theater due to the fact that “some homosexuals” got married there. I’m not outraged by her choice; we don’t need any more hateful, self-righteous bigots in our town. She can keep her 25 cents...

Mackinac Pipeline Must Be Shut Down Crude oil flowing through Enbridge’s 60-yearold pipeline beneath the Mackinac Straits and the largest collection of fresh water on the planet should be a serious concern for every resident of the USA and Canada. Enbridge has a very “accident” prone track record...

Your Rights To Colleen, who wrote about the State Theatre: Let me thank you for sharing your views; I think most of us are well in support of the first amendment, because as you know- it gives everyone the opportunity to express their opinions. I also wanted to thank Northern Express for not shutting down these types of letters right at the source but rather giving the community a platform for education...

No Role Model [Fascinating Person from last week’s issue] Jada quoted: “I want to be a role model for girls who are interested in being in the outdoors.” I enjoy being in the outdoors, but I don’t want to kill animals for trophy...

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The Ravage of Nature Makes for a Riveting Read

Nancy Sundstrom - October 16th, 2003
If you have not witnessed one in person or seen images that capture the power, fury and devastation of a natural disaster, it might be hard to imagine that words could be the most effective means to do so.
Yet, that’s precisely the case with R.A. Scotti’s “Sudden Sea: The Great Hurricane of 1938,“ a gripping, page-turning work of non-fiction from the former journalist and novelist of thrillers and stories of international espionage. Not only does Scotti vividly document the destruction wreaked by a freak 1938 storm that made the East Coast’s recent brush with Hurricane Isabel look light a light spring rain, but she accents it with insights into the strengths and weaknesses of humanity that give the book great depth and emotional impact.
In many ways, this seemingly little-known event was the Perfect Storm. Described as “the most destructive natural disaster in U.S. history -- worse than the San Francisco earthquake, the Chicago fire, or any Mississippi flood,“ it came out of nowhere and tore across seven northeastern states, killing 682 people (more than 400 were from Rhode Island) and severely injuring nearly 2,000 more.
Traveling at record speeds, the storm raced up the Atlantic Coast, reaching New York and New England ahead of hurricane warnings and striking with such force that that seismographs in Alaska picked up the vibrations. Winds reach 186 mph, enough to strip cars of their paint and create a sudden sea - walls of water 50 feet high that engulfed home and swept entire families out to sea. It’s devastation was random and irreversible. The hurricane J. P. Morgan‘s Long Island estate, wiped out scores of beach communities, flooded the Connecticut Valley and permanently damaged and flattened Vermont‘s prized maples. Truly, nothing like it had been seen before or since.
In the first chapter, Scotti sets the stage by explaining a few of the reasons why noone was prepared for, or could have possibly done anything to prevent what happened:

“A summer idyll on the very edge of the ocean, Napatree was “sunshine, surf, and salt air blown over a thousand miles of open sea.“Those who lived there called it heaven on earth. They came back summer after summer, the well-to-do with live-in help, and their children grew up, married, and returned with their children. They surf-cast for flat fish from the rocks at the point, raced one another in their sailboats on Little Narragansett Bay, and occasionally lamented the fact that in all the years they‘d been coming to Napatree, they ‘d never weathered a real lollapalooza of a storm.
Hurricane was a foreign word in New England. People didn‘t know how to pronounce it. They didn‘t know what it meant, and whatever it meant, they were sure it couldn‘t happen to them, until September 21, 1938. On that last perfect beach day, a maverick storm sprinted a mile a minute up the Atlantic seaboard. Like a giant Cyclops, the storm had a single, intense, sky blue eye, and it was fixed on New England.
An extreme hurricane is both the most spectacular show on earth and the deadliest. By comparison, the atom bomb is a firecracker on the Fourth of July. Scientists estimate its force variously as the equivalent of an H-bomb going off every sixty seconds or three ten-megaton bombs exploding every hour. The Great Hurricane of 1938 was just such an extreme storm. According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, it was one of the ten “storms of the century “and the most violent and destructive natural disaster in New England history.
Most hurricanes attack with three weapons: swirling winds so strong that chickens are plucked clean of their feathers, rain so heavy that it turns tributaries into rampaging Mississippis, and waves so high that at first glance they may look like a fogbank rolling in. The Great Hurricane of 1938 had a fourth weapon: surprise.
On that capricious Wednesday at the ragtag end of summer, a strange yellow light came off the ocean and an eerie siren filled the air like a wordless chantey. In the next instant, serene bays became swirling cauldrons, and everything moored and un-moored was picked up and whipped in -- fishing tackle, teapots, corsets, porch gliders, picnic baskets, bathing caps, clamming rakes, washboards, front doors, barn doors, car doors, sand pails and shovels, sandpipers, sea horses, girls in summer dresses, men in flannel trousers, lovers on an empty beach, children in their innocence. Joseph Matoes and his three sisters on the Jamestown school bus, Geoffrey Moore and his three sisters in their Napatree beach house were scooped up and tossed into the maelstrom.
Although the sea had been running high and small-craft warnings were in effect, as late as midafternoon there would be no alert that a killer storm was prowling the coast. Rampaging through seven states in seven hours, it would rip up the famous boardwalk in Atlantic City, flood the Connecticut River Valley, and turn downtown Providence into a seventeen-foot lake.
At two o‘clock the swath of coastline from Cape May to Maine was one of the wealthiest and most populous in the world. By evening, it would be desolate. The Great Hurricane of 1938 was more than a storm. It was the end of a world.“

This impressively told tale again confirms that real-life is always more amazing than that created in fiction, and there is rarely a page that doesn’t grip the reader tightly, defying one to put down the book. Through interviews with survivors and some accomplished research and detective work, she balances the horror of the hurricane with a number of poignant stories, such as those of a man who sees his children washed away from their school bus into the sea, two sweethearts who nearly lose each other, and a young weather forecaster who knows far more than his superiors and fights to be heard. Some previously published recollections, including some from the late Katharine Hepburn, all contribute to piecing together the puzzle of what happened - before, during and after - making this an unforgettable and highly recommended read.

 
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