A Mighty Wind

It seems fitting that on this February 2nd I give a nod to the notorious Groundhog Day Gale of 1976.

For those of you who live in southwestern New Brunswick you know about that day. Indeed, one does not have to say much more than, “Remember the Groundhog Day Gale,” and stories bubble forth like fresh spring water.

While I was watching for a groundhog shadow in Prince Edward Island, folks in southwestern NB were hunkering down.

One neighbour recalls the night the city lights went out. He was working at an industrial site in Saint John. As he crossed the yard heading out to lunch, away went his hard hat. He recalls when a large tank blew over just missing a couple of cars. He remembers how an office window blew out leaving papers flying and ceiling tiles falling. It was surreal in many ways. The only city lights came from a tanker tied up at the harbour. 

Not being safe to leave the job site, he stayed the night keeping an eye on things. At 3 am he remembers going to a little snack bar, the only one open on Union Street. He still remembers that snack. "A cup of coffee and a Jos Louis never tasted so good. Like a million dollars,” he recalls. Us religious types might call it life giving communion. 

When I asked another friend, a school bus driver, about the gale, with a flash she recalled being stranded from 3 - 8 pm on the school bus at Saint John High School with 35 hungry students. In a time before every student had a cell phone, imagine the parents wondering about their child. With $23.00 in her pocket, she fed the 35 students with snacks from another corner store. Another communion. Finally at 8 pm they were given permission to drive home across the Harbour Bridge while sheets of plywood from the construction of Brunswick Square flew through the air. 

As the power was out throughout the region, another friend, who lived in the country, remembers spending several days in her basement; it being the only place with wood heat. There she got lots of knitting done. I’m told that after that gale of 1976, many people invested in wood stoves. 

Another friend recalls how far inland the salt water spray travelled leaving a trail of brown cedar needles. 

One more memory. A few years ago February 2nd landed on a Sunday. I was leading worship in Saint John. As an opening ‘get to know one another’ exercise, I invited folks to share with their neighbour in the pew what they recall about the Groundhog Day Gale. My pew neighbour leaned over and said quietly with a smile, “I got pregnant.”  There was not a word about knitting. 

After a good belly laugh, I had to regain my composure and return to the pulpit to declare, “Let us worship.” 

As I asked a few questions about that storm so long ago, I find it amazing the diversity of memories of one day, of one moment in history.

Each of you who live in southwestern NB will have your own tales to tell. Those in other corners of Creation will have different tales to tell of other storms, such as Fiona, that are etched in your imagination.

Finally, I wonder how prepared are we for another such gale?

If you have a tale to tell, please share in the comments.