Remembering Camille

Remembering Camille

August, 1969. A category five hurricane slammed into the Mississippi Gulf Coast, packing nearly 200 mile per hour winds, a mammoth, screaming banshee with an eye that was more than 12 miles wide.

Camille was the only Atlantic hurricane to exhibit officially recorded sustained wind speeds of at least 190 miles per hour (310 km/h) until Allen equaled that number in 1980, and the only Atlantic hurricane in recorded history to make landfall at or above such intensity. Two hundred and fifty-nine people lost their lives and thousands lost their homes, businesses, pets, livestock, vehicles, and recreational vehicles. The hurricane flattened nearly everything along the coast of Mississippi and caused additional flooding and deaths inland while crossing the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia. In total, Camille caused $1.42 billion (1969 USD, $9.14 billion 2005 USD) in damages. To this day, a complete understanding of the reasons for the system's power, extremely rapid intensification over open water and strength at landfall has remained unachieved. Hurricane Camille is also the second strongest U.S. landfalling hurricane in recorded history by pressure, second to the Labor Day Hurricane in 1935.

August, 1945. Armistice Day. A baby girl born to young parents in Milan, Tennessee. The first sounds she would hear were celebrations in the streets . . . the end of World War II. Blue-eyed and blonde, destined to be fatherless at barely 3 years old. Camille began her life wading through deep grief while too young to understand. A life blown away suddenly . . . from a family with mom, dad and sister, pastel organdy dresses with matching hairbows, Easter egg hunts at the country club and long, winding, tree shaded streets bordering wide lawns to a grieving family of three, life with grandparents, pigs and chickens, and a school building which had been condemned for more than 20 years. As soon as possible, she left. And really never came back. Entering an open sea, she gathered strength and speed, hurtling toward the time when her fury would be spent. Always driven, propelled by unknown forces, unable or unwilling to recognize damage, as if she believed herself to be a superhuman impelled to charge forward until crashing. Testing the limits. Sweeping all who entered her life sphere before her, she lived like a shooting star, or a great wind. Burning hotly, moving swiftly, charging full speed ahead, oblivious to her inevitable demise.

A hurricane, Camille.