In September of 1938, a great storm rose up on the coast of West Africa and began making its way across the Atlantic Ocean. The National Weather Bureau learned about it from merchant ships at sea and predicted it would blow itself out at Cape Hatteras, North Carolina, as such storms usually did. The coastal forecast from New York to Maine called for "fresh southerly winds" with some cooler, rainy weather. Out on the eastern end of Long Island, fishermen set their lobster traps as usual and prepared for another tough winter. At wealthy summer homes in the Hamptons and in Newport, Rhode Island, families continued with plans to entertain their friends.
But the storm didn't blow itself out at Cape Hatteras. It suddenly began an unexpected sprint north along the coast, surprising even the Coast Guard. No one had ever seen a storm like this; radar had not yet been invented.
Within 24 hours, the storm ripped across Long Island and into the New England shore with enough fury to set off seismographs in Sitka, Alaska. Traveling at a shocking 60 miles per hour -- three times faster than most tropical storms -- it was astonishingly swift and powerful, with peak wind gusts up to 186 mph. The storm without a name turned into one of the most devastating storms recorded in North America. Over 600 people were killed, most by drowning. Another hundred were never found. Property damage was estimated at $400 million -- over 8,000 homes were destroyed, 6,000 boats wrecked or damaged.
But the storm didn't blow itself out at Cape Hatteras. It suddenly began an unexpected sprint north along the coast, surprising even the Coast Guard. No one had ever seen a storm like this; radar had not yet been invented.
Within 24 hours, the storm ripped across Long Island and into the New England shore with enough fury to set off seismographs in Sitka, Alaska. Traveling at a shocking 60 miles per hour -- three times faster than most tropical storms -- it was astonishingly swift and powerful, with peak wind gusts up to 186 mph. The storm without a name turned into one of the most devastating storms recorded in North America. Over 600 people were killed, most by drowning. Another hundred were never found. Property damage was estimated at $400 million -- over 8,000 homes were destroyed, 6,000 boats wrecked or damaged.
One must keep in mind that back in 1938 there were no weather satellites, no weather radar, and no offshore weather buoys. The storm was tracked as it moved west from Africa and toward the Bahamas Islands. The U.S. Weather Bureau (now called National Weather Service) knew it was a powerful storm as it had reached category 5 strength on September 19th but it was believed that this hurricane would curve out to sea before reaching the Northeast. The Bureau tracked the storm on September 21st as it was off the coast of Norfolk, V.A., now a category 3 storm.
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A large area of high pressure was located over the Atlantic Ocean just east of the coast which kept the storm close to the coast and moving northeastward. Charlie Pierce, a young research forecaster for the Bureau concluded that the storm would not continue to move northeast and curve out to sea but would instead track due north. He was overruled by more senior meteorologists and the official forecast was for cloudy skies and gusty conditions - but no hurricane (Francis, 1998). Because the official forecast was not cause for alarm, even as the winds picked up speed and the waves rolled in, nobody realized that a catastrophe was only a few hours away.
Even the best forecasters, however, would have been hard pressed to forecast the forward speed of this storm. The Hurricane of 1938 swept up the coast to northern latitudes at greater than 60 mph -- at least twice as fast as normal. At 1 pm the storm was east of Atlantic City, New Jersey, where part of the Boardwalk was torn up. The eye came ashore at Bayport, Long Island, New York, at 2:30 pm when a barometric pressure was noted at 27.94 inches. When the hurricane and its accompanying tidal surge and surf hit Long Island, the impact registered on seismographs in Alaska.
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The eye of the storm was about 50 miles wide at this time, and the storm continued traveling northward into New England at more than 50 mph. The east side of the hurricane -- the "dangerous semicircle" -- was scouring the countryside at speeds approaching 100 mph with higher gusts estimated at 120 mph on Fishers Island south of New London, Connecticut. In New York City, west of the eye, the top of the Empire State Building recorded winds of 120 mph, although at ground level in Central Park the winds were blowing at 60 mph. With each mile eastward on Long Island the damage worsened. There was nearly total devastation on the beach along Dune Road at Westhampton, where only 26 out of 179 homes stood after the storm and most of those were uninhabitable. The 125-foot steeple atop the Presbyterian Church in Sag Harbor fell, as did hundreds of other steeples that day.
Twelve new inlets were created by the tremendous storm surge. Moriches Inlet, created by a winter storm in 1931, was widened substantially and Shinnecock Inlet was born. The creation of this inlet is affecting coastal Long Island still today. All other inlets were filled in with the wreckage of the storm, especially the automobiles, as well as with tons of sand brought in by the United States Army Corps of Engineers and the Works Progress Administration (WPA).
The Blue Hill Observatory at its 635-foot elevation in Milton, Massachusetts, just south of Boston, recorded a gust of wind out of the south at 186 mph with a sustained wind of 121 mph between 6:11 and 6:16pm. Only one anemometer survived these winds, which remain the second highest winds ever recorded on earth.
Southhampton suffered heavily along the shore front. From the bathing house to the municipal beach, only two cottages remained standing after the sea swept Dune Road. Among the shattered ruins was St. Andrew's Church of the Dunes, the scene of many society weddings over the years.(Allen 1976)
At Bridgehampton, the farmers were heavy losers; nearly 50 barns went down from Water Mill to Wainscott and north to the line of the Scuttle Hole Road. Potato farmers near the ocean found many acres washed out, washed away, or buried deep beneath sand from the beach. On other fields that had been flooded with sea water, the potatoes rotted soon after being dug. Farmers lost garages, chicken houses, and outbuildings, as well as barns; there were more than 80 places with such losses (Allen, 1976).
From East Hampton to the east, it was fisherman who paid the storm's toll. At Montauk, the hurricane rendered 150 fisherman homeless, destroyed or badly damaged more than 80 good-sized fishing craft, ruined scores of dragnets and fish traps, valued in some cases at $10,000 each, and came close to wiping out the sole year-round industry at Montauk. About 100 houses were seriously damaged, six ending in the pond near the center of town; all power and lights were lost; the storm tore up miles of track along the Long Island Railroad - near Montauk Point, even the roadbed was obliterated - and the community was virtually isolated from the time the hurricane struck until two days later. 29 vessels, some worth as much as $25,000, had been blown ashore and lay from 100 to 300 feet up the beach, costing a fortune to repair (Allen, 1976). The oyster and clam industry was also wiped out as tons of sand smothered the entire harvest.
At Bridgehampton, the farmers were heavy losers; nearly 50 barns went down from Water Mill to Wainscott and north to the line of the Scuttle Hole Road. Potato farmers near the ocean found many acres washed out, washed away, or buried deep beneath sand from the beach. On other fields that had been flooded with sea water, the potatoes rotted soon after being dug. Farmers lost garages, chicken houses, and outbuildings, as well as barns; there were more than 80 places with such losses (Allen, 1976).
From East Hampton to the east, it was fisherman who paid the storm's toll. At Montauk, the hurricane rendered 150 fisherman homeless, destroyed or badly damaged more than 80 good-sized fishing craft, ruined scores of dragnets and fish traps, valued in some cases at $10,000 each, and came close to wiping out the sole year-round industry at Montauk. About 100 houses were seriously damaged, six ending in the pond near the center of town; all power and lights were lost; the storm tore up miles of track along the Long Island Railroad - near Montauk Point, even the roadbed was obliterated - and the community was virtually isolated from the time the hurricane struck until two days later. 29 vessels, some worth as much as $25,000, had been blown ashore and lay from 100 to 300 feet up the beach, costing a fortune to repair (Allen, 1976). The oyster and clam industry was also wiped out as tons of sand smothered the entire harvest.
The storm traveled almost directly northward up the Connecticut River Valley, dumping copious amounts of rain especially to the westward of its track. Two inches of rain per hour were recorded from the hurricane and over 17 inches of rain fell in places in the four days prior to and including September 21st. River levels in many western New England areas broke the record flood levels just set in the March floods of 1936 -- thought by many never to be seen again in their lifetimes. The storm had rapidly undergone transformation to an extratropical low, but still retained tremendous energy, with high winds mowing down forests throughout the north country, knocking down part of Jacob's Ladder, a trestle on the Cog Railway on Mount Washington, New Hampshire, where winds gusted to 163 mph. The storm finally crossed Lake Champlain, near Burlington, Vermont, about 8 pm, destroying apple orchards and maple sugar groves, especially on the hilltops. Even in northern New England there was considerable damage, with soft ground from the rains derailing a Delaware & Hudson train in Castleton, Vermont, and knocking down an elm tree which crashed into the Playhouse Theatre, injuring two people in Montpelier. Flooding was extensive in New Hampshire, causing a major fire in Peterborough. Winds even caused building damage in Maine, well east of the track of the storm.
By 9 pm, the storm moved into Canada. It blew through Montreal and the province of Quebec and eventually expended itself in arctic Canada. Over 690 people lost their lives during the Hurricane of 1938, due in part to the poor forecasts. The rapid forward motion of this storm, however, would make proper warning difficult even with today's technology.
By 9 pm, the storm moved into Canada. It blew through Montreal and the province of Quebec and eventually expended itself in arctic Canada. Over 690 people lost their lives during the Hurricane of 1938, due in part to the poor forecasts. The rapid forward motion of this storm, however, would make proper warning difficult even with today's technology.
More than 50 lives were lost on Long Island that day - 29 of them at or near Westhampton Beach.
From ;
The Long Island Express the 1938 Hurricane
http://www2.sunysuffolk.edu/mandias/38hurricane/index.html
The American Expierence
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/introduction/hurricane-introduction/
Allen, Everett S., (1972). A Wind to Shake the World: The Story of the 1938 Hurricane, Little, Brown. Boston, MA. pp. 1-91.
The Long Island Express the 1938 Hurricane
http://www2.sunysuffolk.edu/mandias/38hurricane/index.html
The American Expierence
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/features/introduction/hurricane-introduction/
Allen, Everett S., (1972). A Wind to Shake the World: The Story of the 1938 Hurricane, Little, Brown. Boston, MA. pp. 1-91.
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