I wrote this story in the form of a letter dated December 11, 1985 to
a friend of mine who formerly lived in Tallahassee. Hurricane
Kate was a category 1 hurricane that struck the Florida panhandle (the
eye passed just 40 miles west of Tallahassee) on the night of Thursday,
November 21, 1985. Tallahassee received the worst of the storm,
being on the windward or eastern side of the hurricane.
At that time in my life, I was working a few hours a week at a
health food store to help pay for groceries (these were the early days
of my practice as a professional astrologer). I worked at the
health food store that day but closed it early at 5:00 PM as the wind
tore viciously at me and the trees while rain fell in sheets. We
had over 24 hours warning but many people here (myself included) hoped
that it would come ashore elsewhere. My intuition told me it was
headed here though. I arrived home amidst howling wind and heavy
rain about 5:30 PM and "battened down the hatches" (took everything on
the front porch inside). By this time, the lights were flickering
and the wind took on the tone of an out-of-control freight train.
For the first time ever, I was afraid to be in my house. At
6:30 PM, the power (electricity) went off and the phone rang
simultaneously - an eerie coincidence that I took as an omen. It
was a friend urging me to come to town and spend the night with some
others at her house (a hurricane party). Without hesitation, I
said "yes," collected a few things and was on my wet way.
At that time, I lived in a small but wonderful 140-year old house in
the countryside west of the city on a 520-acre farm adjacent to a
national forest. My house was 1½ miles down Silver Lake Rd. from
Highway 20, which reached Tallahassee in less than 7 miles. I
drove almost to Highway 20 - until I came to a tree across Silver Lake
Rd. with a truck stuck on a downed power line on the other side of the
tree. What a weird sight! The driver asked me to call the
power company (which I knew would be hopeless) so I drove back home and
called the highway patrol instead. I thought I might be able to
drive around the obstructions on the road so back I went down Silver
Lake Rd. I drove around the first downed tree, around the truck,
over the downed power line, and off the road to get around a second
downed tree. By this time, the wind was reaching frightful
intensity and all I could hear was its screeching through the closed
car windows.
I figured that there might be trees down across Highway 20 so I took
Tennessee St. (a main, 4-lane road) into the city. The power was
out at all points west of Capital Circle (except at the city power
plant on Geddie Rd., of course). As I drove into the city, I
witnessed an eerie sight I had never before seen - flashes of what
looked like lightning all over town. What was unusual about these
flashes is that they were on the ground without streaks of lightning
extending into the sky. They were power lines and transformers
shorting out! Just west of Ocala Rd., a huge Live Oak tree was
down, blocking both eastbound lanes of Tennessee St. I had to
turn around and drive back to Appleyard Dr., from which I could return
to Highway 20 (I knew Tharpe St., an alternate route with many
over-hanging trees, would be impassable). When I turned onto
flooded Appleyard, I encountered water at least a foot deep. As I
drove past Tallahassee Community College, two hugh flashes in the
distance took out all of the lights in that section of the city.
The shopping center on Highway 20 between Appleyard Dr. and Ocala
Rd. still had power but many traffic lights were out. I returned
to Tennessee St. via Duval St. in time to witness two dead traffic
lights swinging wildly in the wind, each suspended on just one thin
wire.
By the time I arrived at my friend's house, I was frazzled. I
couldn't pull into her drive because it was completely blocked by downed
trees. We all parked our cars in a lot on Monroe St. (another main
street through the city), less than half a block from her house, and by
morning we were all glad that we did! During the most powerful
passing of the storm (7:30 - 9:00 PM), two mature Live Oak trees came
crashing down (what a sound!) across her drive and parking place and
barely missed her house. If cars had been parked there, they
would have been crushed! We had power at her house until 9:00 PM
when we lit the candles and turned on her battery-powered radio.
Radio and TV stations were also going out like lights all over
the city and by the next morning (November 22), only one radio station
(WTAL) remained on the air. The five of us stayed up until 11:00
PM listening to the radio describe what few sections of the city still
had power and the locations of dozens of houses with trees fallen
through the roof, interspersed by the thunderous sound of trees falling
outside. We heard the day after that the storm had sustained
winds of 65 MPH with gusts up to 86 MPH during the height of the blast.
It was scary - and Kate was a minimal, category 1 hurricane.
The next morning (November 22) really did look like the city had
sustained a mild bomb blast - big signs on steel girders were twisted to
the ground. We learned that several tornadoes also struck.
One person I knew described to me at a later time how he was
driving home in the storm when a tornado spun his truck off the road and
knocked him unconscious. When he regained consciousness, he
started to drive home again but his truck caught fire! The morning
after, merely 10% of the city still had power - only a short strip in
the city's core along Monroe and Tennessee Streets. At dawn, there
was no wind and no traffic - the only sound was that of chainsaws
throughout the city. I went on foot with one of the others in
search of hot coffee but the only place we could find with power was
Dunkin Donuts on Monroe St. Needless to say, there was a line of
50 people so we didn't stick around. By the time we returned to
my friend's house, they had deduced that a charcoal fire was the only
solution to their coffee craving. My friend also had no running
water that morning. The only remaining radio station at first
listed all of the businesses that would be closed but when they
realized that the list was endless, they began reading off only those
that would be open that day! Publix Supermarket and Waterbed
Delight were heroically open that day for those needing bed or bread.
I was anxious to return home to see my house. Driving through
the city was quite a trip - long lines at the two or three gas stations
with power and virtually no operating traffic lights. Some
drivers stopped at intersections with dead lights but most didn't.
The radio station was urging people to stay home. All
schools and state government offices were closed. Tharpe St. was
indeed impassable with three utility poles across the road - snapped
off at their base by a big, falling pine tree. I arrived at home
(the truck hung up on the power line during the storm was gone but the
fallen trees were still there) to find my house undamaged except for a
few missing shingles and I thanked God for my good fortune. I
stayed home all that day and evening. There was a curfew from
7:00 PM to 7:00 AM and the cops were actually arresting people who were
out driving without a good reason. A former girlfriend called me
(my phone was still working but many in the city were without) and
asked if she could come over. We shared the evening together and
she spent the night.
Saturday morning (November 23) I drove into the city for C cell
batteries for my radio, kerosene for my hurricane lamp, and candles.
The word was that only 25% of the city had power restored by then.
Publix Supermarket and a few other stores were operating on
emergency generators and weren't selling anything refrigerated or
frozen in a vain attempt to conserve what cold there still was in their
refrigerated units (which they had covered with sheets of plastic).
The next day, they were throwing out everything
that had been refrigerated or frozen. There was not a C cell
battery or any kerosene to be found so I bought a big candle (and there
were few of those). I saw a company called Warehouse Foods
shipping out their frozen and cold foods in a convoy of rental trucks.
On my way to Market Days (an arts and crafts show scheduled for
that weekend - why sit at home with no electricity or water), I passed
the only place in the city with dry ice and there were at least 100
people with their coolers lined up waiting (the seller was charging $18
per block of dry ice!). I guess many people had freezers full of
meat. Most of the businesses on Monroe St. had power and many gas
stations were open again. Electric and phone crews were called in
from Georgia, Alabama, Jacksonville, and Gainesville and they worked
16-hour shifts. Some greedy individuals and businesses were
selling chainsaws at outrageous prices that day.
By Sunday morning (November 24), power had been restored to most
businesses but big residential sections were still without.
Everyone on Silver Lake Rd. had power but me (my house was the
last on the road at that time). It was not at all uncommon to
hear people say that their neighbor had power but they didn't.
The most asked question was "Do you have power?" This
storm had a very interesting effect on people - for once, we all had
something in common and strangers talked to each other as if they were
neighbors or friends. On Sunday night, I couldn't stand going
without a shower any longer so I drove to the house of the only friend
I knew who had power and showered there. When I don't have
electricity at home, I have no running water either because the water
pump is electric. I hauled buckets of water from the
cattle-watering trough across the street to flush my toilet.
Although I could cook because I had a small camping stove, I
couldn't wash dishes so I didn't do much cooking. As a matter of
fact, I didn't do much eating because eating out at restaurants was
risky (food had begun to spoil in many restaurants before their
electricity was restored).
On Tuesday (November 26, 5 days after the hurricane), power was
restored to my house and it had been restored to most houses in the
city by that time. That's when the scramble began for firewood.
There were so many downed oak trees that everyone with a
woodstove or fireplace, a truck, and a chainsaw were out collecting it.
I collected four truck loads of free oak firewood myself so I
thought I might have enough for the winter. On all but the
coldest days, I used the fireplace in the living room to heat the
house (on very cold days and at night I also used the liquid propane
heaters in the house).
Was this hurricane in Tallahassee's birth chart? In the chart of
a city, the Moon represents homes, real estate, the comfort and
security of the population, and families. Obviously, even a storm
of this minimal hurricane status affected tens of thousands of
individuals, families, homes, and businesses (which represent both real
estate and commerce). Unfortunately, the time of day that most
cities, including Tallahassee, were "born" or came into being was not a
matter of record. When the time is unknown, so is the Ascendant
or rising sign and the position of the Moon is only an approximation.
However, there is another very significant planet in the chart of
a city (the position of which is not affected by time of birth) that
represents matters strongly impacted by a storm like this. That
planet is Mercury because it governs communications, transportation,
streets, electricity, and commerce. It is no coincidence that
transiting Neptune (one of the two planets ruling hurricanes) was
conjunct the city's Mercury (meaning confusion, flooding of low areas,
long lines at gas stations at first, and inflated prices). This
aspect occurs once in 165 years.
In Tallahassee's birth chart, transiting Uranus (the other planet
ruling hurricanes) was conjunct the city's Sun and Moon, opposite
Saturn, and square Jupiter, all of which are stressful and surprising
influences. Transiting Uranus conjunct the city's Sun and Moon
in particular indicated a surprising amount of damage from the storm
(much more than expected). These aspects only occur every 84
years so they are rarer than a hurricane hitting Tallahassee.
Another transiting aspect (that occurs once every 29-30 years)
was Saturn conjunct the city's Ceres - the storm "harvested"
destruction and the city was not very fruitful for some time afterward.