On the night of August 31, 1979, David, one of the most destructive hurricanes of the second half of the 20th century, changed its path. Just south of the east end of the Dominican Republic, it changed course and made a sharp turn toward the northwest that took it toward the center of the territory, to the west of the city of Santo Domingo, which it hit squarely with the unprecedented violence of winds of 280 kilometers per hour.
I remember that in the afternoon, the dark clouds accumulated to such an extent that the sky became completely dark. Then the hurricane exploded with lightning and torrential rain, and the fury of the gusts threatened to destroy our wooden house with a corrugated zinc roof. That night we went to bed terrified, thinking that we would not wake up or that the next day we would discover that the house had been torn from its foundation and blown away by the winds, far from our neighborhood.
Fortunately, Santiago, my hometown, is in the Cibao Valley, protected by two mountain ranges. As they cross the mountains above the valley, hurricanes slow down. And although we lived near the river, our house was at the top of the cliff.
The next morning, the people of the neighborhood, especially us boys, ran to the bridge to see what had happened to the river. There we witnessed an event like those we saw in the movies. A large area of the city was flooded, including the avenue that borders the river. In the middle of the river, which had become an immense sea, we saw the top of a tree to which a man was clinging.
An army helicopter was trying to save him. For unknown reasons, the helicopter did not have rescue harnesses. That’s why the pilot was trying to get as close as possible to the man so that he could climb onto the landing gear. After several failed attempts, they finally managed to lift him up and transport him to the top of the cliff.
I imagine he was one of the many people who did not heed the Civil Defense warnings that everyone living near the river should leave their homes and go to the shelters. When the water began to rise and he realized that he had to run but that it was too late to save himself he climbed up the tree. He spent the whole night there. It is surprising that the strong winds did not tear him from the tree and throw him into the swirling waters, to a certain death.
The word hurricane comes to us from the Arawak peoples, particularly the Taínos, who once inhabited the Caribbean islands. They believed in many gods, including Juracán, responsible for storms, earthquakes, and poor harvests.
Certainly the ferocity of Juracán was felt in our land. David left death and destruction in its wake. A large number of buildings were damaged. Stormy rains caused widespread flooding of rivers; the floods devastated entire villages and isolated many others by cutting off roads. Almost 70% of crops were also destroyed; nearly 200,000 people were left homeless; and about 2,000 people lost their lives. Mother Nature gives and also takes.
And yet, that man survived hanging from the tree. More than the soldiers and the helicopter, it was the tree that saved his life.
©William Almonte Jiménez, 2024
