A Labor Day to Remember

It was early September, 1933, and I was four years old.

I lived with my parents in my grandparents' house in San Benito, Texas, where my grandfather had a variety store.  We lived back of the store, across the alley, in a wooden house that faced the other street---what was its name? Travis? Maybe. All the streets of that town were named after Texas heroes.

I remember standing in the front of the store watching the Labor Day parade which was staunchly parading by down the main street, Sam Houston Boulevard as I remember it. I remember the sky darkening, and the parade beginning to break up under an onslaught of rain. That was in the morning.

Next, we flash into evening, when we were eating cold baked beans out of a can  in the kitchen of our house. It was darkish because the power was all out.  There was much talk of the hurricane which had struck, and worry about the stability of our little wooden house.  Finally the grown-ups decided to go across the alley and take shelter in the brick store. I remember that we hunkered down and did that. There must have been some kind of lanterns because I remember faces barely lit, darkness and feeling ill.  And anxiety in the air.

When the big winds took the roof off the store, rain poured into the balcony second story, ruining as we later found out all the stock of school supplies my grandfather had laid in to sell the next few months. I also found out later that that was the ruination of his business as he had no insurance and never overcame the economic calamity.

At about that point, the 'eye' of the hurricane passed over San Benito, and we had the opportunity to get out of the now unprotected store.  I clearly remember running down the street to a dry-cleaner's establishment where a number of other people were hunkering down. My grandfather carried my little sister Olive. I remember 'hugging' the side of the building as we ran. There were about a half dozen people other than ourselves, and everyone became worried about the lightning, which might strike the dry cleaning fluid standing about and blow us all to heck.

I remember little more, except that I felt miserable. My mother later told me that I'd thrown up all night, probably from those cold baked beans...perhaps from the anxiety.  When morning came and the hurricane had passed, we went back to the house.

I remember standing in the kitchen, and everyone was talking about how remarkable it was that the house had stayed up perfectly okay, the roof intact and no inside damage to speak of.  That was my Labor Day to remember. My father was working in Mexico at the time, and got a newspaper from the USA the next day that said, "South Texas Wiped Out in Hurricane." But he came home to find us all safe and sound, though a bit shaken. He took us driving through the flooded streets, where we saw lots of poor folk driven totally homeless by the storm, and lots of wind damage.  A Labor Day to remember!!!   YAZZYBEL