The Night Opal Almost “Got” Us

It scared the living daylights out of me!

Well, maybe I should say the living nightlights because this scary incident happened in the middle of the night.

We have told the story of Hurricane Opal many times over so this is not a complete review. However, just to set the stage for this story, which I don’t, believe has ever been told, Opal came ashore in NW Florida late in the day on October 4, 1995. She quickly moved northward crossing into Alabama between Brewton and Andalusia. She moved just west of Montgomery (Gust 90 mph at Maxwell Air Force Base) Then NNE to near Talladega and finally across the Fort Payne area before moving into East Tennessee.

Thousands of trees down all along her path.

At that time James Spann (ever heard of him?) was the Chief Meteorologist at WBRC, Channel 6 with studios atop Red Mountain. At that time, I was doing severe weather radio coverage on Clear Channel Stations WERC-AM, WMJJ-FM (Magic-96) and WOWC-FM (now known as 102.5 The Bull) I was doing the broadcasts from the Channel 6 Weather Office while James was handling all the TV coverage.

We were both warning that Opal would uproot thousands of trees even as far inland as Birmingham.

I don’t remember the exact time, but I think it was after 2 am that we decided we could go home. I believe someone had relieved James and I had planned to do additional radio updates from home.

Then it happened. Top of the mountain shook. A huge bolt of lightning, seemingly two feet wide (slight exaggeration, of course) struck the big WBRC lighted logo sign that overlooks Birmingham and you can see from all over the city. It was still pouring rain and the trees were bending over from the wind, so James and I were dashing for our cars and we were not more than 20-25 feet from the sign and the lightning bolt. I jumped straight up and I think James did too.

We had not heard much thunder that night, so I feel like the lightning gods were saving up extra voltage to fire at us the minute we stepped out of the TV station.

We could just as easily have gone way, way upstairs to overlook other lightning storms from where St. Peter lives. I am so thankful we were not even injured. I think I shook all the way home.

My fear of lightning dates back to before I was born.

Another time, back in the 1950s, I was sitting in the very corner of a crowded doctor’s waiting room on Red Mountain overlooking Bessemer, when a big bolt of lightning struck the corner of the building and ran down a steel corner post only 6 inches behind my spinal cord. Luckily, the building was well grounded. It knocked a big chunk off the corner of the roof and jumped to a tree only 6 inches away and peeled the bark.

Yep, lightning is frightening but life must go on…and on

Category: Uncategorized