By 3:00 a.m. on Friday, March 14, Philadelphia got slammed by the unrelenting hurricane that had pounded the east coast of America for days. By 6:00 a.m. it had moved up the coast and was obliterating New York City. Other than a few insurance companies headquarter in the "City of Brotherly Love", O.U.T.R.A.G.E. bombs had not targeted many structures in Philly. New York, on the other hand, had been the victim of ungodly destruction. Now the hurricane threatened to destroy what precious little was left standing of the Big Apple. One of the few structures left unscathed was the Empire State Building; that was to be the case after the hurricane blew through. Manhattan was battered beyond recognition; many compared the scene to that from Kirt Russell's 1970's movie, 'Escape from New York'. By 9:00 a.m., the brunt of the vicious storm was over. All that remained was high winds and water past the waist. And, of course even more rubble. The storm was now headed toward New Haven, Connecticut; Providence, Rhode Island; and Boston, Massachusetts. Experts expressed varying opinions. Some said the storm would blow itself out to sea again. Others predicted all three cities would suffer similar damage to that of Philadelphia and New York. Most viewers realized the 'experts' didn't know anything more than anyone else. It was a crap shoot. This hurricane had been unpredictable since it first churned into a cataclysmic catastrophe in the southern most part of the Caribbean Islands' chain.
O.U.T.R.A.G.E. members were working 'round the clock trying to keep their telecasts on the air. While work crews repaired damage to the St. Kitts 'headquarters', broadcasts continued to be fed to television stations across the United States. Reports from all over the country were pouring in from O.U.T.R.A.G.E. members in the field. Some people were beginning to question whether this group of hi-tech rebels were actually capable of pulling everything together that needed to be done. Rebuilding a country that had been destroyed by a "revolution" was challenge enough. Now O.U.T.R.A.G.E. had to deal with a hurricane and a major earthquake.
Interim President Colin Powell ordered specialized military aircraft to fly over the eastern seaboard and take aerial photos of al the damage from the southern tip of Florida all the way to New York. The photos revealed unimaginable images. Because the planes flew at very lo altitudes, graphic evidence of the storm's victims was often clearly visible. Dead bodies littered the streets, massive buildings were crumbled like oyster crackers into a bowl of clam chowder. Even these photos showed how rescue workers were overwhelmed - and beaten down - by all the things they'd been through in less than 60 days. Older viewers who saw these photos couldn't help but compare them to photos taken over Hiroshima and Nagasaki after the U.S. had dropped atomic bombs on those two Japanese cities sixty-three years ago. Hardly anything was recognizable, even in such recognizable cities as Washington, DC and New York. Smaller cities in Florida, Georgia, the Carolinas and Virginia had literally been blown off the maps. The aerial views couldn't even identify some coastlines anymore since the oceans seemed to have regurgitated themselves onto the land mass.
On the ground, people struggled to navigate mountains of water. Thousands were still clinging to remnants of roofing, builidng materials, and household goods like a drowning victim would cling to a life preserver. Some had remained in the freezing, stagnant water for days by now, but there was no other way. If they dared let go, they would drown. The stench of death permeated communities, large and small. While the death toll was going to be massive, it was still going to be a lot worse than could be expected. Afterall, there had been sufficient warning, and many millions of residents had been able to leave their coastal communities for areas more inland.
Help was coming from across the seas. The governments of Great Britain, France, Spain and Italy had already dispatched cargo planes and ships full of volunteers, supplies, food, and medicine. From all over the United States, nurses, doctors, rescue workers, and just plain average citizens were heading toward the east coast to offer their muscle, manpower, and materials. Truckloads of everything was on its way. A manager of a Lowe's store in Columbia, South Carolina that had somehow managed to escape total destruction took it upon himself to open the store and give anything to anybody. "Sure,' he acknowledged, "there might be some rascals that will take advantage. But people need help and they need it now." When his superiors at Lowe's North Carolina headquarters heard about the manager's generosity, he was fired and escorted from his store.
By 6:00 p.m. the storm had destroyed New Haven, Providence and Boston, then veered to the east again and headed out to sea. By midnight, it was nothing more than a heavy downpour and some rocky winds. By the time it reached the southern tip of Novia Scotia, the storm had completely petered out. Record books would certainly recall this as the worst hurricane to him the eastern seaboard in modern historical times. A 'Category 7' storm, it would be remembered in the hearts and minds of those who suffered through it for the rest of their lives. Now, things could get back to 'normal'.
O.U.T.R.A.G.E. members were working 'round the clock trying to keep their telecasts on the air. While work crews repaired damage to the St. Kitts 'headquarters', broadcasts continued to be fed to television stations across the United States. Reports from all over the country were pouring in from O.U.T.R.A.G.E. members in the field. Some people were beginning to question whether this group of hi-tech rebels were actually capable of pulling everything together that needed to be done. Rebuilding a country that had been destroyed by a "revolution" was challenge enough. Now O.U.T.R.A.G.E. had to deal with a hurricane and a major earthquake.
Interim President Colin Powell ordered specialized military aircraft to fly over the eastern seaboard and take aerial photos of al the damage from the southern tip of Florida all the way to New York. The photos revealed unimaginable images. Because the planes flew at very lo altitudes, graphic evidence of the storm's victims was often clearly visible. Dead bodies littered the streets, massive buildings were crumbled like oyster crackers into a bowl of clam chowder. Even these photos showed how rescue workers were overwhelmed - and beaten down - by all the things they'd been through in less than 60 days. Older viewers who saw these photos couldn't help but compare them to photos taken over Hiroshima and Nagasaki after the U.S. had dropped atomic bombs on those two Japanese cities sixty-three years ago. Hardly anything was recognizable, even in such recognizable cities as Washington, DC and New York. Smaller cities in Florida, Georgia, the Carolinas and Virginia had literally been blown off the maps. The aerial views couldn't even identify some coastlines anymore since the oceans seemed to have regurgitated themselves onto the land mass.
On the ground, people struggled to navigate mountains of water. Thousands were still clinging to remnants of roofing, builidng materials, and household goods like a drowning victim would cling to a life preserver. Some had remained in the freezing, stagnant water for days by now, but there was no other way. If they dared let go, they would drown. The stench of death permeated communities, large and small. While the death toll was going to be massive, it was still going to be a lot worse than could be expected. Afterall, there had been sufficient warning, and many millions of residents had been able to leave their coastal communities for areas more inland.
Help was coming from across the seas. The governments of Great Britain, France, Spain and Italy had already dispatched cargo planes and ships full of volunteers, supplies, food, and medicine. From all over the United States, nurses, doctors, rescue workers, and just plain average citizens were heading toward the east coast to offer their muscle, manpower, and materials. Truckloads of everything was on its way. A manager of a Lowe's store in Columbia, South Carolina that had somehow managed to escape total destruction took it upon himself to open the store and give anything to anybody. "Sure,' he acknowledged, "there might be some rascals that will take advantage. But people need help and they need it now." When his superiors at Lowe's North Carolina headquarters heard about the manager's generosity, he was fired and escorted from his store.
By 6:00 p.m. the storm had destroyed New Haven, Providence and Boston, then veered to the east again and headed out to sea. By midnight, it was nothing more than a heavy downpour and some rocky winds. By the time it reached the southern tip of Novia Scotia, the storm had completely petered out. Record books would certainly recall this as the worst hurricane to him the eastern seaboard in modern historical times. A 'Category 7' storm, it would be remembered in the hearts and minds of those who suffered through it for the rest of their lives. Now, things could get back to 'normal'.
posted by Bushwacker! at 6:05 AM
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