(Courtesy of NASHUA HISTORICAL SOCIETY) Giant trees, uprooted by the estimated 100-mph winds that accompanied the Hurricane of '38 to Nashua, lie across Auburn Street as several people gather in the background to survey the damage.

The tropics are finally waking up a little bit after sleeping through the first three and a half months of hurricane season, in all a generous five-month span of time that begins when it’s still spring and ends just three weeks before the first day of winter.

It was a dispatch the other day from our friends over at the New England Historical Society that reminded me that 84 years ago this week, folks all over New England, including right here in Greater Nashua, were mopping up and picking up twigs, branches and full-fledged tree limbs like a giant Northeast regional game of Pick-Up Sticks.

One 6-year-old first-grader at the old James B. Crowley Elementary School on Lake Street – it’s the Adult Learning Center now – was actually on his way to school, braving increasing gusts of wind and dodging falling trees and downed power lines as the Hurricane of ’38 arrived on Nashua’s doorstep and began spinning its way over the region throughout Wednesday, Sept. 21.

“Trees were down all over the place, no cars were moving at all … I turned around and went back home,” the then-6-year-old Nashua native Bob Sampson recalled when I asked him about experiencing the ’38 hurricane a few years ago.

“I said, ‘I don’t think there will be school today,'” he said, remembering his parents basically saying, “OK … you can stay home today, but you’ll go (to school) tomorrow.”

(Courtesy of NASHUA HISTORICAL SOCIETY) An old-timer pauses to survey the massive pile of tree trunks that were no match for the winds of the Hurricane of '38 that struck Nashua some 84 years ago this week. Younger men use long, two-man crosscut saws for the monumental task of cutting the trunks down to size to clear this area, which is believed to be along Auburn Street.

“It was a week” before schools reopened, Sampson added with a laugh.

By mid-afternoon, the hurricane, especially its wind component, was really building in ferocity. “I remember sitting at the dining room window, and watching the wind lift up the roof of our neighbor’s garage and blow it away,” Sampson said.

According to Telegraph stories, the storm peaked in the evening hours, then gradually subsided as midnight approached.

What’s particularly interesting is the word “hurricane” never appeared in the Telegraph until the Thursday, Sept. 22 edition. Instead, the Tuesday and Wednesday papers were full of stories on flooding that was affecting the region, mainly in Wilton, Peterborough, parts of Amherst and Merrimack. Fifty Peterborough families had to be evacuated; fires also broke out in that town.

Forecasters at what the Telegraph called “the Weather Bureau” even called Nashua police, urging them to warn residents, and those in Merrimack, Hudson and Litchfield, that some degree of flooding was imminant.

(Courtesy of NASHUA HISTORICAL SOCIETY) Large trees left craters of cement after the winds of the Hurricane of '38 blew them down. This scene is on Concord Street, Nashua, looking north near Greeley Park.

Score one for the advent of technology and social media.

Then came Thursday, Sept. 22, and with it giant Telegraph headlines that finally included the “H” word: “Hurricane Sweeps Nashua; One Dead, $500,000 Loss.”

But it’s difficult to fault folks from forecasters to editors and emergency services for the delay, if you will, in tying the regional flooding to a monster hurricane: One of the Hurricane of ’38’s most prominent characteristics is how it snuck up on most of the Eastern Atlantic states – and especially, southern and central New England.

Various meteorologic and historic accounts of the hurricane pretty much agree that the vast majority of forecasters were caught off-guard, most of them predicting that the storm, although picking up speed as it passed about 400 miles east of Florida, would soon veer out to sea with little to no affect upon the East Coast, and certainly, New England.

Suddenly, apparently while meteorologists were looking the other way, the hurricane shifted gears and stepped on the gas, soon hitting an estimated 60 mph as it churned due north, its sights set on Long Island and the southern coasts of Connecticut and Rhode Island.

Perhaps it missed the memo from the meteorologists and didn’t realize it was supposed to take a right-hand turn away from the mainland.

“Full Fury of Storm Hits City – All Power and Electric Lines Down – City Under Temporary Guard Policing – 700 Start to Clean Debris,” the sub-headline announced.

For what must have been a small news staff, the Telegraph’s coverage was impressive, featuring reports that varied from two or three sentences long to two or three columns deep.

Thanks to the Lowell Sun group of newspapers, which included The Lowell Sunday Telegram, the Telegraph, whose Main Street headquarters were at least partially inundated, was able to publish the paper on Thursday, Sept. 22.

The paper ran a daily update called “Storm Briefs,” taken from reporters’ observations as they made their way around town.

“Beautiful blue spruce uprooted at Payne home, Lowell Road, Hudson.”

“At George Stoddard house, Main and Revere streets, tree higher than house, leaning against south side, entirely uprooted.”

“Chimney down at A. U. Burque home, 2 West Allds St.”

“Chimney on St. Joseph Orphanage, Belmont street, demolished and blown into street.”

“Beautiful shade trees at A. W. Shea residence, corner Main and Prospect streets, lying on lawn.”

“Three car garage on Amherst Street near Edgewood Cemetery reported clown nearly 100 feet.”

“Fruit trees were denuded of fruit and leaves alike, all over the city.”

Dean Shalhoup’s column appears weekly in The Sunday Telegraph. He may be reached at 594-1256 or dshalhoup@nashuatelegraph.com.

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