Published Sunday August 26, 2007
2004 ST. GEORGE'S, Grenada
By Desmond Brown
 As Hurricane Dean threatened the Eastern Caribbean a few days ago, there were some anxious moments in my home, as memories of an ordeal faced some three years earlier came sharply into focus.
So how did this Jamaican came to be in Grenada when Hurricane Ivan battered the island, killing 39 people and destroying 90 per cent of all buildings there?
Late in 2001, while visiting my sister in New York, a friend in Florida told me about a job opening. I was interested, but there was one "negative." I would have to move to Grenada.
I told my friend in no uncertain terms that there was just no way that I would move from Jamaica to Grenada. To use a popular Barbadian term, Grenada sounded to me like a place behind God's back.
Anyway, it so happened that I had to eat my words because in February 2002 I moved to Grenada and to my surprise it was "love at first sight." Grenada became my home. I met some great people there, developed what I am sure will be lifelong friendships and my hobby (fishing) became more than something I wished I could do. Life on this charming isle of spice was sweet.
That was about to change. I lived in Grenada for two years when word came that a hurricane which had formed in the Atlantic, could be heading our way.
There was a popular term normally used by Grenadians in the hurricane season, especially at times when it appeared that a hurricane might be heading towards the island. I speak of the term: "God is a Grenadian." Like many living here, I guess I started to believe it.
Secondly, and again like many Grenadians, I had never experienced a hurricane, so in a way, I told myself that if this hurricane should actually hit the island, I wouldn't mind too much, because at the end of it all, I would be able to say that I had experienced one.
On the afternoon of the 6th September, we were advised that the island would definitely be hit by Hurricane Ivan that night. Of course this did not happen.
The morning of September 7, 2004 was just like any other in our home. Schools had reopened for the new term a day earlier, however, due to the threat of the hurricane parents were advised not to send their children to school on the 7th.
I was the Associated Press Writer for Grenada at the time and at about 10:00am I got a call from the Bureau in San Juan. They wanted to get a sense of how things were as the island braced for the storm. I got into my car and drove from my home in Grand Anse to the town on St. George.
As I headed into town I got an eerie feeling. The streets were deserted. All business places were closed and the major ones had put up storm shutters. It felt as if I was driving through a ghost town. I went back home and sent an e-mail to the AP outlining what I had seen.
I kept switching between the Weather Channel and a local television channel. They were both saying the same thing. Hurricane Ivan will make a direct hit on Grenada.
Unfortunately, what I saw outside did not confirm what I was being told on TV. It was a beautiful day outside. The sun was shining brightly, and it was a rather calm day.
I guess several other people were misled by the way things looked on the outside. I can clearly remember the television anchor on the local channel pleading with people in certain areas to leave their homes and head to the designated shelters. Among those who refused to heed the warning was a group of young men from the River Road community who choose to play a game of football close to the Queen's Park Stadium.
I worked with the Grenada Broadcasting Network (GBN) at the time. I decided not to drive to work that day. The station's driver was sent to pick me up around 12:30 in the afternoon. I was pretty confident that I would go to work, prepare and read the news and would be back home to spend the night with my family.
However, by 3:30pm, there was a drastic change in the weather. It had become very windy. The winds brought with them thousands of leaves which were shooting through the air in no particular direction. I was on the phone every two minutes with my wife as we updated each other on what was happening where we were.
I was experiencing my first hurricane, or so I thought. It actually felt good. There was a mixture of anticipation and excitement.
Within the next 10 minutes my excitement and anticipation gradually turned into fear and worry. The newsroom was located in the older of the two buildings on the GBN compound. It was an old building, but up this point I thought it was strong enough to withstand a hurricane. Please bear in mind that I had not seen a hurricane before.
It wasn't long before I discovered that this building was nothing compared to the mighty winds which were rapidly coming our way. A window in the newsroom which had been bolted was blown open and after trying for about 10 minutes to shut it, a group of us found out we were fighting a loosing battle.
The next time I looked outside leaves weren't the only things in the air. They were now joined by dozens of galvanize sheets. (Zinc, if you are reading this in Jamaica). Trees were dancing to and fro and even some huge ones which I thought could only be felled by a power saw were not looking too strong right now.
Things were getting progressively worse. Those who thought God was a Grenadian were in for a very rude awakening.
There were a few more frantic calls between work and home before that all-important link was cut.
There was no letting up in the wind which was getting more and more ferocious with every passing minute.
The second of the two buildings on the GBN compound was a much "younger and stronger" one. It comprised the television studio on the ground floor and the administrative offices on the first floor. More than 20 people were at work that day, the majority of whom were in the older of the two buildings where the radio studios were located. The others were on the ground floor of the other building, all except one of the managing director's secretaries. Her name evades me right now but she was on the first floor.
A few minutes later we all heard a heartrending scream. The young lady who was upstairs came running into our building. I looked on her face and knew immediately that she had seen a ghost. She just stood there looking at us. There were no words coming from her mouth. She pointed to where she came from. We discovered she had just experienced something that no human being should. The hurricane had lifted the roof of the building from over her as though it was nothing but a piece of paper. This had to be one of the most traumatic experiences anyone could have. Hearing sheets of galvanize which you thought were unmovable, being torn off from above your head sheet by sheet. Believe me, that's no walk in the park.
There was a look of hopelessness and bewilderment on almost everyone's face. Here we are in the middle of what to me had to be a category 5 hurricane. (Forecasters said it was a category 3 when it hit Grenada).
Ivan was unleashing his full fury on Grenada and for the first time in my life, I found myself in a situation where death seemed like a very distinct possibility. I tried not to look outside because I grew up knowing that you cannot see wind. That had changed in the past few minutes, I SAW WIND THAT DAY. There are many Grenadians I'm sure who will confirm this.
The wind and rain continued to batter us. We took a decision to move from the older building to the newer one. For those persons familiar with the GBN compound, you would be aware that the two building were very close to each other, separated only by a passage. To give you a true sense of how bad things were, we tried for half an hour to move from one building to next. It just was not possible and stepping outside could mean certain death.
Then, without warning, the winds died down, just enough for us to cross-over. Unfortunately, I was the last in the line as we were crossing over one by one and by the time it was my turn, the winds had pick up again, I simply could not go outside now.
Alone, in the building, I felt as though I was being chased and threatened by a mad man. Hurricane Ivan was not just a force of wind, there was something in this hurricane and it was determined to kill me. I was moving from room to room in what was left of this building and I just could not find a safe place.
I was praying for my family and at the same time I was also asking God to save me and take me safely across to the other building. This one was collapsing around me piece by piece.
It's been more than 30 minutes since the others crossed over. I was determined not to die. I again asked God to remember me and he did. The wind stopped again, just long enough for me to go across to the other building. My knees were weak.
I sat in a corner and prayed for my family again.
 There was no let up from the hurricane until around 8:30pm, some five hours after it had started. I was anxious to get to my family. A group of us got into the managing director's vehicle. It did not take us too long to find out we were going nowhere.
It was pitch black. The light from the vehicles gave us just a little glimpse of the magnitude of the devastation Ivan had wrought on my sweet, sweet Grenada.
We went back to the studio for what was the longest night in my life. It just would not end. When day finally came, We began the journey on foot to our respective homes. I got to a point where I could see my house. The roof was gone. The windows were all gone. My knees were getting weak again. I'm not sure where I found the strength but I continued walking.
As I got closer, I saw the most beautiful people in the whole world. They looked like they had been through a war, but they were beautiful nonetheless, and they were alive! As I hugged them I made a silent promise never to leave them again on the day a hurricane is due to hit.
Desmond Brown is a Caribbean Journalist. He has published one book, The Seasons of Life.
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