After coastal waters stretched into our homes, our lives, our histories, days stretched into weeks. Mourning washed over us in hot waves of stillness, silence, and salt.
The twenty-six years since could have been twenty-four hours. Flooded memories know nothing of time.
Image credit: Post & Courier, 9/23/1989, File/Wade Spees/Staff
writeamuck 
So glad to see you back on the grid, Genna! I wasn’t in Charleston for Hugo. I can’t even imagine the feeling after that kind of destruction. Thanks for joining us! I really enjoyed your entry :)
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It’s been way too long!! I’ve missed you guys!!
I actually wasn’t in Charleston during Hugo either, but I read so many pieces on the experience this week, and they inspired this post.
Hope to be a regular contributor to the grid again!! :)
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It was perfect for the ultimate question this week! Hope to see you in the weeks to come! Good luck in the challenge :)
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I looked Hugo up. Cannot image what it must have felt when it hit hard and fast them at midnight
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Evocative writing. Nicely done. *smile*
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I lived in central Pennsylvania at the time, and we got the “leftovers” of Hugo… even up there it packed a punch.
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Natural calamities wreck not only properties but emotions too.
A very poignant writing.
http://ideasolsi65.blogspot.in/2015/09/i-am.html?m=1
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Evocative and beautiful telling of a sad and moving story. Really loved it. Glad you are back.
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