A tranquil setting turns suddenly into rescue scene

August 29, 2011|By Maria Sacchetti, Globe Staff
(Photos by Yoon S. Byun/Globe…)

NEW BEDFORD - Just after 1 p.m. yesterday, Janet Hatcher was chatting on the telephone with her daughter about how this seaside city seemed to have dodged the worst of Tropical Storm Irene. From her apartment in Olympia Tower, it seemed there was hardly a breeze.

Then she heard a loud bang. A wind gust had pried off a slab from the building’s facade and hurled it to the ground, nicking her window on the way down.

The next thing she knew, everyone in the 10-story building for the elderly and disabled was evacuating to a church across the street.

“I was having such a lovely time in my house,’’ Hatcher said, a little forlornly, sitting in a church pew across the street with her emergency bag packed with medicine, her Bible, and her purse. “Nothing was happening. The sun was shining… . And then suddenly this big piece of debris hit my window and fell down to the ground.’’

The evacuation of dozens of residents from Olympia Tower was the most challenging rescue in a city with many low-lying areas that are vulnerable to flooding.

Here, Irene was a deceptive storm that at times seemed mild, but also proved dangerous and unpredictable.

Winds downed 225 trees across the city, blocking streets and snapping electrical wires, sparking at least one fire.

Surging seas swallowed up the beaches, while about 13,000 homes, and City Hall, were left at least temporarily without electricity. Most had not been restored by last night.

No deaths or injuries were reported in the Southeastern Massachusetts city of about 100,000 residents, a feat Mayor Scott W. Lang attributed to cautious planning and residents taking heed of the many warnings to stay off the roads and away from the surging ocean.

“I think they took this seriously,’’ he said. “They stayed home.’’

He estimated the city suffered more than $1 million in damage.

By midday, after a wet, blustery morning, the storm had quieted and few people had sought refuge at the Keith Middle School or other shelters.

But at a news conference around that time, Lang warned people not to be fooled by the lull. He said the city was about to get its second round from the storm.

A minute later, an aide whispered in his ear about Olympia Tower.

The hardest hit was a fifth-floor corner resident who calls herself only Star.

A gentle 67-year-old with an array of tattoos and long gray hair, she was sitting in her apartment with her companion, Ray Landry, 69, and their cat Bastet, when she heard a loud cracking sound from the wall facing the street.

Then a whoosh of air made her ears pop as the window came loose.

They called maintenance workers, who called for help. The cat ran to its hiding place.

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