Gloria Lockridge

The Little Black Book

Oh, my God! That cloud, looming over head was as black as coal. The wind was gusting. It seemed like it was blowing 90 miles per hour. My daughter, Lisa who is 5, is in my arms. The wind would have swept her away from me if I had not carried her. "We're almost there." I said to myself. A few yards away, is an underground shelter. It was designed for our neighborhood to have a safe-haven in the event that a menacing hurricane crept up to interfere with our lives. Today was that day. The wind was tearing at my face and trying to rip my daughter free from my arms. Now the rain began to pound on our bodies. We are only inches away from the shelter's door. I can see my neighbor, Mr. Taylor, beckoning for us and screaming, "Hurry, it's bearing down on you." Just as we reached the entrance of the door, the wind tried to lift me and my daughter into the air. I grabbed the side of the shelter's wall with one hand and flung myself and my daughter through the opening. We both landed on the floor. The door to the shelter slammed shut with a loud bang! My first instinct was to check to see if Lisa was okay after the fall. She was okay. "Beverly! I heard my name ring out. You made it." The Nelsons, the Browns, and the Taylors were already hunkered down and bracing themselves for the approaching hurricane.