<Bz12>By Mary Sumpter (née Jolley)
‘On October 20, 1947 a hurricane hit us and part of our roof at ‘Bay View’ fell in.
We moved to Number Four, W.O. Quarters at Prospect whilst repairs were being done.
An entirely new roof was put on ‘Bay View’. We moved back there on December 17.’<$z$>
My family had arrived in Bermuda in 1946. My father, Capt. J. Donald Jolley, was a Royal Engineer stationed at Prospect Barracks and he travelled ahead of us from England in August.
My mother, Phyllis, baby sister, Lesley, and I arrived on November 7, having travelled by the Cunard Line’s steamship Aquitania to New York, by sleeper train to Baltimore and then by B.O.A.C. flying boat to Bermuda.
We landed in the Hamilton Harbour at Darrell’s Island, where my father met us. I remember being rather shocked that he was wearing shorts!
In those days, in England, only little boys wore shorts and when they graduated to long trousers it was a sign of growing up!
We were transported by motor launch to what was then the R.A.S.C. wharf in Hamilton and then driven to our new home by one of the very few cars on the Island at that time.
In spite of all this excitement, (I was only nine years of age) I remember being disgusted at missing the November 5 bonfire and fireworks, as we were in transit through New York at the time!
I could hardly believe that Americans did not celebrate Guy Fawkes night!
Moving forward to October 1947, we had heard about hurricanes, of course, and had made all the preparations we had been advised to make, such as running off pots and jugs of water and closing the shutters.
In fact, I believe my parents shared my excitement about it!
I was by then ten years old and was reading a book in the living room whilst keeping an eye on little Lesley, who was playing in a large playpen, which had been specially made for her by army carpenters.
Our home, ‘Bay View’, was located on Happy Valley Road, next to Fort Hamilton and has now been converted to a haven for young women.
It was a large house and, being built on a hillside, had the front entrance on the upper level.
One came in the front door and to the right were the stairs and along the hallway was the large living room.
Forward and to the left were bedrooms and a bathroom.
On the opposite side of the house a porch extended along both levels facing a beautiful view of Hamilton Harbour.
Downstairs were the dining room, another spare room, pantries, a second full bathroom and the kitchen, with the entrance to the kitchen on the Harbour side of the house under the porch.
On the day of the hurricane my parents were downstairs preparing a meal and doing various other household chores.
The wind was howling, but we all felt quite safe.
Then the wind ceased for a while.
During this time my father, in his ignorance, ventured outside the kitchen to see if there was any damage.
Just as he came back in the door, large slabs of stone masonry began falling to the ground.
He had gone out in the “eye”of the hurricane and we were now receiving the backlash!
He was fortunate he had not stayed outside any longer or one of those huge concrete slabs might have finished him off!
Meanwhile, upstairs, I noticed a crack appear in a corner of the living room ceiling and start coming towards me.
Quickly picking up my little sister out of her playpen, I ran out of the room into the hallway, just before the whole ceiling fell in.
If I had not acted quickly we would have been underneath it all.
I met my mother halfway on the stairs.
She was running up to check on her children.
I was running down, carrying Lesley.
My poor mother was absolutely terrified.
She stood there on the stairs with her arms around us and repeated both the Lord’s Prayer and the 23rd Psalm and everything else she could think of that might help!
Then we went downstairs and my father met us at the bottom.
He was of a much calmer disposition than my mother.
She was really shaken up and shouted at him: “We can’t stay in this Godforsaken place!”
Right then all she wanted was to go back to England, where hurricanes were practically unknown!
Of course, we later found out that the masonry that was falling was the roof, much of which was destroyed in the hurricane.
We had to move out of the house and into another army house at Prospect for almost two months while the repairs were being made.
At such a young age it was all a great adventure for me, and my mother soon changed her mind about not wanting to live here!
Eventually my father retired from the army and they spent the rest of their lives in this beautiful Island they had learned to call “home”.
Dealing with a ‘big blow’ in the forties