Disastrous Storm Followed by Hurricanes Frances, Jeanne
The storm came in a destructive rush, defying predictions, and caught most Polk residents completely off-guard. When it had passed, Hurricane Charley had left a trail of incredible destruction in its wake.
It was a Friday, the 13th of August, twenty years ago this week that the first Hurricane in 44 years struck southeast Polk. It's a date that many who experienced the storm will never forget. In a matter of about two hours the fast-moving storm damaged virtually every building in the area and left more than a thousand homeless.
Lake Wales News spoke to some who retain vivid memories of the Hurricane on the twentieth anniversary of its passage. With little time to prepare, most simply took shelter where they could.
The storm had emerged early that morning over the Gulf of Mexico after a swift passage over Cuba, then underwent the rapid intensification that has become a new challenge for forecasters in recent years. Winds rose rapidly from 110 mph to 145 mph in only three hours as it sped northward at more than 25 mph, initially following a predicted course toward Gulf beach towns.
Lake Wales and surrounding communities, forecasters said, would receive only the fringes of the small but intense Hurricane.
The tiny but dangerous storm, sometimes compared to a hybrid tornado, featured an eye only three miles across, and Hurricane force winds that extended only about 25 miles from the center. The forward motion of a Hurricane reduces the wind speed on the left side and adds to those on the right side, adding to the threat.
It was almost noon when those following the Hurricane on radar began to notice a worrying tendency to leave its northward course and begin to move east of the forecast track while rapidly intensifying. It made landfall over Cayo Costa Island with sustained winds of 150 mph.
By 2 p.m. alarm began to spread in Polk County as the threat grew. Rushing to prepare, Lake Wales residents were twice alerted by tornado warnings as the wind began to steadily increase.
The storm had roughly followed US 17 northward through Arcadia, but continued to drift more to the east of its projected track, leaving much of the Ridge in the path of the strongest, right-side winds. Tampa Bay area residents were breathing a sign of relief, but here folks were unprepared.
As Tampa television stations were already broadcasting news of devastation in Punta Gorda, the storm approached Fort Meade, passing just to the east. The strongest winds quickly began to rush over Frostproof and the Crooked Lake area as the eye passed over Lake Buffum heading straight toward Lake Wales, leaving a swath of destruction in its wake.
David Price, then the director of horticulture at Bok Tower Gardens, heard word of the approaching Category 4 storm, which was already making landfall near Punta Gorda by early afternoon. "We've got to get out of here," he realized.
Price accepted an offer from Louise Adams of Mountain Lake to shelter in her substantial home, bringing his wife and son to refuge as the winds were already gusting to 50 mph. There they settled in to ride out the storm, hoping for the best.
Lake Wales resident Jim Reddick left his home on Campbell Avenue to try to assist friends on nearby Morningside Drive prepare for the storm to come. As the winds rose rapidly, "their child told me he was scared, asking me to stay with them." Reddick said. "His plea was so convincing I did choose to stay."
At 3 p.m. conditions became dangerous for travel and the deep gloom of dusk descended even though the sun was still high in the sky. By 5 p.m. winds reached Hurricane force and were rising rapidly. Stinging horizontal rains encouraged everyone to seek shelter. Soon the destruction began. Whirling tornado-like vortices within the storm began shredding trees and buildings alike as the winds approached 130 mph.
Area hotels and shelters were filled by residents who had fled the coast but suddenly found themselves directly in the path of the storm. With little time left, most simply found hallways and other interiors spaces away from windows as the winds rose to a deafening shriek, punctuated by the banging and thumping of heavy objects being flung to the ground or against buildings.
As the storm reached its shrieking peak it blew open the doors of the Adams home, forcing Price to use ropes from the curtains to tie them shut to try to protect those sheltering inside.
The winds blasted through the Quails Bluff apartments on the hill along Burns Avenue, tearing roofs off the buildings and leaving residents huddled in closets as the rain poured in.
The storm tore through the clustered hangars and aircraft at Lake Wales Airport, causing near-complete destruction, flinging the steel girders of the main terminal into the air and leaving them twisted into pretzel-like shapes.
Elsewhere the damage was similar as roofs were torn free of homes only to be tossed upon neighboring houses. A row of concrete streetlight supports on US 27 were sheared off four feet from the ground, exposing twisted steel rebar. Store signs became airborne projectiles.
The windows of numerous downtown stores were smashed, as were the skylights of the Bullard building and the Eagle Ridge Mall. At Bellissimo, a downtown art gallery, a painting by local artist Clarence Tibado depicting a summer storm on a beach sat on an easel in the window, unmoved as glass and broken ceramics flew around it.
Across the area, people were in awe of the force of the storm, some watching as water was sucked from the surface of lakes and drawn into the sky.
"It was crazy," Price said. He watched as the winds blasted the famous Bok Tower less than a quarter mile away, then called a Tampa news outlet to correct a report that the tower had collapsed. It survived, though damaged.
The eye passed swiftly, a brief pause in the winds marking its passage over the west side of town, while those just east only noted a passing light through the deep gloom of the storm as the powerful winds backed from easterly to southerly, then rapidly shifting to the west in a quick succession.
The storm left most streets blocked, obstructing the work of police and first responders attempting to render aid. By 9:00 a deathly silence had descended over the area as the storm carried its fury northward.
As the winds died, Lake Wales jeweler Max Mayer, fearful of looters taking advantage of smashed storefronts and merchandise scattered upon the streets, brought a lawn chair and his revolver to downtown Lake Wales, camping in the dark to guard his and neighboring stores. Happily, no looting was reported.
Wind-driven waters in a former sand-mining pit were piled against the embankment of SR 60 east of Lake Wales with such force that the roadway was undermined. Both east-bound lanes collapsed into the waters. An unsuspecting resident drove into the gap and was killed.
Although the passage of the storm was relatively uneventful for Reddick's group, his short trip home was typical, a twisting route avoiding downed trees and powerlines that required numerous detours. Price's included avoiding the heavy transmission lines that pass across the north side of Lake Wales.
The following days were a harrowing challenge for residents, set to a sound-track of sirens and helicopters. Without electricity, most were soon without food or access to clean water. Firetrucks and volunteers from other states flocked to the area bringing relief and bottled water. Portable showers and an emergency kitchen were set up in the parking lots of fire stations.
Enormous volumes of fallen trees, broken roofs, and other debris were soon collected from blocked streets and yards by residents, creating berms of trash along most streets. Federal emergency aid flowed to local governments and businesses to aid the recovery.
The Federal Emergency Management Agency, known as FEMA, began giving residents free emergency generators, and long lines formed at area outlets as people searched for plywood and other building materials. FEMA also brought crews of young workers to place tarps on damaged roofs, turning the landscape into a blue patchwork. Residents were determined to speed the recovery.
Long convoys of power company trucks from across the southeastern US were cheered as they arrived to deal with the tangled poles and snapped wires.
Although the emergency repairs took weeks, they were barely completed by Labor Day when, out of the east, Hurricane Frances approached the state.
As if planned, Frances ambled slowly inland, crossed the Kissimmee River, and passed directly over southeast Polk, the broad eye spanning Lake Wales, Lake Buffum, and Dundee. Although the storm brought 100-mph winds to the area, there was limited new damage. Most weakened trees had been brought low, and new power and phone lines generally held.
Yet only three weeks later, Hurricane Jeanne followed in the path of Francis, leading many to remark that the Lake Wales area had become "an asterisk on the tracking charts." Never before had a single location in Florida been struck directly by three storms in quick succession.
Recovery from the storms seemed to be an endless process of insurance claims and overwhelmed contractors. The last of the blue tarps lingering for several years as a reminder of the blow that had been inflicted. Many damaged businesses never reopened. The economy of the area suffered a serious blow.
At Bok Tower Gardens, acres of fallen branches left understory plants exposed to the intense Florida sun. They died, leaving the gardens devastated. Leaves and branches in the ponds and pools decayed, killing the koi. A small victory was achieved, Price said, when a mature magnolia tree near the visitor's center was raised back into place and survived.
Across the area, residents dealt with the impacts with determination and resolve. The events of 2004 are indelibly etched upon the memories of those who lived through those historic events.
Lakeland singer-songwriter Bryan Rivers immortalized the dramatic six weeks of hurricanes in his song entitled "Another Hurricane."
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