Typhoon Wanda struck at about eight o’clock am, Saturday, 1 September 1962, its epicentre travelled over the colony. It is recorded as the most severe storm that Hong Kong has experienced in the past forty-two years. We secured our second-storey flat with battens and carpets over the windows and doors, and then waited. The rain and wind were unbelievable – about twelve inches of rain in twenty-four hours with winds exceeding 100 mph, the piston of the anemometer at the observatory stopped at wind speed 130 kilometres per hour, an accurate reading was not possible. Eight year old Christopher and six year old George our sons bravely baled out the lounge room floor which had become flooded from the rainwater pouring in, while I crawled outside the flat with a rope tied to my body and unblocked the balcony drains. The woman next door came into our flat screaming because her flat had been smashed. She hadn’t been prepared and had lost everything. In the general chaos, cars were overturned, trees went down, roofs torn off, and boats were smashed. The final toll was 130 lives lost, 60 more people missing and about 1,400 sampans and other vessels wrecked, also added to this was the inestimable misery suffered by those people who lost their homes and loved ones.
Definitely, a non fiction excerpt from the JLS book 'Waving g b t a t flies. Read it. Vest daily gaggle.
I visited my wife Rose on Mother's Day (yesterday) with my son Chris, his ex, Ruth, and fresh chrysanthemums and roses.
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