Standing in a hurricane

Once upon a time, I was 8 years old. Many many years ago. I lived in Upstate New York. In Binghamton, NY. And I went outside and stood in a hurricane. Hurricane Hazel, a monster storm. It was a Category 4. With winds strong enough to knock me down. Or literally blow me away (at 8-years-old, I didn't weigh a lot). It was a hurricane with conditions dangerous enough to kill me, with flying debris, or flooding.

I was 8 years old, and curious to see and feel what standing outside in a monster hurricane was like. I found out. I stood in it until the wind threatened to knock me down, or lift me off my feet and carry me away. Then, not wanting to die, I went back inside the house.

In its aftermath, here's what the hurricane looked like.

How bad was it?

From the 'Ithaca Voice', "In Binghamton's Broome County, 20,000 people were forced to flee their homes, while downtown Binghamton was buried under feet of murky brown water. 95 percent of Owego (20 miles away) was underwater, as the Susquehanna River topped its banks. 7,000 properties were damaged. Property losses in Broome and Tioga Counties alone totaled nearly a billion dollars, and two people lost their lives."

Once upon a time, I was 8-years-old. Standing outside in a huge hurricane. A deadly hurricane. An epic hurricane. 8-years-old, I went outside and stood in one of the biggest strongest hurricanes ever. It was scary. It was dangerous. It was stupid. It was cool.

I survived.