The Galveston County Daily News

At the time I was employed as a secretary in the Surgeon’s Office, Central Flying Training Command, Randolph Field, Texas. The office where I worked was in the former officers quarters, quite near a runway.

During my childhood I had spent many happy times in Galveston. Quite a few friends and relatives lived here and I was a frequent visitor.

At times there were storm warnings and once or twice I had experienced a tropical disturbance.

The preparations made at such times by the aunt I usually visited involved much moving of plants, nailing up, closing of shutters, purchasing extra food, etc. In downtown Galveston the plate glass windows were taped and boarded. An air of excitement prevailed when a coastal storm approached.

Radio Station WOAT, San Antonio, briefly reported the storm’s advent. San Antonians paid no attention whatever to the information.

My sister, a friend from Galveston and I all remarked on the lack of preparation as compared to the scurrying around we had seen in Galveston.

One day before projected landfall the Air Corps began evacuating planes from coastal installations — Ellington Field, Foster Field, the naval station at Beeville.

Facilities at Brooke, Kelly and Randolph Fields were filling up rapidly, the hangars stacked as tightly as possible.

The commanding officer at Randolph Field then began sending planes on to facilities in West Texas, New Mexico and Oklahoma. Still the planes kept coming.

On the way to work the morning of the storm, the bus I used made its way through downtown San Antonio.

The wind was picking up and rain bands beginning to pass through. Not a window was boarded or taped.

At my office duties went on as usual. In the file room the sergeant major in charge had a small radio and kept the office staff posted on developments. My co-worker from Minneapolis was very agitated — she had never experienced such a blow in her life.

The wind increased in velocity and the rain pounded down, at times so heavy it was like a curtain.

Efficiency in the office deteriorated and almost everyone was glued to a window or door.

A call came in for all enlisted men and officers below field grade to report to Hangar B. The men put on heavy weather gear and left the office.

The electricity went off and although our typewriters and other machines were manually operated, it was too dark to see enough to use them.

We clustered around the west windows which faced the flight line and I saw a sight I shall never forget. Time had run out and a number of the larger planes were parked on the runway.

To keep them from being wrecked, scores of men were hanging on to the leading edges of the wings.

With every heavy wind gust, the huge plane would swing about, the men trying to keep her on the ground swung with it — their feet well above the runway.

There were no injuries at Randolph Field that day, only overturned trees and shrubs and a lot of very wet and weary men from the Central Flying Training Command.

And a lot of broken glass in downtown San Antonio.

Inez R. Lasell Galveston