Hurricane: Jamar's Story by Headline Books / Zoom Into Books

“Hurricane: Jamar’s Story reflects the best of the humanities through the eyes and words of a child—storytelling, local culture, human connection, and working together through adversity. Jamar shows readers that children have stories to tell, and how they can share them simply, yet powerfully.” —Carolyn Allen, Program Officer, North Carolina Humanities Council “Hurricane is a true depiction of the spirits and strength of a people and a culture during one of the most horrific times in their lives. As a native New Orleanian, this book brought back memories. Certain parts conjured tears; however, it offered an ending full of hope that every child will appreciate. New Orleans is a city built upon music; it lives in our souls and carries us through any storm. Hurricane captures that.” —Davondra I. Brown, MEd., Hurricane Katrina Survivor HURRICANE: JAMAR’S STORY

“As a life-long resident of the east coast, hurricanes are part of my life. When hurricane season begins, coastal residents begin keeping a vigil with one eye on the tropics and the other eye on their preparedness checklists. Authors Lynn Salsi and Joe Campbell have broken down these seasonal rituals from a child’s perspective in Hurricane: Jamar’s Story. Jamar, a child of elementary age, relates his family’s readiness and experiences when facing a hurricane. He communicates his story with respect and confidence in his family’s past encounters and relies on them for his safety and courage to face a most dangerous situation. Salsi and Campbell have written a book that every child living where a hurricane may strike should read.” —Connie Mason, North Carolina Historian and Folklorist Lynn Salsi, MFA, author of 19 books and English professor, is the recipient of many writing awards, including an American Library Association Notable Book Award and a Pulitzer Prize nomination. She is known for her storytelling and knowledge of the ancient tales of America’s first settlers.

Award-winning author and illustrator Ashley Teets earned a B.F.A focusing on visual art with a minor in creative writing. Graduate work includes West Virginia University, Simmons College satellite graduate program at the Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art in Amherst, Massachusetts. She holds a Masters in Arts Administration through the University of Kentucky. Ashley is also a portrait artist, muralist and art instructor. For more information visit www.AshleyTeetsIllustration.com.

LYNN SALSI AND JOE CAMPBELL

Joe Campbell, MFA, has served with the Peace Corp and has worked with youth through sports and education programs. He earned an MFA from Seton Hill University in writing popular fiction and served as director of the Foster Grandparents program in Houston. He enjoys writing for youth.

Lynn Salsi & Joe Campbell | illustrated by Ashley Teets

Lynn Salsi and Joe Campbell illustrated by Ashley Teets

Hurricane: Jamar’s Story by Lynn Salsi and Joe Campbell illustrated by Ashley Teets copyright ©2018 Lynn Salsi and Joe Campbell All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents, except where noted otherwise, are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any other resemblance to actual people, places or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Headline Books. To order additional copies of this book, or for book publishing information, or to contact the author: Headline Kids P. O. Box 52 Terra Alta, WV 26764 Email: mybook@headlinebooks.com www.headlinebooks.com Ashley Teets—Art Director Lucas Kelly—Design/Layout Published by Headline Books Headline Kids is an imprint of Headline Books ISBN-13: 9780938467885 Library of Congress Control Number: 2014941361

P R I N T E D I N T H E U N I T E D STAT E S OF A M E R IC A

For Susie (L.S.) Ivory J. Brown and David Campbell (J.C.)

“The hurricane has been down-graded to a tropical storm. If you are unprepared or live in a low-lying area, evacuate or move to a shelter,” the television weather reporter says, as Pops and I watch from the sofa. Big Mama rocks back and forth shelling peas, unconcerned a storm is coming. I slide close to Pops. “I know what that means. Our teacher taught us about storms, wind, and floods and how to be prepared for emergencies.” “Don’t worry, Jamar, a tropical storm will bring wind and rain, but nothing like a hurricane.” Pops pats my shoulder. “We are prepared and will help others when it’s over.” “We read about hurricane wind in class. How strong do you think it will be?” “There’ll likely be power outages and some flooding. Strong wind drives ocean water on land,” Big Mama says. “That’s why we have plenty of food, water and batteries for our radio and flashlights,” Pops says. “And houses in our community are built to withstand wind. Now, go out play, and I’ll phone Uncle Ronnie to help us get things in order.”

“Stay close, Pops may need your help,” Mama calls from the kitchen. “Okay.” I grab my ball and run outside. The sky is clear. I can’t believe a storm’s coming, because there’s not even a drop of rain. My friend Yoel is across the street holding plywood against a window, while his dad hammers it. “Let’s play catch,” I holler. “I can’t. Gotta help. We’re going to Granny’s house. Anyway, we won’t have school for a few days, and she likes for us to visit.” I watch him help stuff things in their car. Most neighbors are staying. Living on the Atlantic coast means hurricane season is to us what earthquakes are in California, blizzards in New York, and tornadoes in Oklahoma. My teacher says most natural disasters are weather related. Sounds of hammering fill the air. Our neighbor, Mr. Moore, helps Pops move furniture off our front porch. They talk about plans for tomorrow, when the storm’s over. Still it’s nothing like the usual place where neighbors gather on our porch to talk and play music. The wind lets out a howl, and I run inside.

“Yoel’s mom has family only twenty miles away, but we’ll be fine. We’re prepared,” Mama says when I walk in the kitchen. “Let’s eat supper.” She places a plate of boudin balls on the table. “Baby, I made your favorite.” “We’ll listen to the weather,” Pops says. “Yesterday it was a Cat 1 hurricane. Now it’s losing strength and is a tropical storm. That’s good news.” “I helped set up a shelter at Jamar’s school for people who need help.” Uncle Ronnie says as he comes in and sits at the table. “I’ll help you and stay over tonight.” “I hope there won’t be flooding,” Mama says. “It creates a mess.” “There’s always some in low areas,” Big Mama says. “Even if water reaches our first floor, we’ll be safe,” Pops says. “Jamar helped me put plenty of water and food upstairs.” I help Big Mama wash and dry dishes. Pops rolls up the blue rug. “Now, Jamar, unplug everything, and put chairs on the counter.” Uncle Ronnie helps put the lawn mower on the table. “The lawn mower belongs in the shed, “I say. “It’s new. Our garden shed won’t stand a chance if the wind reaches 75 miles per hour,” Pops says. “Take this upstairs,” Mama hands me a box of candles. “While you’re there, fill the bathtub with water. We may need it for washing hands and flushing the toilet.”

Upstairs, piles of pillows and blankets nearly cover the bed. Family photo albums, usually on the living room shelf, are stacked on the chest. Mama always gathers her favorite things when there’s a storm warning, which comes often during hurricane season. Pop’s saxophone, his cherished possession, rests on a stool. He and Uncle Ronnie perform at festivals. They’re teaching me to play, but I still like to play my harmonica. I pat my pocket making sure it’s there. “Jamar, be sure the windows are closed, then come help us lock the hurricane shutters,” Uncle Ronnie calls. I check them and run downstairs.

“Hurry,” Mama opens the door and calls, “the weather radio’s sounding a warning and announcing shelters are open for people who don’t have transportation or who don’t have water and food.” Big Mama doesn’t seem worried, but my heart beats in my throat, as I check things off the hurricane preparedness list we received at school. “Let’s hope our cars don’t go under water like in Camille,” she says. “Who’s Camille?” I ask. “A hurricane when I was only a tiny baby,” Pops says. “We sat up all night, but we came through just fine,” Big Mama says. I fall asleep on the sofa listening to adults talk about past storms they remember.

Howling wind and rain wakes me. “We’re getting a strong gale,” Pops says. “It’ll soon take down power lines.” “Now’s the time to get comfortable upstairs,” Mama says. I crawl on the bed and nearly bury myself in pillows. Mama gets quiet, and I hope she’s not worrying. Big Mama leans back in her chair. She looks calm as she prays.

When the electricity goes out, Mama lights two candles. “Take one to Pops. We’ll save batteries and use flashlights only when needed.” As I walk to the other bedroom, I watch the candle flame dance on the hall walls. Spooky, I say to myself. Uncle Ronnie and Pops have an old kerosene lamp glowing. “Cool. Here’s a candle. Mama wants us to save batteries and fuel.” “You’re just in time,” Pops says. “Ronnie and I are about to jam.” “A hurricane jam.” I pull out my harmonica. “Music will take our minds off things, Uncle Ronnie says.” We play with feeling, even as sweat pours down our cheeks from lack of air conditioning. A loud noise causes Pops to grab a flashlight and go downstairs. “Come here,” he calls. Mama, Uncle Ronnie, and I look down the stairs and see Pops standing in ankle-deep water. “Not good,” Uncle Ronnie says, “Means our neighborhood has flooded.” “I was hoping not to have water in the house,” Mama says. “We’ll keep our fingers crossed that we don’t lose roof shingles,” Uncle Ronnie says. “Heavy rain means this is more than our usual frog-strangler.”

At dawn slivers of light shine through cracks in the shutters, and Pops peers out. “Wow! Our street’s flooded. Let’s get a better look.” He opens the trap-door in the closet ceiling, and we squeeze through into the attic. Birds perch in the rafters, taking shelter. “Lucky they’re here,” Uncle Ronnie says. “Mosquitoes and other insects carry diseases and breed in standing water. Birds will chow-down and keep them from infecting people.” Pops stands on an old wooden box to look out the gable opening. “This is like the flood in the Bible. We need Noah’s ark.” “It’ll soon subside,” Uncle Ronnie says. “Water flows out when the tide goes out. Let’s stay put while the rain passes over. That’ll give us time to be sure the wind won’t reverse and come back.”

We go back down. Pops and Uncle Ronnie open the shutters, allowing in air and light. “While we wait, let’s play some music.” Pops hands me his sax, and I blow the only tune I know—“When the Saints Go Marching In.” Mama and Big Mama smile and applaud. Pops pats me on the back. Soon, Pops lets me crawl back in the attic, my favorite place to play with Yoel. I look out the window.

Our street is now a dirty lake, and I watch roofs, advertising signs, garbage, lumber, tree limbs and parts of our garden shed float by as the water flows toward Core Sound. Mr. Anders and others are out in boats checking on neighbors. They yell, “Hal-lo, hal-lo! Is anybody home?” Our next door neighbor waves from his second floor window. “We’re fine!”

“Jamar, come down,” Big Mama calls. “I’m making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.” I climb down and wash my hands in bath tub water. Big Mama and Mama put out cereal bars, apples, sandwiches, Vienna sausages, and bottled water. While adults talk about what they’ll do next, I wish I had a glass of lemonade with ice and wonder what my friends are doing. Soon we hear footsteps on our front porch, and Mr. Anders yells, “Hello! Hello! Are you home? The Moores need our help!”

Mama, Pops, Uncle Ronnie, and I get in Mr. Anders’s boat. He paddles us through the flood water to the Moore’s. We rush into their house and see a dolphin trapped in a few inches of water in their living room. “Thank goodness you’re here,” Mrs. More says. “The tide swept him in, but he’s still alive.” “We need your help to move him,” Mr. Moore says. “He’s at least five feet long,” Pops says. “Think of what he must weigh,” Uncle Ronnie adds. “We need a way to carry him,” Mama says. “Anything flat will do, “Mr. Anders says. “I’ll look outside.” He returns with a door, unhinged from a shed by the storm. “Now, to get him on it.” Pops says. “He’s slippery.” I look around. “How about a curtain?” I point to blue draperies. “Perfect!” Mrs. Moore jerks one down.

As the adults carry the dolphin, I walk along beside them and talk softly. “Poor thing. Don’t worry. We’ll get you back to your family.”

Outside it’s odd not to see people playing ball and sunning themselves. Nearly to the water, two Army Reserve soldiers helping with cleanup, run over, and help lower the door into the water. The dolphin floats, but doesn’t move. No one speaks. We watch and hope. Suddenly, he swims around me and then swims away. We watch him swim out of sight. I can’t wait to tell my teacher and all my friends the best thing that’s ever happened after a storm.

Natural Disaster and Hurricane Facts

Natural disasters caused by weather related systems include hurricanes, typhoons, cyclones, tornadoes, blizzards, and hailstorms. Each forms in a specific place in the world, during a certain time of year. Hurricanes, known as tropical cyclones, are the most violent storms on earth. Hurricane season is between June 1st and November 30th. Hurricanes are identified in categories from 1 to 5. Category 1 is minimal with wind from 74-95 miles per hour. Category 5 is catastrophic and has winds over 155 miles per hour. Much damage is done by hurricane winds, which forces water onto land, causing flooding. Schools located near the Atlantic Ocean and Gulf of Mexico instruct students about hurricane dangers and preparedness. Many businesses distribute hurricane maps and check-lists as a service to customers. Parents and students are familiar with NOAA radio. They also view storm track maps online at www.nhc. noaa.gov. Many people stay at home or in a shelter. The National Hurricane Center (NOAA) urges residents to assess their preparedness before deciding to stay. Communities set up shelters to accommodate people who do not have transportation and may not be prepared. Police officers, fire-fighters, doctors, nurses, city administrators, news media personnel, shelter workers, and Red Cross volunteers stay to help with emergencies. No one is ever advised to stay in the path of danger. Evacuation announcements may come from officials for a tropical storm. Although the wind-strength may be less than hurricane winds, flooding remains a danger. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) sponsors Hurricane Preparedness Week each May as a way to remind coastal residents that hurricane season is approaching.

Jamar’s Teacher’s Lesson on Hurricane Preparedness

People in evacuation areas must assess risks and know their home’s vulnerability to storm surge, flooding, and wind. Families develop an emergency plan and put together a supply kit including: • Water and food for at least 3 days • NOAA radio, battery-powered radio, or hand-crank radio • Flashlights and extra batteries • A first-aid kit, along with needed prescription medication • Whistle to use as a signal • Can opener – not electric • Cell phone with solar charger • Duct tape and several plastic tarps For graphs, definitions, scientific information, and hurricane preparedness check-lists visit: www.nhc.noaa.gov.

LYNN SALSI AND JOE CAMPBELL

Lynn Salsi & Joe Campbell | illustrated by Ashley Teets