When I awoke on the morning of 16 October 1987, it was to devastation across the country. Fortunately for me, it only meant a bin flung half-way down the street. But it was a significant time in my life – my relationship was in tatters and I didn’t know how to get out of it. A few months later, I had succeeded (with the help of his infidelity) in moving on and was travelling the world.
In 1988, I took a road trip across the States, met another man (which similarly ended disastrously) and moved to Hong Kong, albeit briefly.
The storm that raged on the night of 15/16 October 1987 was somehow pathetic fallacy for what was happening in my life and I guess that’s what often happens with great events, that they become very personal.
The storm that raged in my life was positive in the end and the pictures posted by the National Trust show how some of their land was hit badly, but has recovered. See the pictures here in a great piece from The Guardian.
Of course, there was real tragedy that night, 30 years ago – 18 people lost their lives and their families will remember today very differently. It’s a relatively small number, but sad nonetheless for every one of them.