Late summer, 1998:  The rain was whipping up outside my office windows.  Hurricanes rarely impact Philadelphia, but this one slammed into the mid Atlantic states and the affects were felt all over the northeast.  Our biggest concern?  The phone system used a microwave link-up to its CO, which was only a few blocks away, but every time it rained the whole thing seemed to wink out.  Very handy, especially for a newspaper.  After fielding internal calls all day from (understanding) yet angry and frustrated writers and salespeople I was ready to call it quits for the night.  Eventually the rain would stop, right?

I donned my raincoat and with my umbrella in hand I ventured out into the damp, windy twilight.  Walking through Independence Mall I noticed the lack of anyone on the streets, which wasn’t surprising as it was a HURRICANE outside.  I crossed the square by the statue of Commodore Barry and approached the corner of 6th & Walnut.  If any of you live in this area or have reason to know this corner you will understand when I say the ‘wind tunnel was blasting at full force.’  The way the buildings are situated in this particular place produces strong gusts on even mild Spring and Summer days.  Today there were tiny tornadoes of water forming and spinning off into the street in all directions.  I looked up and saw one lone pedestrian.  “This is going to be a shame, ” I thought.