Metal Roof, Pelting Rain

As the outer bands of steady rain begin to reach us, I'm thinking back. Hurricanes? I've had a few. We had just gotten back into the new school year grind, when Hurricane Donna, similar to our Irene, came roaring up the East Coast. On the day it was to hit, we were released early from school, and on the walk home we all agreed that attempting to survive it 20 feet up in our just-completed, best designed treehouse ever would be our next great accomplishment. Some of the creature comforts, never before seen in our neighborhood, were a partial rope ladder for security purposes( to keep girls and other unwanted visitors out), a first and second floor, two windows with canvas curtains, a very small wood stove (yes, you heard me correctly, a woodstove) for winter warmth (see, we were truly on the cutting edge), and rugs on both levels. Soon after arriving home around noon, we headed up loaded with provisions, basically cigarettes, our pipes and tobacco. I do remember the pelting rain and the tree really beginning to sway dramatically when we all thought we could detect another human voice. We were not wrong! Looking down, out the window in the pouring rain, I could barely make out the form of Leo's mom in her yellow slicker and hear her screaming for us all to get down and high-tail it home or she was calling our parents. Under our breath, as we made our way down the ladder, we all cursed her and told Leo that his mom was an roaring idiot. But, you know, she probably saved the lives of seven boys that afternoon. The demise of that structure? The next day while we were at school that gal, Georgette, made her way up the ladder with her axe and single handedly took that treehouse down in about 15 minutes. All that remained was a huge pile of lumber at the bottom. What did we boys learn that bone-drenching afternoon? Something Aesop would have been proud to tell.

*Moral of the story: during wild, news-making hurricanes, don't mess with moms!