More than 70 years have passed since the Sept. 21, 1938 blow, also known as “The New England Hurricane” or “The Long Island Express,” wreaked havoc on the Ocean State. But to paraphrase the Alan Alda character in Woody Allen’s “Crimes and Misdemeanors,” tragedy + time = musical. The hottest show to come out of this year’s New York Musical Theater Festival is “Hurricane,” the story of a storm, a weatherman that nobody listened to and the Rhode Island village of Napatree, which ended up being obliterated.
“Hurricane” is based on news accounts, anecdotes and books written about the storm. The show features scenes of Depression-era New England life with music ranging from traditional sea chanties and folk songs to chorales, lullabies and a turn-of-the-previous-century waltz. Think of it as a hip-shaking, toe-tapping “Our Town” meets “The Perfect Storm.”
While the play’s Rhode Island-ness is a mix of fact and fiction, some of the early critics have some catching up to do to establish their Rhody cred. One review featured on the musical’s Web site states: “While the original storm has been forgotten, this show should not be.”
Forgotten? In a state where everyone still gives directions to the red bridge, which hasn’t been red and was actually demolished as a bridge almost 40 years ago? No, I don’t think so. Seventy years isn’t long enough for a Rhode Islander to forget a hurricane that quite literally changed the puzzle-piece shape of the state and helped stamp our identity as hopeless storm worriers grounded in the knowledge that behind every snowflake lies a new opportunity for bureaucratic incompetence.
When the Hurricane of ’38 hit Narragansett, Benjamin Curtis Jr. was 12 and living at The Dunes Club, which got destroyed. The next day was his birthday.
“I remember one thing my uncle said: ‘People down there,’ meaning the Pier, ‘they’re drowning like rats.’
Not all of the news was tragic, though. Some of the monkeys that survived the storm escaped the monkey pit at Rocky Point Park and spent the rest of their lives in the woods and suburbs along Warwick Neck. There are still Rhode Islanders who remember feeding the monkeys on the way to the amusement park. And when the venerable Lobster Pot restaurant in Bristol was destroyed by the hurricane, 10,000 pounds of live lobsters earned a reprieve from the boiling pot, escaping the menu to return to the bay.
Speaking of Rhode Island storms: If someone made a musical of the Blizzard of ’78, what songs would make the soundtrack?
Some suggestions:
“Welcome to Rhode Island (Closed for a Week)”
“Milk and Bread”
“I-95 Where Are You?”
“Stranded at Benny’s (Love Among the Glue Guns)”
“Why Does the Snow Always End at the Massachusetts Line?”
“There’s Never Any School in Foster-Glocester (Salty’s Lament)”
“Sledding to Almac’s”
“My Kingdom for a Front-Loader (The Governor’s Song)”
“Milk and Bread (Reprise)”
“The Dead Are Sleeping On The Roof Tonight (The Coffin Song)”
