Buffalo- The Windy City

By jxmartin

Thu, 11 Jan 2024
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4 comments
 
Buffalo- THE WINDY CITY
 
As we walked along the banks of Cazenovia Creek, in West Seneca, the wind howled around us like a Banshee's wail. The water here is swift moving and clear. The vee, of tiny ripples, disturbed the surface of the creek only when flowing around the odd rock or obstruction in the stream bed. The leaves onshore whirled around us in miniature cyclonic eddies, like a special effect from the movies. It is Fall in Western New York. I pulled my coat tighter around me and leaned into the gale. It gets like this in Buffalo sometimes.
 
The blizzard winds, when they come, roar across the open expanse of Lake Erie with the force and fury of a rushing freight train. In times past, during some exceptionally heavy windstorms, I can remember seeing frail elderly people rolling along the downtown streets like tumble weeds. They try desperately to grasp onto light poles and mail boxes. The winds are strongest in downtown, around City Hall, on Niagara Square. Sometimes, it can become necessary to run a rope line from City Hall, to the Turner Parking Ramp across the street. The grim employees cinch along the lifeline, like victims caught in the flood of a raging river.
 
It is the sound that scares most people. With winds over 70 mph, the roar of the winds sounds like an angry lion. Huge Oak Trees sway from side to side in a frightful ballet. Anything not securely tied down is apt to fly away like Dorothy's house, in the Wizard of Oz.
 
 
Lake Erie's water surges forward, in great frothy whitecaps, as it smashes into the offshore sea wall with pulverizing intensity. It isn't unusual to see the ten ton caprocks, that crown the offshore breakwall, unseated like so many mini bricks in a toy game. A derrick and crane must reseat them, in the summer, when conditions are calmer.
 
Once, long ago in 1844, the winds created a " Seiche" that flooded much of the downtown waterfront area. Hundreds were washed away like flotsam on an angry sea. A seiche is sort of like tilting a cereal bowl, until the milk runs out of one side. Buffalo is on the "spilling side" of Lake Erie.
 
The scariest place to be, during these events, is on the elevated sections of the waterfront Skyway. Here, the wind smashes into a two thousand pound automobile with the force of a charging rhinoceros. If you don't hold onto the steering wheel, for all you are worth, you just might go up and over the retaining wall, for the 100-foot ride to the streets below. It is a daunting experience for the uninitiated. It really becomes interesting when a wall of sleet and snow accompanies the wind storm. Then, a gazillion horizontal slush balls pepper the vehicle like an angry version of a Space Invaders Video Game. It is during these moments, that you discover that there is a creator, or at least you hope that there is.
 
Afterwards, it is the quiet that startles one most. The lake waves are gentle and rhythmic. The birds waft upon the currents of air in a lazy and graceful minuet. The sun shines brightly and the sky is that dazzling azure blue that comes only after a rainstorm. It is a portrait of grace and tranquillity. You mentally shake your mind and wonder if the storm ever really happened at all.
 
The weather, in our neck of the woods, is a fickle great beast, with a will of its' own. Living with it, is like sleeping with a five thousand pound elephant. You become somewhat adept at anticipating its need to toss and turn.
 
30-
Joseph Xavier Martin

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

Certificate U
Non-fiction
BUFFALO STORIES - Joseph Xavier Martin
Talecatching

Comments

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

Sounds terrifying!

 

Submitted by jxmartin on

Difffcult, yes. But like everything else in life, you adjust and make do. By comparison, it certainly makes Florida a more welcoming and a softer life.

JXM

Submitted by jxmartin on

One of those monster storms that I wrote about is now approaching Buffalo, 65 mph winds, 2-4 feet of snow !

Submitted by jxmartin on

As we watched the national, televised coverage of the snow emergency in Buffalo this week, I felt an immense pride for the people whom I lived amongst for most of my life.
In the face of a massive snowstorm, Buffalo residents merely shrugged their shoulders, grabbed a shovel and dug themselves out. Most other communities in the nation would have been paralyzed for weeks, loudly moaning their misfortune and demanding massive state and federal assistance in their time of need.
God Bless all of the citizens in this wonderful region. They have the shared communal ethic of a people with pioneer roots, who are used to looking out for each other and then seeing how they could help out a neighbor. Stories of people digging out the Bills, so that they could play their game, were all over the national wires. The fine people of Buffalo and Western New York make me proud to have been one of them.
The weather has always been somewhat difficult in Buffalo during the Winter months. But, its adversity has bred a hardier people in Buffalo and Western New York, who can roll with the atmospheric punches and not only come up ready to help themselves, but to look out for others as well. How neat is that? It is what we used to call a Pioneer spirit in America, the ability to fend for yourself no matter what adversity comes at you and persevere.
Rock on you hardy citizens of Buffalo and Western New York! You set an example for an entire nation.