Hurricane Gilbert devastated Jamaica on September 12, 1988, leaving 45 persons dead, losses estimated at over $22 billion, and an indelible mark on those who experienced its fury.

So destructive was Gilbert’s impact that then Prime Minister Edward Seaga, on an aerial tour of the island, commented that the country resembled Hiroshima after the dropping of the atom bomb that ended World War II.

Placing in perspective the time that has elapsed, Jamaica’s home-grown sprint phenomenon Usain Bolt was a mere two-years-old when Gilbert struck. Time, however, has not removed memories of the harrowing event etched on the minds of many.

In paying homage to the fury of Gilbert, which has been designated the second most intense hurricane of the century by meteorologists, the name has been retired and never will another hurricane be so named.

Gilbert attained category five rating after leaving Jamaica and at times packed winds of up to 180 miles per hour on its journey to the Yucatan peninsula in Mexico.

Extensive data on Hurricane Gilbert was, however, lost after a fire at the Met Office in 1992, reveals Jackie Spence, officer in the climate branch at the office.

But even without statistics, she vividly remembers the ordeal as a young child in Clarendon.

“I missed the first week of high school,” she recalls. “The school lost its roof, it was about a month after that we had full classes.”

“For me it was exciting, that was my first experience of a hurricane,” she says, then quietly adds, “I wouldn’t want it to happen again.”

Hurricane Gilbert struck Jamaica approximately 9 o’clock Monday morning, 37 years after Charlie – the only other hurricane to make landfall on the island in the twentieth century.

There was an eerie calm before Gilbert, rated at category three, began its destructive trek across the centre of the island, starting in St Thomas at the eastern end.

When it was through eight hours later, Jamaica – from Morant Point to Negril – was in shambles. Nowhere was spared the onslaught.

Life was not merely disrupted. It came to a standstill.

In Kingston, there was unobstructed view along the Washington Boulevard from Six Miles to Molynes Road.

Trees were flattened and strewn across the roadways, utility poles broken and uprooted, perched at varying angles all around the debris-cluttered city. The entire island remained without electricity for weeks, some places even months, as Jamaicans resorted to a diet of tinned food and the odd ground provision while farmers counted their losses.

“I was wiped out,” says Michael Black, operator of Nutts River Farm in St Thomas. “We lost 44,000 coconut trees.”

Black says that with the help of the Coconut Industry Board and dried nuts spared by Gilbert, he was able to take the painful route of replanting.

Islandwide damage to crops and livestock was extensive. But while the hurricane severely affected the agricultural sector, the impact on the housing sector was incredible.

Roofs of houses, as well as commercial buildings, were removed at will by Gilbert’s ferocious winds.

According to information from the Office of Disaster Preparedness and Emergency Management (ODPEM), it is estimated that 55 per cent of the total housing stock was affected, with some 100,000 houses of the low-income category suffering damage costing in excess of US$558 million (approximately J$3 billion in 1988).

Estimates vary, but damage to the tourism sector, which saw over 80 per cent of the hotels suffering losses, was placed at approximately $431 million, according to ODPEM figures.

Every sector of the economy was disrupted, from housing to tourism to transportation.

Trevor Heaven, a petrol station operator in Mandeville, recalls events in the mid-island town in the aftermath of Gilbert. “That was something else. A lot of us were devastated by the type of damage that was done,” remarked Heaven. “I don’t think there was anyone in Jamaica that did not suffer one way or another.”

“I was the only one that had petrol in the area,” he recalls, adding that gasoline had to be rationed.

“I went from five gallons to two gallons per person,” says Heaven. “I remember the lines that used to be formed. At nights we had to use just one single bulb in order for the small generator to run the gas pumps,” he adds.

Heaven remembers clearly the rush of removing satellite dishes and the anticipation as people awaited the hurricane. Then the mopping of water, the chopping of fallen trees and clearing of rubble afterwards.

There was one disturbing situation, he says, relating to the distribution of zinc that was donated to Jamaica as a relief effort. “There were people who needed it and got none, while others who never needed it stored it away and tried to sell it later,” says Heaven. “That was very disgraceful.”

There was, however, some good coming out of the Gilbert experience.

“What I found in our area was a strong community spirit that came to the fore. After the storm everybody was helping each other to recover,” says Heaven.

But even with the exemplary community spirit, police reports at the time said that during the height of the hurricane, unscrupulous persons were helping themselves to appliances and furniture from stores damaged by the wind.

Businessman Sameer Younis, who operated stores in Cross Roads and Half-Way-Tree in 1988, remembers the damage caused by Gilbert in the shopping districts, but adds that he suffered no looting.

“It hurt business badly, by the time we got back light, it was about three weeks after,” said Younis.

“We had a lot of damage, roof off, water all over but there was no looting,” he added. “None of our shops were looted.”

Gilbert nonetheless left many in distress – even spawning the average clause from insurance companies that saw homeowners being compensated for only a fraction of the assessed damage to their property.

But the devastating hurricane also led to the creation of a gem by singer Lloyd Lovindeer. His hit single Wild Gilbert encapsulated the event in humour and helped Jamaicans live through the ordeal while poking fun at the horrid experience..