Storm’s fury turned deadly in a heartbeat

By the late 1920s, Charlottesville was enjoying all the advances of science and technology.

Electricity illuminated homes, telephones connected people near and far and motorized vehicles had all but replaced animals for transportation. But forecasting the weather still was largely limited to one’s range of eyesight and intuition.

On the afternoon of May 2, 1929, people throughout Charlottesville were picking up their copies of The Daily Progress. The first thing many readers scanned was the weather box in the upper right-hand corner of the front page.

The forecast simply predicted an early evening rain with cooler temperatures to follow. A story that ran nearly the entire length of the left-hand column of the front page gave something of an indication of what might be heading this way.

Mayhem on the move

The story reported destructive tornadoes tearing through states from Arkansas to Tennessee. Five people were reported killed in Arkansas alone, and widespread damage also was being done by hail and high winds.

Most local people were aware of the protective effect the nearby Blue Ridge Mountains often affords the area on its near-eastern slopes. The range also can serve as a buffer from high winds and even channel storms coming in from the west into a more northerly direction.

Still, when it comes to weather, there seem to be no absolute certainties. So on that May day in 1929, people kept their eyes on the darkening skies and waited to see what materialized.

The vigil ended around 7 p.m., when the first of two powerful storms slammed into the city. Torrential rains fell for several minutes, then stopped as quickly as they had started.

A second squall hit at 8 p.m., but unlike the first storm, this one was accompanied by booming thunderclaps and brilliant flashes of lightning. This storm also quickly passed over the city, and before long stars could be seen in the clearing night sky.

Third-round knockout

Most people probably thought it was all over, but the real destruction was about to begin.

The wind suddenly shifted to the west and soon was roaring through town at gale-force speeds.

The sound of breaking windows and large trees crashing to the ground were added to the howling fury of the wind itself. Bruce’s Carnival was in town, and it had been set up in Belmont.

The shows consisted mostly of large tents, which were totally destroyed. Some of the canvas structures were torn to shreds and others completely blown away. Drenched and shocked occupants foundered about as they searched for shelter.

No lives were lost, but the damage to the carnival was put at $3,000, which is about $30,000 today. Throughout the city, falling trees took out power and telephones lines.

The gale-force winds continued through much of the night. The full picture of the storms’ destruction started to become apparent at first light.

Power was out through most of the city, and downed trees and branches blocked traffic on some roads. As extensive as the damage was, the citizens of Charlottesville began counting their blessings as word started spreading about death and destruction in other parts of the state.

Local people started realizing just how fortunate they had been as the tragic story of what had happened in Rye Cove began to unfold. The small community tucked away in the western tip of Virginia turned out to have been the epicenter for the deadliest outbreak of tornadoes in the history of the Old Dominion.

Around noon on May 2, students and teachers were enjoying lunch recess at the Rye Cove Consolidated School. The two-story structure stood in an open field near the widest point of a valley.

About 155 students in elementary grades through high school were in attendance that day. The principal, A. S. Noblin, and his eight teachers were present as well.

Many of the pupils had opted to play outside after finishing lunch. When the bell rang for them to return to class shortly before 1 p.m., dark clouds were moving in quickly.

Miss Elizabeth Richmond’s students were just getting settled in when she happened to look out the window.

She immediately saw what she later described as “a bad storm coming up.”

Not wanting to alarm her high school students, the teacher didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had, because at that point a powerful tornado was almost upon them.

At that moment the principal of the school was walking along a hallway. When he looked outside he saw “a whirlwind coming up the hollow.”

By then trees were swaying to the point of snapping off. Apparently the tornado then picked up a large amount of dirt, because it turned a sinister black right before Noblin’s eyes.

The principal said later that he thought he yelled a warning, but couldn’t be sure.

The next thing he knew he was standing in a pond half a football field from where he had been.

The school had disappeared.

Next: Grief and remembrance.