Residents Remember the Devastating Fury of the Great New England Hurricane of 1938-September 21, 1978

Forty years ago today, on September 21, 1938, the “grandaddy of hurricanes” smashed headlong into the Rhode Island coast and unleashed its deadly fury across New England. While coastal cities like Providence, Westerly, and Boston bore the brunt of the storm, inland Norwood was not spared.

Local Memories of Destructive Winds and Near-Misses

Long-time Norwood residents vividly recall the terrifying force of the storm, which uprooted trees like flowers and sent debris flying through the streets. Among the most iconic local landmarks lost was the steeple of the old First Baptist Church—formerly located where Kline’s Department Store now stands—which was blown off and smashed to the ground.

Local residents shared striking recollections of that fateful day:

• Frank Wisgirda: Then a Northeastern University student and now a Norwood lawyer and planning board chairman, Wisgirda recalled boarding a 4:00 p.m. train out of Boston when “everything was fine.” By the time the train crept into Norwood Central, the air was choked with flying debris. Finding that a skylight had blown off his home, a youthful and fearless Wisgirda scrambled onto the roof to reinstall it, later remarking with a smile, “Why I wasn’t blown off, I don’t know.”
• Theodore A. Curtin: Then a boy delivering newspapers, Curtin initially mistook the storm for a regular “big wind.” The true magnitude of the disaster became apparent when he was able to walk the entire length of Hoyle Street entirely on fallen trees without ever touching the pavement.
• Robert Browning: Then a college student walking up Nahatan Street near Nichols Street, Browning recalled encountering a tragic accident involving someone who was accidentally electrocuted. Dismissing later storms like Hurricane Carol in 1954 and Hurricane Diane in 1955 as “no comparison” to the 1938 winds, Browning remembered students earning money cutting up downed trees across town.
• Tragic Incidents: Beyond property damage and inconvenience, residents recalled harrowing tragedies, including a young girl walking in South Norwood who was struck and killed by a flying roof, unable to hear warnings over the roar of the gale. On Lewis Avenue, groups of neighbors from seven or eight homes gathered inside the Lewis house, holding hands as the storm raged outside.

A Shared Community Ordeal

Though advanced warning was scarce—with many initially believing it was merely a severe squall—the 1938 hurricane left an indelible mark on the community’s collective memory. Reflecting on the aftermath, Browning noted that unlike modern blizzards, once the 1938 hurricane passed, the immediate danger receded, leaving behind a profound sense of unity.

“I think they were most alike in the fact they drew people together,” Browning observed, “in their common plight against nature and in commiseration. Everybody pitched in and helped—that kind of feeling.”

Archival Note: This article has been dynamically reconstructed from the original public record print archives of the Patriot Ledger