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http://www.omniture.com --> Sections Home Page Local News AP News Archives Business Classifieds Event Calendar Forums Life Opinion Obituaries Photo Gallery Readers Photo Gallery Sports Tempo Weather Special Coverage 2006 Britt Festivals --> Shop Our Valley AutoFinder HomeFinder JobFinder Search Our Valley Special Sections Readers' Choice Homelife Magazine Joy Magazine Neighborhoods Employment Guide Oregon Golf Info Oregon Wine Info Other Publications Local Links Ashland News eSouthernOregon Newspapers In Education Personals Moving Here Movie Listings TV Listings Volunteer Customer Service Advertise With Us Media Kit Place Classified Ad Contact Us FAQ's Home Delivery Site Map --> Email Story to a Friend October 8, 2006 Green eggs and ham flew all over the place Dr. Seuss never stood a chance against Mother Nature when the two clashed back in 1962. Mark Kent remembers it all — the howling, the wailing, the green eggs and ham all over the place. "I was the kid who lived in the mobile home on the lower compound of the Union Creek ranger station during the 1962 Columbus Day wind storm," he recalled in a recent e-mail. He remembers reading the Seuss classic, "Green Eggs and Ham," the day the storm blew in. Kent dropped the cyberspace note after reading a Mail Tribune article focusing on a recent visit by former Union Creek district ranger Emil Sabol, now of Wilsonville, reminiscing about serving there in the early 1960s. Turns out that Dave Sabol, one of the ranger's sons, was one of Mark Kent's childhood chums. Advertisement That was the day when the barometric pressure plummeted to 28.99 at the Medford airport, the paper reported back then. An exceedingly low pressure system came screaming in off the coast. The ferocious storm battered Oregon, knocking down countless trees and cutting power and telephone lines. Picture a rowdy "Cat in the Hat" disheveling Oregon's house from coast to Cascade Range. But this was no mischievous kitty. Historians note the historic storm killed 38 people in the state and caused more than $200 million damage — in pre-inflation 1962 bucks. Like Kent, I was a youngster in Southern Oregon the day of the hellish storm. My home was in the equally small town of Kerby in the Illinois Valley south of Grants Pass. Back in 1962, Columbus Day was recognized on Oct. 12, falling on a Friday that year. Today, of course, it falls on the last Monday before the official anniversary of the landing in the New World. I recall catching the school bus under a dark and stormy sky that morning to Kerby Elementary School. But the howling winds outside the windows drowned out the voice of Mrs. Orton, my pleasant sixth-grade teacher. She kept making nervous glances at the growing maelstrom of leaves and limbs swirling around outside. But when chunks of the roof started blowing across the schoolyard like so many Frisbees, principal Bob Hambly figured enough was enough. Just as our school bus was pulling to stop in front of our house, an oak tree blew across Highway 199, its big limbs screeching like wooden fingernails against the back of the bus. "Praise the Lord!" screamed our bus driver. He was never too keen about the rowdy urchins in his rear view mirror, but he apparently didn't want any of us damaged under his watch. Yet the weekend in Kerby that followed without electricity was nothing compared to what was happening up at Union Creek. Rogue River National Forest officials at the time told the paper that the Union Creek area was one of the hardest hit in the region by the storm. Emil Sabol estimated that some 80,000 board feet of timber toppled around the district headquarters that day. Kent's father worked for the forest; his mom at Beckie's Cafe, renown for its huckleberry pie during the season. She was one of the two women who shot a bear early one morning when it came prowling around the cafe. "I can still remember eating some of the backstraps from that bear while sitting on my favorite stool at Beckie's," Kent wrote. But he wasn't thinking about bear backstrap that Columbus Day. "Blown down timber caused considerable damage to the Union Creek campground," read the Oct. 15 Mail Tribune. "One trailer was smashed at the ranger station ..." Mark Kent was in that trailer. "The mobile was cut in half by a giant sugar pine tree just moments after I had left my bedroom (the center of the trailer) where I was trying to read 'Green Eggs and Ham' to calm myself against the noise and ruckus of the storm," he wrote. He would tell you that even Sam I Am would have turned the color of green eggs watching the tall timber sway and snap in the wind whipping above the trailer. "The Prospect school library made my mom pay for the book," Kent concluded. "They wouldn't accept the excuse of being crushed by a tree." Perhaps a note from Dr. Seuss would have done the trick. Reach reporter Paul Fattig at 776-4496 or at [email protected] Would you like to respond to this story? If so Click Here to visit our forums. Advertisement Copyright © 1997-2006 Mail Tribune, Inc. All rights reserved. Privacy Policy | Terms & Conditions | Website Feedback online casinos news Home Security Systems Online Casino Reviews Men's Clothing GMAT Prep Fundraisers UK Homeowner Loans Discount Hotel Reservations Send Flowers Casinos Canada Texas Electric Choice Compare Electric rates in Texas Windermere Van Vleet Trunks, Footlocker Online poker at AbsolutePoker.com