June 1, 1982
THE OLD MAYFAIR INN, now the Headquarters for New Tribes Mission had weathered many storms. Its windows had often rattled, and the walls reverberated as the crash of thunder peeled out from an angry sky. When the rumble ceased and the sun again shown upon the white stucco, the building would beam arrogantly that once more it had withstood the ravishing hands of nature. So it had always been, but, on the gray afternoon of April 8, 1982, the winds blew with such intensity that the building quaked to the very foundation.
The thunderstorm roared across the sky and, with a barrage of golf ball-size hailstones, strafed the city of Sanford, Florida. Borne on high winds, it fled to the east. In its wake, it dumped over 4 inches of rain and left a wide swath of shattered windows and broken debris.
After its rampage, the storm circled around. The sky was still overcast and darkened more as thunderheads were reunited. Lightning slashed jagged, blue scars down their faces. The land, the sky, the lake-everything was tinctured with an uncanny glow. A crescendo of crashing thunder taunted people’s hopes that the worst was over.
Two hours later, the second blast stormed out of the gray void and stomped across the watery expanse of Lake Monroe. The usually placid surface of the lake was churned into a disapproving sea of waves and whitecaps. Meeting no resistance, the tempest lunged towards shore with savage abandonment. Its breath reeked of destruction.
Abrupt and without mercy, nothing was exempt from the torrent of wind, rain, and hail that swept across the land. Palms bent their backs to the sadistic lash of the wind. Frozen shrapnel beat the leaves off trees and skinned the bark off the branches. The fury executed birds and squirrels without trial and dumped their bodies on the sodden ground. Flowers were mowed down in their beds by icy bullets. Gusty hands reached down and ripped shingles and tar paper from roofs and bashed in windows. Painted surfaces were riddled and exposed to the swelling rain. Through the paneless frames and exposed cracks poured tons of water.
For the first time since its foundation was laid, the old Inn could not boast. Its roof would need replacing as many tiles were broken and missing. On the west and north sides, screens had been ripped off, and 500 windowpanes had been shattered. Drapes were lacerated and dripping. Carpets were soggy and peppered with glass and other debris. Shades hung in tatters. Downstairs, two inside walls had been toppled, and a door was blown off its hinges. Water dripping down from floors above scribbled graffiti on ceilings and walls and softened sheetrock.
Other Mission buildings suffered the same fate. Across the street, Brown Gold Publications was devastated. A third of the roof had been blown away allowing tons of water to surge through the cracks. First and second floors were shallow lakes, and from them, piles of paper stock, boxes of books, tracts, and magazines drank to their own ruin. The water dribbled down and splashed over cameras, typesetter-computer, presses, and other machinery. Ceiling tiles lay strewn about the floor in soggy chunks.
The Roberts building and the motel also told roof-raising tales of the gale. Both suffered broken windows and roof damage. The siding on a new addition to the motel was buckled and bent. Staff cars bore the mark of the storm. Most were pockmarked with dents. Some had broken windows, mirrors, and damaged radiators.
The thunder has ceased its rumbling. Instead, the walls now resound with the noise of pounding, scraping, chipping, and sawing. Crews of men tear out, mend, replace, patch, and rebuild. All the window frames must be prepared to receive new glass and screens. The second floor in the Publications building was buckled, and the sheetrock on the walls ruined by water. The place has been gutted, and reconstruction has already begun.
It is good to see the work progressing, and thankful hearts look on as Mission staff, groups from the Mission institutes, friends of the Mission, and crews hired by the insurance company spend their time getting things back to normal. Even a group from the Operation Mobilization ship, the Doulos, now anchored in Tampa Bay, came to give a hand. Everyone pitches in-men, women, and even children help clean up the grounds. There is laughing and joking despite tired bodies.
Spirits remain high, and attitudes are good. An unsaved contractor commented that he had never seen such good attitudes after such a loss.
Insurance will cover most of the main building loss. It will be $27.000 for new windows and screen alone. A new roof on “Pubs” will cost $15,000. The total figure for the damage may top $300,000. Each building has a $10,000 deductible, so there may be as much as $40,000 needed to be paid by the Mission. On top of that, there is personal loss in offices and apartments, including window shades, drapes, and carpets that are not covered by insurance.
The general office work continues as usual. Publications, of course, is at a standstill. It is hoped that by working around the debris, perhaps Brown Gold and the field papers can be turned out almost” on schedule. The presses got wet and need a good cleaning, but they are functional. The loss of material things is great, but there is an attitude of thanksgiving that no one was physically harmed. The stories of close calls are many. Spiritually, the whole ordeal has been a good reminder to look up and lay up treasure in Heaven. The things of Earth are temporal and erode and ruin before the unseen wind.
Pray with us for a soon recovery to our normal production in publications as well as completing all the repair on our facilities here at Headquarters.
FIN
Mission Related
- https://fillburns.com/2023/08/27/i-dont-believe-in-ghosts-but-2/
- https://fillburns.com/1981/08/21/diannas-miracle/
- https://fillburns.com/1986/02/23/indians-attack-missionaries/
- https://fillburns.com/2022/08/23/two-graves-two-destinies/
Writings By Phil 
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