Century stories

5.24.99
For Tiverton man, a harrowing brush with death

The Hurricane of '38 spawned a slew of astonishing tales of survival, not the least of which was the story of Richard A. Peckham, an attendant on the Stone Bridge over the Sakonnet River. Here is his story, as told by his son, the Rev. Ashley H. Peckham of Portsmouth.

By LINDA BORG
Journal Staff Writer

TIVERTON -- When Richard Peckham left home for his 3 p.m. shift, no one in Rhode Island knew there was a Class 3 hurricane barreling up the East Coast.

At most, residents were expecting a ''line storm,'' not the Storm of the Century.

As Peckham, a former merchant mariner, reached the drawbridge that linked Tiverton and Portsmouth, the first official hurricane warning was transmitted to the newsroom of The Providence Journal.

By then, the wind was starting to build, pushing the waves along with it. Sheets of rain blew in a horizontal line before the gale. Trees began to tumble. Power outages became widespread.

By 3:30 p.m., Peckham and his two fellow attendants began to realize that they had much more than a September blow on their hands.

Unbeknownst to them, the waters of Narragansett Bay, fueled by a flood tide and 121-mph winds, began to pile up in the narrow funnel that forms the Sakonnet Rver.

Before long, the river crested the bed of the drawbridge. His two men escaped to high ground, but, as captain of the watch, Peckham felt compelled to stay behind.

''Some say a monster wave came though,'' said the Rev. Ashley H. Peckham of Portsmouth. ''Remember, this bridge was only 10 or 12 feet above the river.''

By the time Peckham abandoned the bridge house, the roiling river was surging over the bridge deck, sweeping away everything in its path.

''He never made it off of the bridge,'' Mr. Peckham said. Instead, his father sought refuge in Burns Fish Market at the entrance to the bridge on the Tiverton side.

He wasn't the only one seeking shelter from the storm.

''My father was in the company of a rat,'' Mr. Peckham said. ''The rat could swim. My father couldn't.''

Suddenly, the building shifted under him, and both he and the rat were swept into the raging Sakonnet.

Those who had sought shelter in the Stone Bridge Inn could see Peckham peeking out of a tiny window as the hut was dragged across Tiverton basin toward the Railroad Bridge.

Minutes later, the hut washed ashore at the foot of the Railroad Bridge, on the Portsmouth side of the Sakonnet. As waves pounded the hut, it began to break up under his feet.

Peckham scrambled outside and began walking home, following the railroad tracks in the blinding wind and rain. When the tracks beneath his feet disappeared, he was forced to seek shelter in an abandoned summer cottage in Common Fence Point.

By nightfall, the storm had broken and the skies had cleared. Exhausted, Peckham spent the night in the cottage and waited until daybreak to begin his walk home.

By then, word was out that Peckham was missing, swept away by the storm tides. His wife Marjorie was sitting in her kitchen when her two brothers walked in and announced that Richard was presumed dead.

''Before my mother could react, my father walked in the door,'' Mr. Peckham said.

No one remembers what Richard and Marjorie said to each other. Maybe they were too dumbfounded or exhausted or stunned to say anything at all.

All Mr. Peckham knows is that his father didn't talk about the Hurricane of '38 for many years to come.

With reports from ''The Great Hurricane and Tidal Wave of Rhode Island,'' published by The Providence Journal.