Isaac's Storm: A Man, a Time, and the Deadliest Hurricane in History

by Erik Larson

Mark Twain, merciless as always, parodied the government’s efforts: “Probable northeast to southwest winds, varying to the southward and westward and eastward, and points between, high and low barometer swapping around from place to place, probably areas of rain, snow, hail, and drought, succeeded or preceded by earthquakes, with thunder and lightning.”

The judge considered the case, pursed his lips, opened a couple of law books just to make sure his first bone-deep feelings about the case were correct, then issued his judgment: “Gentlemen,” he ruled, “I have examined the laws of the United States carefully and I do not find any law which says that a white man shall be punished for killing a Chinaman.”

An inefficient man, Taylor said, was like “a bird that can sing but won’t sing.”

The city exhibited a rare harmony of spirit. Blacks, whites, Jews, and immigrants lived and worked side by side with an astonishing degree of mutual tolerance.

She met her first black man. She was walking through a lovely stand of pine trees, when he appeared suddenly on the path ahead. “I got so scared that I just sat down, but he only said ‘Good Day’ and passed. He did not kill me.”

William B. Stockman, the local forecast official for Havana, who saw the people of Cuba and the Indies as a naive, aboriginal race in need of American stewardship.