On 63rd Anniversary of Hurricane Audrey a New Novel Depicts the Deadly Storm’s Fury 'Early Thursday' for REVIEW

CAMERON, LA / AGILITYPR.NEWS / July 25, 2020 / On the 63rd Anniversary of

Hurricane Audrey

A New Novel Depicts the

Deadly Storm’s Fury:

Early Thursday:

A War, A Hurricane, A Miracle!

Cameron, Louisiana -- A rich and sweeping fictional memoir, told through the voice of 12-year-old Walt LaCour, as he struggles to find himself and learn his true identity amid the backdrop of a terrifying and deadly Hurricane Audrey on the Cajun bayou in post-World War II Louisiana. June 27th marked the 63rd anniversary of one of the most devastating tropical storms to hit the coastal United States. “Early Thursday: A War, A Hurricane, A Miracle!” tells the story of a boy’s mostly idyllic life interrupted by the wrath of Mother Nature. Author Linda S. Cunningham was 9 years old during Hurricane Audrey and her father was the director of civil defense for the local parish. Based on her recollections, she delivers a powerful and moving portrait of the days and events leading up to and following the cataclysmic storm.

Twelve-year-old Walt LaCour has a happy, adventurous existence in the Cajun-French area of Cameron, Louisiana, where the way of life is filled with a joie de vivre. Growing up in the small town, young Walt is surrounded by a colorful and eccentric collection of family and friends. Included in this group is Walt Sr., an abusive and alcoholic father whose drunken rages lead to constant tension. The days before the storm are filled with vivid childhood adventures, community dances and the discovery of Walt’s mother’s diary that leads him to question who his real father is.

Once the storm hits, the focus of the book shifts to survival amid the chaos and destruction. Walt is able to avoid drowning and is rescued as he views the carnage of dead bodies all around him. As the writer of the memories, much later in his life, he is haunted by his hesitation to save his father’s life during the worst of the storm. Nearly 500 souls lost their lives from the hurricane. Those terrible memories would stay with Walt his whole life.

Walt’s narrow escape and subsequent search for love and meaning are essential parts of this epic novel. That includes an effort to save a friend’s Stradivarius violin from being stolen. Life-affirming and provocative, this novel is a window into the soul of one man’s quest for identity and resolution. It’s a gripping and unforgettable story that will stay with you long after you’ve finished the book.

“Powerfully written, this is a most impressive debut novel by an author of substance.”

Grady Harp, Top 50 Amazon Hall of Fame Reviewer

About Linda S. Cunningham: Linda S. Cunningham grew up in Lake Charles, Louisiana, where she experienced firsthand accounts of the 1957 Hurricane Audrey that killed nearly 500 people in Cameron, Louisiana. She and her family watched the devastation from their picture window when the hurricane hit. Her father served as Director of Civil defense for Calcasieu Parish and she heard many survival stories and saw the coroner’s pictures that lend authenticity to the novel. Ms. Cunningham has a B.A. in English and Creative Writing from the University of Houston. She also has a B.S. and M.Ed. in Health and Physical Education from McNeese State University in Lake Charles, Louisiana. She has won awards for screenwriting. She currently resides in Kingwood, Texas.

Early Thursday: A War, A Hurricane, A Miracle! ISBN-10: 1098304802, ISBN-13: 978-1098304805, BookBaby, 2020. Paperback $15.99, Kindle, $9.49, 290 pages. Available on Amazon.

Media Contact: For a review copy of Early Thursday: A War, A Hurricane, A Miracle! or to arrange an interview with Linda S. Cunningham, contact Scott Lorenz of Westwind Communications Book Marketing at scottlorenz@westwindcos.com or by phone at 734-667-2090. Follow Lorenz on twitter @abookpublicist

“Early Thursday” Excerpts

“Thinking back after all these years when I try to write about the storm of June 27, 1957, I remember the memories of my life when I was drowning – the meticulous reliving in a dimension with no time. I remember barreling over and over, a storming stone through the waves, and when I managed to come up for breath, I thought the wind would take my head right off my shoulders.”

“I marveled at the intricacies of a single oak leaf with its webbing thoroughfare of veins. I marveled at the leaf as a single, cyclical debris of a greater tree, and then I remembered the tree.”

“I grew up on the northern crescent of the Gulf of Mexico, a body of water in the shape of the human brain with the brain stem positioned at the Yucatan Strait.”

“The huge, live oak tree wore a mantilla of moss and muscadine vines – the perfect hideout for our fort. Papa marched a hundred paces across the yard with me trotting behind him. He stopped abruptly when we got to the tree. Papa was stunned.”

“It was early Thursday, before the sun, before the birds, before the hunger. I woke up to the sound of water sloshing under the house. I opened my eyes in the dark room and wondered what time it was.”

“They climbed onto the roof and crouched against the wind. The blast of wind in my face made me gasp. We crawled, groping over the pitched roof of the main house and stepped down to the flat roof of the washroom. The roofing shingles shredded our hands and knees and the saltwater added insult to injury.”

“I surmise that we are presented with two belief systems in life: one positive, the other negative. The first one is that everything is a miracle like the leaf with its webbing of delicate veins that I remembered when I was drowning. The other is that nothing is a miracle. Your choice. I chose the first, the miraculous. If the leaf is a miracle, then what am I?”

“I never understood boundless, yet I wanted to understand timeless. In this world, to think of those things was as futile as a dog chasing its tail that it would never catch; however, I love the dusty circle that it made in the effort. I took comfort in cyclical things: the change of seasons, the migration of the indigo and painted bunting in the spring.”

“ ‘I told you on the train that I would come back to you, and I kept my promise. I’m more alive now than ever. Love is the secret. It makes you live forever.’ “

“They were intrigued with the story of an idiot savant being a master violinist and playing one of the rarest and treasured violins in the world. They were both treasures to this world. A rare violin and an idiot savant who was a master violinist were a phenomena of two geniuses colliding in a moment of time.”

“Was this extreme beauty wasted on simple folks? No. We knew we were in the presence of the divine, and joyous we were. Eli knew that the music changed people because it softened their hearts so that they could love again.”

“Audrey was a hurricane that hit one time long ago, but time had been the hurricane that ravaged us all. Time was giver and taker. For me, time was the gift I received from the miracle of surviving the drowning. I had so much to show for that time.”

“On the beach that night, I fought the fight of my life, for my soul and my sanity. Johann helped me face my guilt and later through the sacrament of reconciliation, I could love myself again. I remembered Eli, how special he was, and I knew that God didn’t make mistakes.”