Visitors at Fort Worth Mayfest forced to flee, seek shelter

By Lynn Lunsford Staff Writer of The Dallas Morning News  
Published May 6, 1995

FORT WORTH - Thousands of visitors to the city's annual Mayfest were caught Friday evening in a hailstorm of almost "biblical" proportions that injured more than 200 people.

The storm descended on the festival-goers at Trinity Park early in the evening as many already were heading to their cars. The gray sky turned an ominous black and a light rain started spitting hail about 7:15 p.m., sending people running toward trees for cover.

Within five minutes, the hail grew to almost 4 inches in diameter, witnesses said. "All of a sudden, it was like you were caught in a rock slide or something," said Emilio Gonzalez, 19, of Fort Worth. "All I could think of was getting someplace out of all of this mess."

"This was biblical," said Amy Pinkerton, 34, who was working in booth at Mayfest when the storm hit. "It wouldn't have surprised me after this to see Moses standing on a rock somewhere."

Fort Worth police officers E.B. Adcock and W.C. Holbert were patrolling at Mayfest when the hailstorm hit. They said they gathered about 10 to 15 children together and tried to shield them with their own bodies when the hail became too large to dodge.

"The little punkins kept wanting to raise their heads up because they were scared," Officer Holbert said, "and I'll never forget it as long as I live, but this one little boy just kept saying, `Please, God. Please, God. Please, God . . ."

Police Sgt. D.R. Draper said officers who had been patrolling at Mayfest broke down the doors of a nearby National Guard Armory, where an emergency triage was established.

From the armory alone, 19 patients were taken to Fort Worth-area hospitals, with injuries ranging from cuts and bruises to more serious head injuries, said Dan Brunner, operation supervisor for MedStar ambulance service.

"There were so many people who were hit by hailstones and who had cuts on their heads and arms that they had to sort out who was hurt worst," he said. Sgt. Draper said he had heard unconfirmed reports that some small children may have suffered critical head injuries.

More than 200 people were huddled on the bleachers inside the Billingsley Field House near one of the festival's main parking lots, where many of them received first aid for minor cuts and bruises.

The parking lot was crowded with dozens of cars that had their windows smashed out and that had sustained extensive body damage.

U.S. Rep. Pete Geren, D-Fort Worth, was in the crowd with his wife and children when the hail started falling. He said they ran into their brother-in-law who was driving a station wagon "in the nick of time."

"The windows were exploding in all the cars around us and there was no way anybody could see to drive," said Mr. Geren.

Mr. Geren said he believed that there would have been more injuries in the park if it had not been for the enormous number of trees that provided shelter from the hail.

Many festivalgoers had gone to see their children and friends perform at the festival.

Tara Foshee, 14, had gone to watch her friend Erin Dugan.

The girls went to the armory after learning that Erin's mother had been injured by the hail. She was taken to Harris

Methodist-Fort Worth hospital for treatment.

Tara said that during the storm she and "what seemed like a million people" huddled under the awning of a building. "It was like a concert or something," she said.

The widespread hail also pummeled Harris hospital. Hail shattered a glass canopy that arched across the hospital's main driveway, leaving piles of broken glass littering the drive.

Inside, patients had to move away from windows, and in one wing more skylights were broken by the hail. "It was literally hailing in the hospital," said nursing supervisor Marie Chilton.

No patients were injured by the hail while in the hospital.

The hospital set up a special area to wash glass from the bodies of patients who were brought in for treatment. The patients included motorists who were injured when their windshields were blasted out by hailstones.

"This fell out of a patient's pocket," said one hospital official as she tossed a tennis ball-size chunk of ice into a trash can. "He said it had already melted a lot."

So many lights were knocked out of Fort Worth's distinctive lighted skyline that the lights remaining looked like a smile with broken teeth.