Mobile homes destroyed, chickens free on Marshland Road post-Matthew

Marshland Road home, Hilton Head Island, Oct. 9, 2016.
Marshland Road home, Hilton Head Island, Oct. 9, 2016.

Rescue worker Karen Glover wasn't surprised to see a hungry dog on Marshland Road on Sunday after Hurricane Matthew.

In fact, she was counting on it.

With a wide smile, Glover reached into the back of her car and pulled out a can of wet food and a spatula to spoon it out. Glover was spending the day driving the north end of the island, dropping off food for animals and chatting with other locals who'd stayed behind for the storm. She says she even noticed a gas tank leaking in one area and helped alert emergency management.

"It's a good thing I was there," she said with a laugh.

Though some strays were on the streets, the dog Glover met at the 201 Marshland Road mobile home park hadn't been left behind. It belonged to a resident who stayed on the street, hunkered down in his fragile home, through the hurricane.

He woke to find a tree resting on his house.

"Did you see the tree?" he said to a reporter walking the neighborhood.

It was hard to miss.

Another house on the street fared even worse.

A massive oak tree uprooted and fell violently on the middle of a mobile home, crushing the roof inn and knocking it sideways off its foundation.

Water gushed from a hose or pipe under the base of the tree, worsening the flooding.

In the debris outside the house was a pair of new-looking sneakers, a golf club and a school notebook. Two grills had been knocked over — a black, rusted one on the ground and a plastic, children's toy a few feet away on the porch.

On the next street over, Julia Drive, there were some very loud, energized survivors on Sunday.

A few chickens and roosters had escaped from a backyard coop, though they stayed close to the others that were still enclosed in their wire cages. Usually covered by a green tarp, the sights and sounds of the hurricane appeared to have frazzled some of the birds.

The roosters were still crowing every few seconds around midday Sunday.

Rebecca Lurye: 843-706-8155, @IPBG_Rebecca