Rex Forensic Weather & Hail Impact Report

Look, I’ve been putting roofs on homes in this part of the Sandhills for over twenty years, and if there’s one thing I can tell you about Rex, it’s that we’re sitting right in the bullseye for some of the nastiest weather in the state. You see, we’re tucked right where the coastal plain starts rolling up into the pine country, and that flat, open land acts like a runway for springtime thunderstorms. When those cold fronts come barreling down from the northwest and slam into that warm, sticky air that sits over the Cape Fear River basin, the sky just stacks up. We get these supercell storms that will drop hail the size of golf balls without a minute’s warning, and because there’s no mountain or big ridge to break them up, they just spin right over our neighborhoods, hammering every shingle in their path.

And it’s not just the hail, it’s the wind that comes with it. We’re far enough inland that we don’t get the full hurricane punch like Wilmington does, but we’re close enough that we catch the nasty right side of those storms when they push through in late summer and early fall. Those tropical systems lose their wind speed, but they don’t lose their gustiness—we’ll get straight-line winds that’ll rip a ridge cap clean off or peel back a whole section of decking like it’s a tin can lid. Plus, in the spring, those same thunderstorm cells that bring the hail also bring those sudden, violent downdrafts. I’ve seen 70-mile-an-hour gusts snap pine trees in half and send limbs flying right into roofs. It’s a one-two punch: the hail weakens the shingles, and then the wind finds that weak spot and lifts it right up. That’s just the reality of living here, and it’s why I always tell folks to check their roof after every big blow, because around here, it’s not a matter of *if* you’ll get hit, but *when*.