It's always a pleasure to visit with our son, so we packed our bags and made our way north, fully expecting to leave any possible danger behind. NOT. The storm of the century has followed us. Well, it's following us. It's still beating up the Bahamas as I write this. Waiting for hurricanes to make landfall feels like FOREVER, but once it hits, then it seems to rush right on by-unless it stalls. Typical of hurricanes, it's also following it's own time schedule.If memory serves, this will be the eighth hurricane we've encountered in the 21 years we've lived in Florida. Each is different. We also have been through a tropical storm. The only thing I remember about that is taking care of Sheila, our 10 week old puppy. At that time, I had the strangest prayer I've ever had and God answered! I asked the Lord to help Sheila make her deposit between rain bands and she did! I guess there are funny moments as well as serious ones. Scary ones and dangerous ones, too.
The first hurricane we encountered in our adopted state was Bertha in July of 1996. Our son's family had endured Erin the year before. The evacuation and endurance of Erin was enough to make him say he was staying home unless Bertha reached a category 3. We left, telling him we'd rather he laughed at our skittishness than us crying over his grave. Bertha steamed right on by, never reaching more than a category 1 and staying hundreds of miles off shore. We left in sunshine and returned in sunshine while our son continued to build the backyard playhouse for our granddaughter.
Irene hit somewhere in there, but she, too. was no real problem. We didn't even lose power, so we had our daughter-in-law and granddaughter over for a pizza luncheon because they'd lost power even though our houses were less than a mile apart. Different grids, I guess.
Floyd was the terrifying one. A monster storm, at times reaching a category 5. Fortunately, those strong winds can't be sustained for long period of time. He was a 3 when he hit the North Carolina coast. That one, we drove all the way to north Georgia to avoid it. Driving home was more annoying than any inconvenience of the storm. Radio personalities in Atlanta made the remark that there was no gas available on I-75 all the way to Savannah. I-75 doesn't go to Savannah! Worse, they thought it was funny. Idiots. Those poor people in North Carolina who'd fled to safety in Atlanta faced enough heartbreak when they returned. They didn't need overpaid jerks making light of their situation.
2004 was the year of the storms. Charlie hit the west coast of Florida. Shortly thereafter, Francis hit us. We spent the night in Shiloh's school, laughing and having a party while the storm raged outside. When a hurricane passes, the sky is such a bright blue, the grass and shrubs a sparkling green. Wires hanging precariously over the middle of the road and telephone poles leaning dangerously in the middle of flooded swales juxtaposed with blue skies and green shrubbery makes for a confusing picture. We were grateful that our condo suffered so little damage, we didn't even bother to make an insurance claim.
The hardest part of Frances was the 9 days without power in a hot, humid, tropical climate. I've always said Florida is hottest in September because the heat and humidity builds toward the peak of hurricane season. September was HOT and HUMID. 9 days without power had me concerned that Bob was going to have a heart attack. He could hardly breath. Red slashes painted his cheekbones while his hands and feet had a bluish cast. On day 9, he announced there was a snake on the porch, which meant we had to close the living room sliders and lose any breath of fresh air we were trying to find. Ten minutes later, the power came on! Thank you, Lord.
Ivan followed Frances. I was stunned to learn that Ivan went all the way to Pennsylvania and then circled back to dump pouring rain on Florida. Not finished with the hurricane season, Jeanne struck exactly 3 weeks after Frances. Already weakened from the previous 2 hurricanes, Sebastian was devastated. Most houses had a blue tarp roof. Many of the trees were twisted in the middle of the trunk and then snapped and laid over. Construction people descended like locusts, gypping people every way they could. Some of the condos in our development had no exhaust pipe from the dryer to the outside of the building. It took 6 years for residents to realize they were sitting under loads of lint and mold. We were fortunate. Our hot and cold water taps were reversed and had to be fixed before we could sell, but it was only an annoyance. Our 2 year old kitchen was completely destroyed, thanks to the ignorant plumber. That was more than an annoyance.
Finding the neighbor's cancelled checks littering the lawn along with bits and pieces of insulation wasn't pretty. But, it was their pillow laying in the curb and their bathtub hanging out of the second story where the wall used to be was the saddest. Being homeless for 2 1/2 weeks was no picnic and waiting 22 months before we could return to the condo wasn't easy, either. But, by God's grace we survived it all. And became the better for it.
Wilma, sassy lady that she was, brought us to our son's place, but then she stalled over the Yucatan Peninsula, so we ended up going home and enduring the storm there. No big deal. We're pros by now at this hurricane thing. NOT. You never know what's going to happen. Literally. It's all in God's hands and He has been gracious to us. Losing stuff in nothing. In fact, it can be freeing. Losing health or life is another matter and many have done that. 108 in Haiti at the most recent count.
Matthew has already been declared the storm of the century, replacing Sandy from a few short years ago. The "cone" is the strangest one ever. It started out looking like a backwards apostrophe, meaning the track was up the coast of Florida before turning east and going out into the Atlantic. As time has passed, that apostrophe has taken the shape of a huge circle, meaning several models are now saying after it devastates the coasts of Florida, Georgia, South and possibly North Carolina, it will circle back around and hit Florida a second time.
Most of the models indicate landfall will take place close to Sebastian-both times. The devastation would be beyond description.
This gives you some idea of where Matthew might go. There's no telling. It's must watch TV for those in its path. Mind numbing, fear provoking it might be, but the minute you turn away, it might change. That's why it's a relief when it finally arrives. Then, it's the loss of power-usually in the wee hours of the morning, so it's pitch black. Howling winds and pounding rain serenade you to sleep or insanity, depending on your nerves and faith in the Lord. Falling trees, snapping trees can make you feel like you're in the middle of a war zone. They sound like cannon booming when they snap. Usually that's the result of tornadoes, which hurricanes add to the arsenal. The trees twist in the middle of the trunk, like you'd twist a wet towel to snap someone. When the twist becomes too great, the tree snaps and the tree falls from the twist.
When it's over, which it may not be for Sebastian until early tomorrow morning-if it doesn't return- and for us, late tomorrow night, it's a matter of assessing the damage and picking up the pieces. Worst of all is the warfare with the insurance company. We've learned insurance companies are worse than the federal government when it comes to caring about the people they are supposed to service. Insurance is a pre-paid service, but you'll never convince them of that. Quite an adventure for a couple of old foggies. Stay tuned.
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