In Florida, before man made global climate change, we had hurricane drills in grade school. We’d learn where the best place to hide was and how to skin, cook and eat alligator. This was before the internet… and apparently before satellite radar. Didn’t they have advanced warning in the 80’s? Did we learn nothing from the Seminoles who we took the land from?
Why would we learn how to ride out a storm in school? We were either tougher then or the storms were less severe. Maybe by launching the satellites to better forecast the storms we upset the balance of nature making them more severe. Mother Nature said, “I’ll show you! You can have all of that down there but the attic is mine.”
Or maybe the storms are scarier because I am older with more responsibilities, a house to maintain, and a family to care for? When the winds were beginning to whip the trees around and the rain was coming down sideways, I wished I was the college kids next door who were undoubtedly drinking warm beer and celebrating no school. Warm beer? No, this was before the power went out… they haven’t had a working refrigerator for many months now. Ah to be that carefree again. We’d have to serve the toddler his yogurt on ice. “Your breakfast, sir. May I draw your bath?”
I admit, I was hesitant of the severity of the storm as it approached. The news seemed to be getting carried away with their predictions and getting way to excited about the potential doom and destruction. I have a hard time believing emotional journalists. Maybe they’ve cried wolf too many times or I remember the days when TV news warned you before the editorials.
We did buy supplies for the house and gas for the generator and cleared the yard of potential projectiles. And then we hunkered down as the first bands of wind hit.
Rain and wind and the power went out and we all slept on the first knowing that if a tree fell it would take out the upper reaches of the house first. Over the sound of the generator, I listened to the storm while the family slept. All night I was awake assuming the worst and waiting for a tree to crash into us. Again, adulthood? Years ago, I may have relished the adventure and maybe even hoped for a free skylight until the landlord came to fix the damage.
All in all, our damage was minimal. A leak in the kitchen that I thought I had fixed and a little water in the basement and no power. It could have been much worse and luckily we didn’t have to cook up any alligators.