Thursday, September 21, 2017

IRMA

I like rain. Especially living in South Florida where it can cool down a hot day and keep the landscape lush and gorgeous. This is a tropical climate and storms come and go in a matter of minutes. It's almost always a very refreshing experience. I say “almost” because, occasionally, a storm comes along that completely disregards the rules of decorum as regards rain in SoFla. Those are hurricanes and even during the “rainy season” they have their own agendas. They are not here to refresh and delight. Their sole purpose is destruction and they are scary as hell We got our first warning about the possibility of a “gobsmacking” from Hurricane Irma more than a week before the fact. Within days, they began evacuating people from the beach to about 2 miles inland. We live 1 mile from the evacuation area which meant we were on our own. My wife and I took heed and by Wednesday evening, we were making our own evacuation plans. We would get up early on Thursday and drive to Atlanta to stay at a nephew's house. That would keep us out of harms way and we'd get to take a short trip to unwind a bit but when we got up and turned on the news, we noticed that everyone else in the state had the same thought – before we did. There were lines at gas stations, which were running out of gas, lines at grocery stores, which were running out of staples like bread and water and lines on the highways to “get outta Dodge.” The trip to Atlanta was off. We figured that if we could make it to Orlando, we could stay with either one of my daughters who live in the area but that too was out of the question. We had a half a tank of gas which would have gotten us about half way there. Not the optimal situation as gas stations pumps were drying up and people waiting in lines were running out of the precious commodity. For our second choice to save our asses from the ever growing Irma, we decided to get a hotel room. Our assumption being that even with the loss of power, hotels have generators so they would be safe and relatively comfortable given the circumstances. For the ensuing few hours, with the storm still days away, I called every hotel between South Florida and Georgia. Every single one was booked solid. Once again, my ideas proved to anything but original and I was, obviously, too late again. Now I was beginning to panic. We would start feeling Irma's opening salvo on South Florida by Friday evening. “Let's find a shelter.” I said to my wife, “We'll be safe there.” She agreed and we decided that, once things started to pick up, we'd pack a few things and head to one of our local shelters. Once again my timing couldn't have been worse. They kept opening shelters and they would fill up before we could even find out where they were. There were lines to get in and people were being turned away. I was beginning to feel hopeless and desperate. We were finding ourselves with no place to go and no way to get there. For me, panic was setting in. We were sitting smack, dab in the path of, what was then, a category 5 hurricane and we had no options. I told my wife that, even during my tour in Vietnam, I hadn't been that scared. Shit was getting real and I was getting ready to cower in my closet in the fetal position for the next few days until the memory of the war brought me another fleeting thought. One that allowed me to calm down and look at things through much clearer lenses. I realized that in Vietnam we were never alone. We faced the enemy as a “Band of Brothers.” We had each others backs at all times and forged bonds that, 50 years later, are stronger than even some familial ties. I approached my neighbors, most of whom were in the same boat as we were and realized that, in them, I had my “Band of Brothers”to face the storm with. My wife barbecued for all of the neighbors and we all agreed that if there was any flooding downstairs, they could come up to our place and if the roof got blown away, we could go downstairs to them. We had come up with a nice little system to watch out for each other. It was right about then that my cousin contacted me to, a.) check on our status and b.) remind me that it was the “Yarzheit”(Anniversary) of my mom's death and that he had recognized that fact at the last religious service he had attended. We always light a candle of remembrance on the anniversary, so I got ours out and plugged it in. Within minutes, the TV began reporting that the storm had shifted west and that we were no longer in store for the absolute worst that Irma had to offer. It seemed to now be heading straight for every place we initially tried to escape to. I looked at the candle and uttered, almost to myself, “Thanks, ma.” The storm winds began to blow on Friday evening, By Saturday, we still had power but the cable, which is bundled with our internet and our landline, went out. There was no way to communicate or stay informed but we still had lights and refrigeration. My next door neighbor had also lost the cable but was watching the storm coverage. I asked how they were doing that and her daughter said, “I'm from the Bronx. You got a paperclip?” She came in and hooked up our TV which was now picking up 44 digital channels so that if we got tired of the coverage, we could find a movie. By Saturday night it was getting worse. Heavier winds and more rain but still nothing compared to what was on it's way for Sunday. I fell asleep and woke up to find.......we still had power. The lights were on and the AC, which had been malfunctioning all summer, was keeping us cool. “Thanks, ma.” Sunday it started to get worse and by late afternoon things were downright scary. In my 70 years I had never experienced anything like it and it seemed like it was never ending. This was the longest lasting storm I had ever seen. A small tree hit our window, a large tree in the area near the pool snapped in two and palm fronds and branches were flying everywhere. The wind was literally whistling and it was raining sideways. We have double paned, high impact hurricane windows and they held up beautifully. We were now heading into Sunday night and things started to begin to calm down a bit. The rain and wind started to ease and so did my stomach. Throughout the entire ordeal, we never lost our electricity. Every time I would walk past my moms Yarzheit candle, I would say, “Stay with us, ma.” She did. At about 10pm, the cable, internet and landline just popped back on. We made it. “Thanks, ma!” We got up Monday morning to a bright, sunny, hot South Florida morning. There was damage all around us. Trees down, roofs blown to pieces, debris everywhere and, yet, we came through it completely unscathed. All of the people who waited in all the lines to escape to other areas, hotels and shelters were now waiting in lines trying to get home to assess the damage. We went out to see if anyone was serving breakfast. We found a bagel shop a few blocks away that was serving food. There was, as expected, line but we waited. We had just come through a major hurricane with virtually no issues and we were hungry. I got a bagel with cream cheese and lox. I guess I should have taken into consideration that the place may have had refrigeration issues during the storm because the fish was bad. I got food poisoning. I guess it served my ass right for gloating. Thank goodness there was no line to the bathroom.

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