What's it like to survive a Hurricane? (long)

I remember when I was a kid I only worried about not being able to watch tv because all the grownups were watching the weather for hours on end.  So what?   What's the big deal? You got the news.  Now I wanna watch Sesame Street. 

I thought evacuations were fun.  Great big ol' sleepovers with cousins, uncles, aunts, etc.  Going to Grandpa's house!  yay!! 

Then we went back home afterwards and it was sort of cool to look at all the rubble.  I remember the Seabees from Gulfport were the first responders and it was fun to look at all of them smiling (little did I knwo they were trying to cheer up the grownups).  they'd patrol in their big green trucks and machine guns.  We got to camp out on the porch which was really fun.   We get to cook outside every night!  Schools are closed!  Let's go to the beach!  Yes, we did this.  Let's go to (friend's) house! 

My room was usually the one with the most damage!  WHY??  Why not my sister's room?  (remember, I'm a kid).

ah, mom, it's hot, comeon, I'm tired, I don't feel like cleaning up.  

Now I'm all grown up and a parent...

Don't touch that TV!! 

Let's go to the store before it gets crowded.  There's a tropical depression off the coast of Africa.  My grandpa would actually say this.  He'd track each and every hurricane on a paper tracking map, using coordinates given on the news.  This is one thing he taught me. 

Turn off the radio, you're wasting the batteries! 

Yes, I have to wash all the clothes NOW.

Hey, D, go fill up a bunch of waterbottles and put them in the freezer, ok?  

And then watching the news and looking outside at the damage and Seabees and National Guard is no longer cool.  It's heartbreaking.   It's not fun at all.  Camping out on the porch is just a little fun. 

It's really, really dark at night and you can see all the stars.  It's so weird sitting on your porch, by the moonlight and flashlight, watching the big green trucks rumble by.   

I wonder if kids today are more aware than we were.  I look at my kids, telling them their Aunt lost their house and it didn't sink in.  Then I said, Your cousin has no more tv, no more bedroom, no PS2, no clothes, everything got blown away.  That seemed to get through a little bit.  Just seeing it on tv does not do it justice.  The only thing that bothered them was the picture of the OS bridge, they've been over it many times and it has a memorable bump bump bump ride to it you can't forget.  It's a rhythmic bump, kind of nice actually.

It's a totally different ball game when you're all grown up.

Man, Peter Pan's got it good, some would think?

John,

Last year, Charley was predicted to come roaring up Tampa Bay. I was in a mandatory evac zone; I left my home at 4:30am the morning that it was supposed to hit. After driving one block, I burst out in tears, certain my little home and everything in it would be gone by midnight (I'm just 1 mile in each direction from the bay to the east and the bay to the west).

I went to a friend's house not too far north of my home (but higher elevation). We drove around Tampa; the almost total lack of cars on the road was eerie. After buying a large kennel at WalMart for my cats and buying some hot donuts, we headed back to his place. I fell asleep on his couch around 830am; we were supposed to start feeling Charley's wind gusts by 200pm. He was still a category 2. I woke up 2 hours later to find that Charley had taken an abrupt turn east to Port Charlotte and had dramatically increased in power to a category 4.

With Frances, we lost power for about 24 hours. My neighbor's teen daughter was complaining that the block just north of us had power but we didn't. I snapped at her (later apologized) that she was dry, had a dry home and food and water - there were people all over Florida who had none of that. That night my neighbors (5 homes) and I congregrated on my driveway in the pitch black night, ate ribs and drank beer and wine. We were all very grateful to have been spared yet again; the loss of power was such a minor price to pay.

I count my lucky stars constantly. I am so very fortunate to still have my home; I know the very real feeling of dread that comes with feeling certain doom is on the way.