Charlie Time

Not only do I love this picture created by Kimberly Hanbor, it still stirs a lot of emotion for me. The clock sits at our town square on the north end of our little barrier island of Fort Myers Beach. And 2:15 p.m. was a most important moment for this is when hurricane Charlie turned our way and, simultaneously, became a Cat 4.

It's also the moment at which all debate ended in my living room. Well, almost all debate.

Kenny and Torie Montana, both teens at the time, had hurricane parties to go to and felt leaving the beach to be both unreasonable and a frightful imposition. Leaving? That sounds as if we're bored or have gotten too much sun, my darlings. We're e-vac-u-at-ing!

My mother, who had been in the hospital for the three days prior, was just coming off a morphine drip yet still taking pain killers every few hours. She wanted to stay just so she could "experience" a hurricane. She'd be fine if we left without her. Sure Mom, we'll just wave goodbye to the drug addled, immediate post surgery, 74-year old woman as we head on our merry way through 150 mph winds! You hang on tight now.

Had we not impressed upon them the gravity of the situation?

Everyone, get in the car!

The rest, so they say, is history. The storm wrought tremendous damage to our island and caused over $30,000 worth of damage to our home. The Gulf met the bay, putting Fort Myers Beach mostly under water.

Although it would be five days before island residents could officially return, myself and my kids were among a small number of people to hitch a boat ride across the back bay at about 6:30 the next morning. By 10 a.m. the National Guard, with guns drawn, put a stop to people rowing or motoring to the island.  

We walked the five miles to our house through what looked like a war zone. Tons of sand everywhere, downed power lines, roofs sitting next to the buildings they once topped, cars pushed through curled garage doors, houses simply gone, incredible debris...we had never seen anything like it.

It was a totally emotional experience but one you come away from much wiser. Torie Montana, for instance, will likely never pack only hand washables the next time she must evacuate.

It also makes you realize how precious - and precarious - the lives we build really are. It's surreal to find yourself walking towards a FEMA truck because they're calling "Hot stew!" over a bull horn.

And you learn alot about yourself. When I heard that call, I had visions of baby carrots, red potatoes, shitake mushrooms, perhaps a little sherry tossed in at the last moment and, on the side, some crusty bread with real butter.

I tried very hard to hide my surprise and disappointment from the kind woman who handed me a styrofoam plate of canned stew.

What was I thinking? That Martha Stewart was in the back of the truck cooking up a storm? Good Lord, sometimes...I'm such a bitch.

Keep your fingers crossed that the storms currently brewing - Ana, Bill, and Claudia - come to nothing! Ana and Claudia, at the moment, look like they might keep their tropical storm status with 35 and 45 mph winds respectively. Bill, however, might be ugly as his winds are now topping 75 mph. Of course, all of this is as of a few minutes ago. We'll see what Mother Nature has in mind. Sometimes, she's such a....


The two sites I constantly check when these storms come up are:
http://www.wunderground.com
&
http://www.nhc.noaa.gov