Running from Irma

By Elaine Viets

 The worst part of a hurricane is the wait.
Don and I were under a mandatory evacuation order for Hurricane Irma. The Cat 5 killer was heading straight for the south Florida coast and the governor ordered everyone to get out.
We were lucky – three generous friends offered us places to ride out the storm, and we stayed with Anne in Boynton Beach. She welcomed us to her inland home on Thursday, September 7, and we "hunkered down" as the TV announcers said . . . again . . . and again . . . again.
And then we waited. We ate pizza and popped popcorn and watched the devastation in the islands – Barbuda was destroyed, St. Martin was wrecked, Cuba was devastated, and the Keys were threatened with destruction.

The storm was 72 hours, then 48, then 36 hours away. And all I could think was, "Just get it over with."
I tried to write, but I couldn't concentrate. Even e-mail and Facebook posts were too much trouble. A strange lethargy overtook me.
Meanwhile, our friend Anne went to her job, all the while wondering if her office would survive the storm and if she'd have a home when Irma moved on.
I also wondered if we'd have a home when this was over. We'd packed up the cats – okay, we chased them all over the condo before we corralled them and got them in their caddy. We had suitcases stuffed with clothes, including old clothes so we could clean up after the hurricane. We had bags of food, a case of water and I emptied our fridge. I took down all the pictures and wrapped them in plastic, and stashed them in a windowless room, along with our family photos.
And the last thing I did before we closed the door on our home: I made the bed.
Yep, old habits die hard. I couldn't leave the house without making the bed.
Never mind that we might not have a home to return to – or Irma would rip the bed apart. I couldn't leave the house without making the bed.

Finally Irma hit Boynton Beach Saturday night. She whined outside the windows and shook the house. Tree branches cracked and thunder rumbled. The power went out.
Three hours later, the power was back on, but the phones and Internet were out.
Anne had some downed tree branches, but her home was safe. So was her office.
As for us, Sunday morning, we got a cryptic message that the condos on the south and east side of our building in Fort Lauderdale had "significant damage." That was our side. We couldn't drive home – there was no gas. In our building, the power was off and the phones were out. We couldn't get any information about the damage to our home.
A week after we left home, the power came back on in our building, and we made the 40-mile drive to Fort Lauderdale, wondering what we would find when we opened the door.
Once again, we were waiting. On the drive, we saw Irma's damage: downed trees, flattered fences, bushes stripped bare. By the time we got to our neighborhood, the roads were lined with piles of debris six feet high.
We could hardly see over them to turn into our street.
The trees had taken a beating. The new landscaping was reduced to bare twigs and the condo awning was gone.
We opened the door to our home, hearts pounding.
"You go first," I said to Don. "I'm afraid to look."
The living room was okay! Our hurricane windows had held. The kitchen and dining room were unharmed. So was my office. I didn't lose any of my beloved books, though my computer's hard drive was fried. Don's office was safe.
Then I opened the door to his bathroom and the ceiling fell on my head. I wasn't hurt, just startled.
The only other damage was in our bedroom: Water had leaked into the ceiling and around the windows.
But the bed was still made.

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Don and I are extremely lucky. Our condo is damaged but livable. Thousands of people still need help. Here's a link to where you can donate. http://www.pbs.org/newshour/rundown/help-hurricane-irma-victims/

Comments

[Kathy Lynn Emerson]

Elaine--so glad to hear that you suffered relatively little damage and thank you for the reminder that recovery after a hurricane takes far longer than the next news cycle would lead people to believe.

[Elaine Viets]

Thanks, Kathy Lynn. While we're recovering from Irma, Maria slammed the islands and now Tropical Depression #16 is waiting in the wings. And I'm still waiting to hear from the insurance adjusters.

[Art Taylor]

Fine post here. So glad you're OK—and love that the bed was still made. But yes, your final point is a good one. Many were not so lucky and still need help. Thanks for writing this.

[Karen Maslowski]

Oh, man, what an experience. And what a relief to get through it with so little damage in comparison to some.

My cousin lives in Port St. Lucie, in her parents' old home, because it's close to the nursing home where my aunt lives. She has dementia that is far too gone for her to go anywhere, and my cousin had massive choices to make before the storm. Compounding her decision-making was trying to figure out what to do with the dog and the cat. She finally ended up just moving an hour or two away, to a friend's, also, and trusting that the care home would provide as they have. A hospital right across the street from the nursing home helped her decide.

They ended up with only tree damage, as did another friend who lives in Lauderdale. He is confined to a wheelchair, and they also decided to stay put. We're grateful they made it through, but what a mess for so many.

So, how's your heart, Elaine, after the ceiling fell on you? Yikes!

[Mark]

So glad you are okay and your condo is livable. I can only imagine the waiting. And waiting. I hate wind, so the entire thing sounds horrible to me, but the waiting would drive me crazy.

[Elaine Viets]

The waiting was driving everyone crazy, Mark. You should have seen the traffic on I-95 when we had to evacuate!

[Elaine Viets]

Caregivers like your cousin and your friend who uses a wheelchair have it extra tough, Karen. In a long skinny state like Florida with only three main roads out (US 1, I-95, and the Turnpike), escape options are limited. Many of us just move inland and hope the storm doesn't get us.

[Elaine Viets]

There are so many hurricanes this year, Art -- Houston's disaster, followed by Irma, then Maria. People want to help, but they get swamped, too.

[Hank Phillippi Ryan]

Oh, Elaine. Incredibly scary. Ah. SO glad you both are okay. What an ordeal for everyone involved...

[Elaine Viets]

The sad part is, we had an easy ordeal, Hank. Thanks for the good wishes and good luck with your new book.

[krisneri]

Elaine, thanks for sharing this. I'm so glad you, Don, and the cats are okay, and that your condo didn't suffer too much damage. As someone who has lived most of her life with earthquakes, which give no warning, I've always thought waiting for a hurricane to hit has to be the hardest.

[Elaine Viets]

The waiting is hard, Kris, but I'm grateful for the warning. I grew up in tornado alley, and when (if) the sirens went off, we have five minutes to get to the basement. I was in one earthquake -- those are way scary.