As hurricane season ramps up in Florida, I remember last year’s Hurricane Ian.
Five days before our community in Central Florida was predicted to feel the effects of Hurricane Ian, phone calls, texts, emails, and Facebook posts expressing concern for our safety began arriving from around the country and the world.
Arizona: “Is the hurricane going to Florida near you?”
South Carolina: “Thinking of you and this crazy hurricane path.”
Vancouver: “Sounds like you guys could be getting some potentially nasty weather!!”
England: “Stay safe! Bit of a bugger these hurricanes.”
Massachusetts: “You still have time to fly to our house in Boston.”
New York: “Where shall we send the flowers?”
When my husband Larry and I left New York State, we were glad to leave snow and cold and blizzards behind. We also were fully aware that moving to Florida meant we would face the possibility of hurricanes. Therefore, when looking for a home, we decided to steer away from the Florida coasts, which historically took the brunt of these storms.
Not Our First
We immediately had fallen in love with 55+ active adult community south of Orlando because of what it offered. Furthermore, the homes were well-built, with underground electrical wires and excellent drainage.
Our first experience with Florida hurricanes was with Irma in 2017, and that had given us more confidence in our ability to withstand these mega-storms. This confidence was further boosted by experience of people who have lived in our community for over twenty years. In a text thread with fellow SOL Writers, one of the long-timers assured another member, who was experiencing her first Florida hurricane. “I’m one of those pioneers who have weathered several hurricanes here,” wrote Kathy Glascott. “Actually, that should be a selling point for Solivita – the community that survives hurricanes well! “As I learned later, all the homes were built in compliance with 2002 Florida Building Code(FBC), which mandated that new construction be able to withstand hurricane-force winds and feature shutters or impact-resistant glass in all openings.
Prep for the Storm
We also knew how to prepare for the storm. Immediately following Rosh Hashanah, we went into full “A-Hurricane-Is-Coming” mode. We made a quick run to the supermarket to add more canned food to our already full panty. We brought inside all potential flying projectiles: lanai furniture, plants, lawn ornaments, and hoses. We filled empty orange juice jugs saved just for this type of emergency with water. For extra measure, I filled the bathtub as well as several big pots. We even squeezed in our fourth COVID vaccine booster shots, figuring if we had any side effects we were already stuck inside.
Then it was a waiting game as Ian was getting larger and more ominous by the hour. The Weather Channel (TWC) showed a cone that covered all of Florida. Larry kept track of the storm in the office, switching between The Weather Channel, the local news, and some mindless programming to ease the stress. I followed Ian’s path on the television set in our kitchen, where I was working on a Mixbook family album and the final edits for my upcoming book. (Yes, I really did this. Maybe I feared that the projects needed to be completed before we lost electricity for goodness knows how long.)
Taking It In Stride
By 5 pm Wednesday, Hurricane Ian had touched down near Punta Gorda, about 120 miles away from our home, with 140 mph sustained winds.The scenes on the news in the hours that followed were terrifying to watch: massive flooding, destroyed buildings; boats piled on the shore. TWC meteorologists were in the middle of it. At one point, Jim Cantore was nearly hit in the head with flying debris. All I could think was, Is it worth losing your life to report on this? Thankfully one of the men in charge told him to find shelter. As faithinhumanity later tweeted: “I’m curious. When applying for this position of field weatherman was it the first line under job requirements or was it buried in the fine print ‘Must be Suicidal.’” (sic)
Meanwhile, our community was feeling the impact of Hurricane Ian. The rain was coming down in sheets, turning the small pond behind our house into a river. Fortunately, the water stayed well below our lanai, spreading north to south behind the homes on either side of us.
By eight p.m., darkness was closing in. We FaceTimed with our children, assuring them—especially our seven-year-old granddaughter— that we were fine and safe. Larry and I each finished off a big bowl of ice cream, reasoning that our half gallon of Breyer’s Vanilla Bean would melt if the power went off. On the last minute advice of our friends in England, we transferred a couple of bottles of white wine to the frig. We did a last minute check to ensure that all our other emergency gear—candles, matches, crank-up radios, smaller flashlights, cork screw, were in working order.
Oops
My only moment of concern was when I realized that almost every one of the ten D battery in the house was dead. Larry and I salvaged enough for our two larger flashlights and added D batteries to our shopping list.
As the wind and rain pummeled our house, we watched more television, grateful that we had not yet lost electricity. Exhausted, we went to sleep near midnight. Both of us woke up during the night for updates using both the twenty-first century method of checking the internet and the old-fashioned tried-and true-method of opening our front door. So far, so good.
Minimal Impact
Larry and I woke up at 7 a.m. to the news hat Ian had been downgraded to a tropical storm but was still producing strong rains, heavy rains, and winds up to 65 mph. Later that morning, as the storm headed northeast to wreak more destruction, we realized that we were very fortunate.Our house and immediate property was undamaged. The power had remained on. The pond remained well below our lanai. By late Thursday afternoon, the rain and wind had stopped, and the sun was peaking through the remnant clouds. We spent the rest of the day restoring our house to pre-Ian condition.
Larry and I woke up Friday morning to beautiful sunshine. A long walk through our neighborhood showed little damage. Over the next few days, we learned that a few trees had been uprooted, some houses had sustained damage to their lanais, and low-lying roads had been flooded. Our initial assessment, however, proved to be correct. Our community had been minimally impacted by Hurricane Ian.
Unfortunately, that is not true for so many others. Property data and analytics provider CoreLogic projected storm surge and flood losses from Hurricane Ian to run between $41 billion and $70 billion. As of October 17, over 117 Floridians had lost their lives. Half the deaths were attributed to individuals who chose not to leave their homes despite evacuation orders. Many others, however, lost their homes and lives in areas where experts called the flooding “unprecedented,” “historic,” and potentially ’a 500-year flood event.’
Gratitude
Exactly a week almost to the minute when we were completing final preparations for Hurricane Ian, Larry and I were observing Yom Kippur with fellow congregants of Congregation Shalom Alechiem. We recited the powerful Unetanah Tokef prayer which asks “Who shall live and who shall die, who shall perish by water and who by fire?” We had survived, and we are grateful. And we are grateful for all who were in touch with us throughout the storm. Massachusetts, we hope to visit without a hurricane! Albany, I love roses, which I will place in my still-intact dining room.
In one of my zany, punch drunk moments before Hurricane Ian hit, I took this picture with my emergency provisions: a head lamp, a half gallon of ice cream, and a bottle of wine (which we saved for AFTER the hurricane passed us by.)
There Goes My Heart 