This page is for
those who have yet to greet an imposing storm such as Hurricane
Wilma. The evening news has only a moment to portray an experience
that requires days of preparation, hours to endure and of course
weeks of recovery.
One
Hurricane Wilma Experience
A hurricane is a most unwelcome
guest. It consumes all the ice, batteries and water at your
disposal. It deprives you of food, fuel, electricity and income as
it topples the dominoes of society against your door until you
have no way to leave and nowhere to
go.
The winds gain strength
throughout Sunday night. The window screens rattle in their tracks
but nothing serious. Around 4:40 am the wind is too strong to
ignore. It's as if there is a vicious animal just beyond the glass
intent upon devouring you! Cable TV has already failed and if not
for the one TV with an antennae there is no further viewing. By
6:41 am the power has gone. You now rely on the battery operated
radio. Such daylight as there will be is still an hour away.
Fortunately Wilma is a
reasonably dry storm. Our parking area floods readily in a routine
downpour but not today. Those who live along the lake will later
report the same conditions. The driving wind blows water between
and around the window panes. Towel after towel is placed to sop up
puddles forming on the sill. The intense wind whistles like a
teakettle while the glass doors bulge on the verge of bursting. I
troll window to window peering out. The car cover flaps in the
wind until it is quite unredeemable! A paddle fan on the balcony
spins uncontrollably. One paddle after another is eliminated until
the fan itself is torn from the ceiling. A sunshade comes
loose and is blown to bits creating a general mess on the back
porch.
Media prepares us for a brief calm
as the eye passes overhead. That never happens. The
wind blows even more fiercely. Five hours later the wind slowly
begins to subside.
Ironically, Key Largo's hurricane Katrina relief concert was rescheduled due to hurricane
Wilma.
Recovery:
Outside the truth becomes known. We lose 5 ancient trees and
several sections of the pool fence. One tree falls into a balcony,
another crunches the trunk of a BMW. Sections
of sidewalk are raised by uprooted trees. A satellite dish is
obliterated. A giant semi is toppled by the enormous wind.
A lake is a quiet place to live.
Only a single home on our lake has a personal generator. It's very
loud and annoying! In the still and dark of the night it is the
only thing
to be heard. One can only imagine the clamor created by personal
generators in every home. Hopefully I'll miss that. The
electricity will be out for days and it is pitch dark in the
neighborhood after sundown (about 6:30 pm). Flashlights are our
friends! Conserve battery power there is no way to recharge.
Cell phones have no signal. 
Candles and lanterns are lighted
around the house each evening. Light switches are flipped on and
off habitually. Sterno is used to heat cans of soup and beans.
Water is warmed each morning and poured through coffee. Everything
refrigerated is about to spoil so I use those items first. The
fridge is opened sparingly to preserve the cool inside. If you
have no gasoline you're probably out of luck. No electricity means
no working
pumps
even if there is fuel in the tanks. There is no ice... anywhere. Those
who have water treat themselves to a cold shower. A boil water
order is in effect. How does one boil water without electricity?
FEMA treats those who suffer
hurricanes with the same regard as any communist country... wait
on line interminably for a small something and leave without when
the supply is suddenly gone. Supermarket shelves are bare and
there is no new merchandise in sight.
Many streets are blocked by
fallen trees. There is a
curfew. Only 18 of 2600
traffic signals are
operational. We are told to treat each intersection as a four way
stop but many drivers barrel through with little regard. Hundreds
of homes suffer the loss of roofs and shingles. Damaged roofs are
capped with blue tarps. Nearly anyone with an aluminum patio
enclosure has had it ripped away. Such debris is
bent like ribbons around standing palms.
Motorists desperate for fuel
wait in long lines for only a few dollars of gasoline sometimes
pushing their vehicle to the pumps; sometimes waiting to discover
the location has pumped itself dry.
It's unfortunate that cars do not burn wood because we'd have more
than enough fuel!
These enormous winds rip bolts
through an aluminum frame of the balcony and away from the
structure. 
Each morning a flock of Ibis
prowl the turf in search of breakfast. I am amazed that
these fluffy creatures weighing mere ounces have survived this
killer storm far better than the sturdy constructs of man.
The power will be out until 3 pm
on Wednesday (about 57 hours). Some neighbors are without power
even with this writing (2 weeks). For some it will be nearly
Thanksgiving before power restoration. I discover that it takes 30
hours for the burglar alarm battery to discharge. The last moments
are a tirade of sonic desperation!
Admonitions
Prepare:
Stock up. Floridians know that a storm can strike anywhere. Across
the street there may be severe damage while your own home is
untouched. You still must be prepared for the worst so anything
and everything you can stockpile puts you in the best posture.
Stock the cooler with ice, fuel your vehicle (s). Examine your
circumstance and make preparations that can keep your situation
afloat. Remember that access to emergency services, highways,
groceries and electricity may be drastically limited.
Tough it out:
The hurricane center gives us plenty of notice. Unlike an
earthquake that strikes at unawares, these huge weather systems
manifest days even weeks in advance giving us plenty of time to
fabricate our best defense. By the way it's true, most hurricanes
do indeed sound like a freight train!
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