I've been in a lot of hurricanes. About 12 or so. I live in southwest Florida, the greatest place on earth and practically Heaven on earth. I've seen them all.
My first experience with a hurricane was at a hurricane party. That's how they do it down here. They throw a party. They blow it out and go all out. Everyone is invited. That is, everyone that stays. If you have a friend in a hurricane, you have a friend for life. That's just how it is.
I was renting a room from a lady I didn't know. I had just met her. She was going through a divorce. I had been there a few months. Her life was a hurricane. Everyday, every night it was this and this and that and that. There's no escaping a hurricane. If it's coming it's coming.
Then a real hurricane came. Charlie. It was zigging and zagging all over. No one knew where it would go. It wasn't supposed to be here. It wasn't supposed to hit. It wasn't supposed to do anything.
At noon the weather report came in - the hurricane plane (and yes, it's amazing but there are people that fly a plane into the center of the storm) said it's a category 2. HA! As if a cat 2 is going to scare a bunch of people who have lived through 2.4 ...
Two hours later, Breaking News, it's a CAT 4 - take cover! Watch Out! Move! It's too late to leave! The World is coming to an end!
As I sat in my bedroom in that rented room, I watched out the window as the storm came. People were gathered in the other rooms of the house, drinking and having a good time. The party was still on and everyone was having a good time. I spoke with my sister on the phone. The service was interrupted. Trees started to bend. A big limb broke off. The wind was strong and the power amazing. We all huddled in a closet.
We were blessed. The eye of the hurricane had passed 30 miles away. We all survived. Thousands got wiped out.
Once Charlie passed it was night. The stars were out. Skies clear. Neighbors came out and asked if other neighbors were okay. Neighbors who never spoke, never waved, never had anything but blank expressions suddenly became friendly.
The earth smelled nice. Clean. God's Big Scrub Brush came and cleaned it all. What was left over was our cleanup - time to move things out of the way. Tree limbs blocked the road. Paramedics needed to get places. The community rallied together.
I had no power for a few days. No gas in the truck either. Gas stations didn't work. I couldn't escape. I called my sister and she met me half way - as far as I could drive - to give me some gas to make it to her house in Tampa.
The hurricane passed. Charlie was gone and gone for good.
Then Wilma came, a tiny nothing of a hurricane - nothing to even write home about. And she tore up all kinds of things ...
More on this later - but there's 2 lessons ... Hurricanes Always Pass -- and The Big Hurricane Isn't Always The Hurricane That Does The Most Damage.
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