Weathering the Maelstrom

                         Weathering The Maelstrom

         It is Monday, the seventh of October, in the year of our Lord, 2024. We are living now in Southwest Florida. The rains had come with a vengeance this last week. They are in advance of the expected landfall of Hurricane Milton, a category three monster now spinning malevolently out in the Gulf of Mexico. Residents in the area were scurrying around, like a kicked over ant hill. Gas supplies had already dried up this morning, along with cases of bottled water and sand bags. People were preparing for Milton’s landfall on Wednesday afternoon. 

         Life-long residents of winter, storm-tossed Buffalo, New York, we recognized the feeling of rising panic before a storm. Bread, milk, batteries and canned goods disappear from the local grocery stores. Gas supplies evaporate, with long lines at fueling stations. Everyone was battening down the hatches and getting ready for a blow.

       The news stations were trying to help, by supplying accurate information on the weather. They also warned residents to stock up on needed supplies to weather the storm. Though extremely helpful, their focus always ramps up the feelings of dread among the populace. Their mournful warnings sounded like the tolling of the angelus, for the departed.  “It is coming closer,” they warned. “It is getting bigger and more powerful.” “This might become the storm of the century.” These pronouncements are like a person making very loud noises around a jittery heard of cattle. It wouldn’t take much more to “spook the herd” and cause a stampede.

        People were understandably on edge. The powerful monster Helene had swept up the Gulf just a few weeks ago. It had caused massive damage along Florida’s west coast. People were still cleaning up the debris. Helene had slammed into the Florida panhandle with enormous force. It had also continued on up through Georgia and the western Carolinas and on into Tennessee, with huge loss of life and massive property damage. Some 236 souls had been lost in the storm. Many in the Carolinas were still without power and water. Fema and the United States military were ferrying in water and food in a combined effort to help the beleaguered citizens of western North Carolina. The infrastructure around Ashville, N.C was a shambles. The area will be a long time in recovering.

In coastal Florida, many were approaching desperation. Two years ago, Hurricane Ian, a category five monster, had swept through the area like a watery broom, causing enormous damage. Thousands of condos were still unoccupied on Sanibel Island and Fort Myers Beach, perhaps awaiting insurance settlement claims.

Predictably, the flood insurance rates had skyrocketed after the storm. As much as 80% of the beleaguered beach residents had simply been unable to afford the new rates. There were large areas of beachfront bought now up by developers, who would build large condo towers along the beach.

The properties of many of the year-round residents now stood unprotected, awaiting the vagaries of the coming storm. There would be no insurance check to help them rebuild, if Milton once again destroyed their homes. The orders had already been issued on Sunday,  by Lee County authorities, to evacuate Fort Myers Beach. Home owners and renters alike would have to find shelter on the mainland, something easier said than done. Several public shelters had already been designated for those who had no where else to go. 

The news media had outlined a two hundred miles long stretch of Southwest Florida Coastline that might take the full brunt of the storm. Flooding of inland areas was already occurring from the heavy rains on the super-saturated ground. The rains had been heavy these last few days. Our golf community would be closed for a few days until we saw how bad the damage would be. Our community is situated about three miles inland from the beach, so the enormous destruction of the surging water would not impact us as greatly as it did the beach areas.

On a personal level, Mary and I had been good doobees. We had gassed up our car and shopped for needed provisions on Sunday, ahead of the crowd surge. We had our kindles and phones charged fully, in case we lost power. We also had a tuck of “Hurricane food” ready, that is food that doesn’t need to be cooked or kept cool in a refrigerator.

We had but to empty the lanai of potential flying objects and seal up the castle. A new roof on the building and hurricane resistant windows, a product of Hurricane Ian, had made the place pretty snug. Only a tornado would knock us down. And that, no one can prepare for.

The rains from the outer bands of Milton will start pounding us tonight. After that our collective fate is in the hands of the Good Lord. May he look after all of us.

                                                  -30-

                                               (820 words)

                                        Joseph Xavier Martin