What is your attitude when a hurricane approaches your area?

[OuterBanker]

What an interesting dilemma. After Isabel we have to seriously think about evacuating. We have not evacuated anytime for the entire 31 years of living here. But in Isabel we were cut off for several days from the rest of the world, lost our power for a week which meant losing our food that included all our deep sea fish (tuna, dolphin,etc). On the other hand, because we stayed we could look after our property and secure it, check for damage etc. If we had not stayed we would not have been allowed in, in fact the road was cut off so we could get here if we wanted to. Now we have a unique situation here our home and our business are all on joining properties, so our livelihood and shelter are all dependent on this one piece of property. So goes the dilemma we face every year. I know that one day a hurricane will completely reshape the Outer Banks, I just hope is not within my lifetime. So I guess my answer is both ways for the limited choices. But my real answer is go away. I also bet that no one that answered bring it on has ever really been through one in which the inconveniences such as no power, no water, extensive damage has occurred.

[Patrick99]

My attitude is still "bring it on."

I think we can all agree that the aftermath is not a whole lot of fun. S. FL in August or September is uncomfortable enough when you *have* power.

However, I still believe that experiencing a hurricane is tremendously exhilarating. I've seen Andrew, and I still feel that way. I won't say Andrew was "fun" in the way Katrina 1.0 was....but it was exhilarating. Terribly exhilarating. It's like being on a very scary thrill ride. It scares the living you know what out of you.....but you become addicted to the adrenaline rush. You want to do it again.

[Zackiedawg]

Clearly most of us wouldn't be on this site if we weren't weather enthusiasts, so having to justify a fascination and curiosity about hurricanes is unnecessary. I don't think anyone should feel guilty about liking hurricanes, and wanting to experience one first-hand. I have always been in that crowd. I experienced my first one as a young child in New Jersey and was forever fascinated with hurricanes (and most other natural phenomena).

Living in Florida for the past 12 years, I would always secretly wish for a hurricane to make a pass for South Florida. Friends and coworkers would be nervously praying the storm to make a turn, and I'd be hoping it didn't - but never voiced my strange morbid curiosity to others who would never understand it.

And I wasn't even dissuaded by what was the most annoying hurricane experience in my life - Frances. Living through a 3-day tropical storm assault, losing power for more than a week in miserable 90+ degree weather, picking up debris all over the yard, warm drinking water and cold shower water, bad food, smelly mold, condensation dripping down the windows and walls inside the house - I couldn't wait for it to end - the final two days when I finally got a hotel room with electricity was like ascending to heaven.

Yet, just a few weeks later when Jeanne was headed our way, I found myself actually hoping it came my way, and maybe would stay the course further south unlike Frances, so that I could experience an eye. When it brushed by, downing some more trees and knocking out power another 4 days, I was actually a bit disappointed.

So when the 2005 hurricane season started indicating that South Florida would be receiving a few curve balls again, I was still excited about getting to experience an eye. At this point, I had determined that I would prefer not to experience any storm Cat 4 or higher...that might have been pushing my luck. But a good solid Cat 2 or 3 sounded reasonably survivable and exciting. Still not dissuaded, I was hoping Katrina might work her way up to a solidly formed 2 before coming ashore at Boca Raton, my town...and again found myself somewhat disappointed when it veered heavily south and stayed at a minimal Cat 1...leaving us with barely more than a brisk windy day, and again depriving me of experiencing an eye.

Then, Wilma came knocking on the back door. From the outset, I wrote it off - it was likely to veer farther north than my town, would lose significant strength crossing the peninsula, and would likely result in a rainy day with some wind. But as she approached the western Florida coastline, she stayed strong and her approach stayed on line with my town, so I maintained hope that she wouldn't diminish to a TS and I'd get at least a minimal eyewall experience.

What I did get was actually a thrilling experience - filming the front eyewall with my video camera, watching huge trees go down right in front of me in broad daylight, standing outside in the lee of my house experiencing the lung-sucking pressure and over 100MPH gusts, and watching large debris flail through the air like leaves. I was excited and enjoying the experience, despite the ugly cleanup I would already see from all the trees down all around my house. But the house itself and property held fast, and was suffering no apparent damage.

When the back eyewall delivered its surprisingly violent punch, and I heard my roof lift and strain against the braces, watched inch-thick laminated hurricane glass bend to the pressure, and listened to the garage door slam and shake against its mounts, and watching water forcably streaming under the front door into the foyer, seeing streetlight domes and garbage cans and child toys thrown up against my living room windows with me staring out of them into the driving winds - I suddenly realized that my desire to experience this was being countered by my fears - both physical and financial, that my house may be suffering some severe damage, and that it wasn't going to take a whole lot more than this smaller Cat 2 storm to tear the entire roof off the house.

It wasn't a knee-rattling fear - as in 'oh my god I'm going to die'...but more of a rational fear, as in 'wow, this could get expensive...and I really could get hurt even inside what once felt like my impenetrable house'. I guess it wasn't true fear - I kept filming, and marveling at what I was experiencing. But I was beginning to weigh the experiences thrills against the danger and risk to life and property, and the aftermath to come.

9 days of no power, $17,000 of insurance-denied repairs to my deck and pool, $4,000 to remove a huge Banyan tree from my entire backyard and pool, weeks of cleanup of debris, reinstalling ripped-down fences, permanent loss of citrus trees, cacti, and other exotic plant life, my 45 minute commute extended to nearly 2 hours for the month following the storm, due to blocked streets and missing traffic signals, fuel shortages and gauged prices, food shortages at all local supermarkets for over a month...and even now, 5 months after the storm passed, still working in and living amongst structures with blue tarps for roofs and cracked windows. That was the reality of the aftermath.

And yet, despite all of that, we were LUCKY. Wilma was ONLY a category 2. My house suffered no damage to my roof or the dwelling itself. My office only lost roof tiles, but remained sealed. things got back to normal - maybe it took a month or two, but life has been restored (except for the relative loss of privacy in South Florida with all of the missing trees). Looking at MS and LA, and seeing how bad their hit was and how long it will take for THEIR life to return to normal...we can say with certainty that we were indeed lucky.

And now, I can say I've seen the eye of a storm. I've gotten my wish. And it left me with a red smack-mark across my face. I take that as a message - this time, I slap your face, next time, maybe a black eye or broken rib. I don't think I should be hoping for more storms to strike my area. I still have a fascination, and deep inside still find a thrill in experiencing an extreme weather event. But I have too much concern and respect for other people's fears and property, and now even my own, to wish for more impacts. They will still strike, but my conscience will no longer suffer any guilt for wanting it.

If I find myself on vacation somewhere with a storm bearing down, I suppose a little piece of me will still get a thrill from the experience since my property is not being impacted...but at the same time I have newfound respect for what the local residents will be feeling and what they must face in the aftermath. So given the choice to 'bring it on' or 'deviate', I am a new convert to 'deviate', mostly out of respect.

[ROCK]

My attitude is still "bring it on."

I think we can all agree that the aftermath is not a whole lot of fun. S. FL in August or September is uncomfortable enough when you *have* power.

However, I still believe that experiencing a hurricane is tremendously exhilarating. I've seen Andrew, and I still feel that way. I won't say Andrew was "fun" in the way Katrina 1.0 was....but it was exhilarating. Terribly exhilarating. It's like being on a very scary thrill ride. It scares the living you know what out of you.....but you become addicted to the adrenaline rush. You want to do it again.

had that feeling once when I sky dived....wanted to do it again right after but as months past the feeling left me....Probably not a good comparison but I voted both ways.....

[SootyTern]

Well put, Zackiedawg!

[Scorpion]

After the eyewalls of Irene, Frances, Jeanne, and Wilma, I still am fascinated. We had our wood floor destroyed by water, our plants and trees ripped up, our bbq shattered into pieces, cars scratched, and yet I am still wanting more.

[zoeyann]

I voted both ways. I been in several storms, and believe it or not I loved it. There is something truely amazing and beautiful about them and to experience one of the most powerful forces of nature is awesome(especially when you love taking pics like I do). That being said, I am well infomed and have developed a healthy sense of fear especially after this past year. I respect the power of storms and know when to get the heck out of dodge.

[dhweather]

I voted bring it on - not that I want to ever go through it again, but I know the
inherent risks of living on the coast, and am prepared.

warnings up, I'm gone.

[Ixolib]

Well, Zackiedawg, I believe your post (http://www.storm2k.org/phpbb2/viewtopic.php?p=1242689#1242689) is perhaps one of the best written and most well-thought-out posts I've seen in a long time. Well said, and well put...

Your statements pretty much mirror my thoughts - both "before" AND "after"!!

Before Katrina, I had been through many storms - the first of which was Betsy in '65 - both as a child and later as an adult and homeowner. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I'd ever end up in the situation I am in now - and many of my "pre-Katrina" posts here on S2K will verify that now-defunct concept.

But, all that has changed. While I will always stand in awe at the force of a hurricane, my desire to experience it - and more importantly its aftermath - is forever and ever erased. 7 months into this and I still can't see much beyond hour-by-hour. My entire family has been disrupted, my career has been disrupted, my finances are questionable at best, my home is STILL under heavy-duty repair, and I'm thinking it will be at least another month before I can permanently re-join my wife who has relocated to St. Petersburg.

Nope, no more 'canes for me.

There's a new saying around here that goes something like this: "Camille many have been a lady, but Katrina was a real B#%(&."

Again, well said on your point. Thanks for sharing it...

[EDR1222]

Before 2004, I use to think it would be kind of interesting to experience a significant storm. Just like others, I felt like it might be kind of exciting. Prior to 04, my only experiences that I can recall were Erin in 95 and David in 79. They were not that bad and damage was minimal except for the flooding caused by Erin, but I didn't experience that in the part of town that I am in.

Now I definately like to see them deviate and go away. For all of the havoc caused by Frances and Jeanne, I must remember that here in Melbourne we basically received high end tropical storm force winds most of the time with Frances although she did bring some sustained cat 1 winds and then with Jeanne it was basically low end cat one sustained winds. Jeanne likely produced some gusts a little higher than Frances. Unofficial report from NWS Melbourne was sustained at 79 knots close to the height of Hurricane Jeanne for our area. That was more than enough for me.

With that said, I would not want to be around for a direct hit from an extremely intense storm like Charley or Hugo. I couldn't imagine what those experiences must be like. And something like Andrew, no way!

[SouthFloridawx]

I guess that it depends on the storm, intensity and size before I would decide to tell it to bring it on or leave...

[wayoutfront]

If folks would prepare and take Hurricane warnings and preperations seriously, I say bring it on,

but since they don't I say deviate and die out at the last 50 miles before landfall

[Ixolib]

If folks would prepare and take Hurricane warnings and preparations seriously, I say bring it on,

but since they don't I say deviate and die out at the last 50 miles before landfall

I agree that folks need to prepare and heed warnings. However, the actual "event" of the storm is not where the heartache is for most victims. It is in the recovery and rebuilding where the life-changing events become known.

In my case with Katrina, the actual storm impact of significance lasted about six hours. The aftermath, however, has thus far lasted nearly seven months. THAT is where you'll find the truly negative impact on humankind.

And it is a R-E-A-L pain in the butt...

[cajungal]

Andrew amazed me. It was the only true hurricane I got to experience. We got so close to getting the eyewall. At first, Hurricane Andrew was predicted to go up Terrebonne Bay. It skirted the coast along Terrebonne Parish before going inland 25 miles to my west near Morgan City. I was only 16 and I was lying on my bed crying "We are going to die". I guess because I saw the damage in South Florida on TV only 2 days before and thought the same thing was going to happen here. We were getting winds sustained at over 100 mph. You could not hear yourself talk above the wind. My bedroom curtains were being sucked all the way in with no letup. I could see from the cracks of my boarded up bedroom window that the pine trees were touching all the way to the ground. I slept in the hallway in a sleeping bag. Too scared to sleep in my own bed even though both my bedroom windows were boarded up. My dad even made us use the bathroom in a bucket in the garage. So, we did not have to flush toilets. The whole garage was shaking like crazy and the door was rattling like it was going to fly off. Even the walls of our house was caving in due to the enormous pressure. I am surprised that afterall that the damage was not that great here. Just roof shingles off and lots of tree limbs. It was a lot worse in the southern part of the parish because of the surge. Hurricane Andrew is what got me hooked. It was an experience I will never forget. I prefer to ride out storms actually because I want to see what is going to happen. But, now my parents panic everytime we go under a warning and want to evacuate. And even though I am 29 years old, my dad will drag me by the hair if I refuse. I did not want to leave for Katrina at all. And he got really angry and practically forced me in the car like I was a little child. I was really upset because I wanted to see what it would be like here.

[zoeyann]

yeah I remember Andrew well. I was eight monthes pregnant. It was nuts, my daughter was so active and kicking so hard I was up in pain most of the night. I was so distracted by the baby doing flips I hardly had time to worry about the storm. Except for the flooding in low lying areas, I remember being told that most of the severe wind damage was caused by tornados.