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Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Hurricane Andrew Teaches A Powerful Lesson

Here’s what an idiot I was: I thought it was going to be fun.

Scary, yes — the lights would go out, the winds would howl, the windows would rattle — but essentially harmless for all that. It would be fun, in a ghost-stories-in-the-dark, shiver-up-your-back kind of way. We would camp out in the house, eating bologna sandwiches and playing board games, waiting for the lights to come back on.

We had been gone for a week, a family road trip to Washington and Atlanta, and this was before the Internet was ubiquitous, back when it was still possible to unplug from the inflow of information. I had not seen a paper or watched the news since we left Miami. So it was not until the night before we returned, when I chanced to be watching television in a Savannah, Ga., motel, that we learned a hurricane was bearing down on South Florida.

We stopped in Daytona Beach the next day and called our neighbors from a pay phone. Pam and Joe told us to, for God’s sake, stay where we were, but we shined them on. I didn’t want to miss the fun.

That was 20 years ago this week and, needless to say, “fun” is the last word anyone who went through it would use to describe Hurricane Andrew. Because we had not been there to board up the windows, we spent that night in a defenseless home. We didn’t initially understand what we’d wandered into. At one point, water was spitting through the vent in the kitchen ceiling, and my wife was laying down newspaper because she didn’t want it to ruin her floor. I pulled her clear just before the ceiling came crashing in.

That’s when we understood. We huddled in a closet the rest of the night, me, her, and our five children, ages 18 years down to 23 months, listening fearfully to the thumping, howling and shattering of the storm.

Have you ever felt a wall breathing? Expanding and contracting like lungs? I felt the closet wall breathing against my back all night long. It was the first time in my life — the only time, thank you, God — I ever felt the reality, the imminence, the nearness, the likelihood of my own death. It had, shall we say, a centering effect.

  • What is really important when disaster strikes is not how much money Romney, the Koch brothers or Adelson are making, but the help we get from law enforcement, firefighters, paramedics, doctors and every member of our community. More often than not, the people that make a difference in our lives are not billionaires who invest much of their fortune in securities or overseas, but our next door neighbor, our teachers or the roofer that installs new shingles in the cold of winter or the midsummer heat when they are blown off by high winds.

  • I too live in Florida. Each hurricane season, neighbor would help neighbor prepare. I went through four hurricanes and after each one people helped each other. As a nation we are very generous and tolerant.

    That is why I do not understand the rhetoric from the GOP. Teachers are bad greedy people, really? Labor Unions are the reason we do not have any jobs, really? My all time favorite is their invention of the “moocher class.” Yet you know it is the liberals who are behind class warfare.
    It is President Obama and his supporters who are pitting Americans against each other. It is them and their hate.