Surviving The Wrath of a Major Hurricane

Author
Dan Cormier

An

indepth depiction of our personal experiences enduring

the wrath of Hurricane Charley in 2004 and the

aftermath.

Subscribe to Journal

Chapter 6 - Is It Over?

Dan Cormier

OFFLINE

<< Click here to read

Chapter 6 - Is It Over?

I’m thinking “We made it!” But did we? It felt like the dream was continuing on. “Did this whole thing really happen? Did we survive or was this our imagination?” We were so emotionally drained at this point that we were just plain numb. The emotional rollercoaster of a lifetime. We felt like Meer cats coming out of the ground after a forest fire. We opened the laundry room door and proceeded to walk through the house, assessing the damage. All doors opened and closed without a problem. No more air compression could be felt. No more ears popping. It rained throughout the entire ordeal, so water was still coming in pretty good. Ceilings, walls and floors were soaked in every room. But except for the three skylights being blown out, we were happy that we couldn't see daylight through the roof. How was this possible, with all that noise we heard? We expected to see all the plywood gone, the house held its own. Fortunately, only the shingles were stripped.

Our quick thinking and preparation had saved the day. The storm shutters had blocked Charley from blasting its way into the house and ruining everything in its path. The heavy items held up well against the doors and sliders. The bowing slider’s glass panes I saw proved that the file cabinets (heavy weights) indeed did the job we had hoped they would. Covering everything in heavy plastic paid off as well. One roll of 6 mil polyethylene I found in the garage had saved the day. When all was said and done, we lost but one loveseat. All our belongings were saved, including 3 computers and 3 TV's. All cabinets and flooring were pretty damaged by water, but at least our clothes and stuff were salvaged. After a stroll through the house we went out the front door to see what things looked like outside. At this very moment nearly every neighbor did the same thing we were, leading up to the defining moment of this entire traumatic experience. It was also the most profound moment as far as I'm concerned. To reference yet another piece of Hollywood (CA), the next few minutes were taken straight out of the classic movie "Dawn of the Dead". There was almost total silence now, with a slight balmy breeze in the air.

Looking back, if these next few minutes could have been caught on video, America would have witnessed exactly what it looks like to emerge from a hurricane alive. The stoic look on every person's face was incredible. Not one neighbor had ever seen the other's face looking this way before. It was profound because we all did the same thing at the same time. We all looked across the street at each other's house and saw the destruction to it and everything around it. Then we collectively had the exact same thought, "My God, what does my house look like!". The amount of destruction was completely overwhelming and could not be taken in all at once. It had to be digested a little at a time. That lost and disoriented feeling could only be compared to coming out of anesthesia or learning of the death of a loved one. Someone had just injected our emotion glands with Novocain, causing complete and utter numbness. The next thought was "What do we do now? This will take forever to fix!"

There were metal barns dismantled miles away and strewn in strips across our lawns and wrapped around the few trees that were left standing. There were piles and piles of roof shingles, insulation, mailboxes, and downed trees everywhere. The trees took it hard, beautiful palms laying on the ground, dead from sheer exhaustion. These were just a few quick observations made in the first moments of getting our lives back.& lt;span style="font-family: 'Bell MT'"> Then the silence was broken. Several of us called out "Is everyone OK?" We all called back "Yeah, we're okay, how 'bout you?". Then, once again collectively, we all called out "Frank and Leona, are they okay?" Frank and Leona were an elderly couple living right next door to us and they hadn't made it outside yet. We rushed through all the debris, clearing the way into their front door. They had left it unlocked, so we went in and found the two of them sitting hand in hand on their living room couch. They did not have storm shutters of any kind and rode out the entire storm right there, together on the sofa. God must have had an eye on them, because their home was barely damaged, which was impossible when you looked around the neighborhood.

The house on the other side of Frank and Leona faired really well because it was brand new and completely up to code. Don and Loraine, the neighbors on the other side of us, decided to only cover the front and rear windows with shutters because he was certain that the storm wouldn’t amount to much. If he had only covered those side windows his home would have been spared. All of the side windows blew in and water damage was everywhere. That was the glass breaking we heard during the storm, as I had imagined. This is what I mean by a storm catching you by surprise. No one believed that we were actually gonna get hit. And I mean no one! It had been too long since its last brush with a hurricane and Charlotte County had become very complacent. A hard lesson learned by longtime residents, as well as residents new to the area. (end chapter 6).........

Chapters 7+ will be posted soon. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far. Future chapters will include our experiences in the aftermath of Charlie, from cleanup to rebuilding to seeing a complete transformation of Charlotte County, which had its high points and its low points. Photos accompanying this story can be seen under "My Photos" at

07/12/2008

2 comments | Add Comment

Chapter 5 - Onto a New "Safe Room"

Dan Cormier

OFFLINE

<< Click here to read

Chapter 5 - Onto a New Safe Room

I poked my head out the closet door, and to my amazement the drywall was still mostly in place to my right, which was also the only way out. To the left the tunnel skylight was gone and drywall was soaked, with water pouring down. With the winds still screaming outside, I crawled out and headed toward the bedroom door, keeping low as if bullets were flying overhead. I knew to keep low and away from glass. And because the sliders were uncovered they stood a good chance of blowing in and tearing me to shreds. As I worked my way toward the door I saw an incredible scene outside - the aluminum pool cage was being twisted into a pile of scrap metal. Trees were being bent sideways and not given the chance to stand up because of the 150mph sustained high winds. Everything you could imagine was screaming across the backyard, as if in a scene from The Wizard of Oz. I was waiting for the infamous cow to go flying by, but it never happened. How on earth was our house still standing at this point? I had to keep moving though, knowing that time was of the essence. I reached to open the bedroom door and it wouldn't budge.

We had closed all the doors in the house as a precaution against wind. I had to stand up to get it opened and it wasn't easy. The air compression inside the house at this point was indescribable. It took everything I had to get that door opened and then everything I had to stop it from slamming shut and coming off its hinges once I passed through it. It was like being in a horror film whose ending hadn't been decided yet and I was trying to have us as the family that lives in the end. &nbs p;As I made it into the biggest room in the house, a combination of foyer, formal living room and dining room, I see the steel double-doors fighting that 300 pound treadmill to my right and the sliders battling our heavy file cabinets to the left. It was almost as if the sliders and steel doors were taking deep breaths, bending more and more as each second went by.

Water was coming in through each light fixture and every air conditioning vent. The sliders continued to bow in towards me. These things were about to give and I'm not sure why they hadn't yet. The file cabinets were holding the center frames, but the glass itself was actually concave to 2 inches or so. An illusion it was not. It was time to get the heck out of the way. So I headed toward the laundry room, the second best choice for a safe haven. The laundry room had one doorway leading into a hallway near the kitchen and at the other end was a doorway leading into the garage. Both doors opened into the laundry room. With both shoulders I managed to force the door open to see the condition of the laundry room. Keeping the door open with my foot, I saw that the laundry room was still intact, except for some water dripping down from the florescent light, and the power had gone out by this point. I went back to grab the family and herded them into the laundry room, keeping low and hustling into place.

Our ears were popping and our faces still maintaining the look of complete fear and disbelief. We huddled once again, helmets on and lounger mattress over our head. There was a little more room in there, bringing very little comfort though. Then more of the roof came off above us and water started pouring down through the attic. No disrespect to our veterans, but it felt like were in a submarine that had just been hit by a torpedo. We were getting soaked from all angles and the sounds coming from above were just frightening. I couldn’t help but think this move to the laundry room was a mistake, but we were here and we had to live with the decision. Besides, who knows what that closet looked like at this point? We were so emotional drained now and we just wanted this to end. Let it be known that one cannot pray hard enough in a situation like this. If you have no religion before an experience like this, you will surely have one when it ends. We were totally "prayed out" by the time Charley had left his mark. And then all of a sudden it was over!

The sounds of the howling wind soon became distant and the tearing apart of the house had completely subsided. Like a pack of angry wolves, it had gotten what it came for and left. We were certain that more was to come though, because of the relentless force that had been battering us for what seemed to be an eternity. And after all, we had already conceded some time earlier, said our good-byes and were basically just waiting to die. (end chapter 5)

&l t;/span>

07/12/2008

2 comments | Add Comment

Chapter 4 - Heeeere's Charley!

Dan Cormier

OFFLINE

<< Click here to read

Chapter 4 - Heeeere's Charley!

I peeked out the sliders for the last time and saw trees being shaken and tossed around like rag dolls. Even the mightiest of oak trees were being picked out of the ground like tulips. Across the water I saw the same scene, but on a much larger scale, as I could see a span of about 250 yards worth of neighbor property. It was an absolutely amazing sight. Around 3 o’clock the storm hit full bore, with winds gusting beyond belief. We were hearing sounds we'd never heard before. The howling and whistling was unbearable! At that moment it occurred to us just how lucky we were to have spent that extra $1,000 on those storm shutters. Hmmm, what an ingenious decision. A mixed bag of debris was bouncing and pinging off those aluminum shutters, with sounds of glass breaking next door. Even at a time like this, we couldn’t help but think how our neighbors were doing, especially next door.

In the final minutes of preparation, it was kind of everyone for themselves, assuming that we all had our own plan, so we hadn’t even thought of how these people next door were going to ride this out. We had no room for them in our little closet anyway, so we could only hope that they were in a safe place. Their windows were obviously blown in, from the sounds of all that breaking glass. I remember thinking “Their home must be like a wind tunnel right now”. Then we thought of neighbors Richard and Linda across the street, remembering how Richard worked so diligently at putting plywood up as good as possible. I've always said that this experience was the closet that one could feel to being in a firefight during a war, except that you had no weapon or defense against the aggressor. You want to talk about feeling small? We were beyond insignificant, like sitting ducks at a carnival. & lt;o:p>

Then Charley attacked the roof. The screeching and stretching above us sounded like someone was up there pulling rusty old nails out of a 2-by-4. We felt like William Shatner did in that Twilight Zone episode, when he looks out at the wing of the airplane and sees the monster tearing the engine apart and he can't do anything to stop it. That's how small and helpless we felt. The debris hitting the roof sounded like an army of 200 pound men were playing football up there. Anne moved away from the walls because of the intense vibrations she was feeling. This went on for an hour or more I'm guessing, but seemed like an eternity. Now switched over to a battery operated radio, the news gave us another bit of encouraging news - winds were reported to be reaching upwards of 150mph as it entered Charlotte County . I found myself literally begging (out loud) the roof to hold on just a little longer.

That was the moment when Anne and I realized that this was even more serious than we originally thought. We were really hoping that this was about over, but little did we know that the eye of the storm hadn't even reached us yet. There was no way out! For the first time in our lives, we had absolutely no control over what was happening to us. At that point I remember saying to Anne "Is this it? Is this really how we're gonna go? Are you kidding me? This is ridiculous!" It was an amazing moment for both of us, frozen in time. Eric, who was just 3 1/2 at the time, never stopped babbling the whole time. To preoccupy himself he would repeat our every word and with like emotion. “Oh no, the big trees! Oh my gosh! Oh man! My word!” Then, one he thought of on his own. “Um gonna call Nana & everything’s gonna be better.” & nbsp; He was never scared, just playing with his toy train on the floor, and trying his best to annoy the dog.

Dusty was so scared that she nearly shook right our of her skin, but did her best to lay still between us all. I kept a video camera running inside the dark closet with us, just for the heck of it. When we play it back you can hear the fear in our voices, but never in Eric’s. That day, he discovered that he was capable of blocking out adversity, and still does this to this day. As the storm grew louder and more violent, the master bath skylight shattered and then blew out. Water starting pouring down into the bathroom, just 10 feet from us. Needless to say the skylight shattering scared the living crap out of us. What a sound it made, being sucked up to the sky. It was at this point that felt we were facing our final destination. We just knew that we were not going to survive this storm and we’d all be killed momentarily.

For the next few minutes we said our prayers together, hugged each other tightly, and said our good-byes. It was the saddest moment we’d ever experienced. Then, as we lived longer and longer than expected, other thoughts took over. These thoughts were mostly of what we would miss and never live to see. Not so much about regrets, being far too consumed with disbelief. Our first thought was we would never see Eric grow up, ride a bike, go to school, graduate, marry, etc. Secondly, would anyone ever know what our last moments of life were like? Like everyone seems to do in the movies, I thought of my mom and dad and how worried they must be right now, as they followed the storm on CNN and the Weather Channel from their home in Tennessee& lt;/st1:state>. I was thinking of how disappointed they would be in me for doing this to my family, when in reality I know they wouldn’t think that at all.

Even though we were so sad, we couldn't muster up a tear because of how scared we were. If there's one thing we learned during this experience, fear will win out over sadness. If I had to choose between a hurricane and a tornado at that moment, I think I would have chosen tornado, because at least a tornado comes and goes within minutes or even seconds. Waiting out the destruction of a hurricane was more trying than I could ever have imagined. We were now begging for this storm to get over with. I remember shouting out ”Come on, either kill us or move on already!” We were being emotionally tortured by a Hurricane named Charley. We had agreed that we were ready to meet our maker and was just hoping it would be quick and painless.

Then, it got even a little worse, if you could imagine it being possible. Insulation and dust started coming down all around us. With water pouring into the bathroom just feet away, I figured we were doomed soon, but I figured “What do we have to lose at this point?” I lifted the mattress off me for a second and looked up to see what we were in for. "What a dummy!" I yelled out. I had totally forgotten that there was a 2'x2' scuttle hole in this closet ceiling, and right above our heads. I knew the cover would be sucked out of the opening soon, so it was time to make a move, if we had any chance at all that we were going to survive. &nb sp; (end chapter 4)

&l t;/font>

07/12/2008

1 comments | Add Comment

Chapter 3 - Barricaded Inside a 2â€™x6â€™ Closet

Dan Cormier

OFFLINE

<< Click here to read

Chapter 3 - Barricaded Inside a 2’x6’ Closet

It was time to plan our escape within the house and the most obvious option for our "hunkering down" was our master bedroom closet. So I emptied it like a madman, tossing things out and visualizing how we were all going to fit in there for however long this would take. I was also thinking about how we would get out if the roof caved in on us, so I grabbed an ax and crow bar for digging us out. It was the centermost "safe room", away from windows, protected by bi-folding doors and it had enough room for all of us, including little Dusty, who had to have been totally confused at this point, as she shook nonstop. We grabbed our bicycle helmets and a 2'x6' lounger mattress - just small enough to fit perfectly over our heads as our protective ceiling. Once the wind reached about 85 to 90mph, we’d seen enough. I said “Okay, everyone in the closet. Let’s go!” So, still in complete disbelief that this was actually happening to us, we climbed into our hideout. &l t;o:p>

We left the TV on loudly just outside the closet so we could get the play-by-play from channel 5 as this story unfolded. We also had a battery powered radio ready to go for when the TV went out. The TV and radio idea proved to add insult to injury in regards to our fear of the unknown. Not only were we scared to death crammed inside this closet, but we had this news guy outside our door continually scaring the life out of us with his minute-by-minute account of everything Charley was destroying in his path. And Charley had just gotten started! He mentions that even central Florida< ;/st1:state> was feeling the power of this storm, with minor damage here and there. He would describe how roofs were flying off buildings miles and miles south of us and how trees and power lines were down everywhere. Then we here “You can expect a storm surge of up to 15 feet along Charlotte Harbor .”

Storm surge occurs when a hurricane is traveling over the ocean and the powerful suction of the rotating motion draws the water upwards to the point that the water just has to return to its original level position. On its way back to level, its starting point is 15 feet high and is being thrust back down by the force of the storm. We lived less than a half mile from the harbor. I would occasionally poke my head out of the closet, glancing through the slider into the back yard. I saw our 20'x30' aluminum pool cage putting up a fierce fight with the high winds, but knowing it would lose that battle any moment as it swayed and bowed out. I saw trees bending in ways they weren't supposed to. I saw things flying by at such high rates of speed that I just knew we were in trouble, deep trouble.

We had been warned that first the storm would hit us extremely hard, then there would be a short lull as the eye passes directly overhead, and then an equally as devastating backlash of the storm, but in the opposite direction. This is how the uprooting of trees and destruction of homes really takes place. Because the hurricane is rotating, the wind initially comes swirling from east to west, which is the top or north side of the hurricane. Then as it passes to the north, the south end of the hurricane hits, giving you the west to east wind. So, whatever didn't blow over with the initial pass, it was surely loosened and would be unable to withstand attack number two. Most trees didn't stand a chance, even the oaks. (end chapter 3)

&l t;/span>

07/12/2008

1 comments | Add Comment

Chapter 2 - Batten Down the Hatches!

Dan Cormier

OFFLINE

<< Click here to read

Chapter 2 - Batten Down the Hatches!

This "extended vacation" would come to a crashing halt for us on August 13th, 2004. For days we watched the news, our first experience in following a tropical storm turned hurricane as it turned north towards Florida< ;/st1:state>. Forecasters said it was going to make a direct hit on Tampa. "Those poor souls" we thought to ourselves. How odd to think that a storm like that could ever strike a major city, let alone Tampa. A Category 1, then soon churning into a Cat 2, Hurricane Charley as it was named, slowly made its way up along the coast of southwest Florida< ;/st1:state>. Instilling a sense of concern more than fear into the longtime residents, the focus was only on the Tampa area and how they would handle such a storm. The thoughts of such a tragic event for Tampa kept running through our minds. We couldn't imagine going through such a thing. We hoped and prayed that the damage to that city would be minimal, especially as we watched and listened to each newscaster and weatherman constantly casting its speculations at us as each minute went by.

Our 15 year old home was located in Charlotte County 's Deep Creek community, a fairly young subdivision made up of modest 2000+sf ranch-style homes near the mouth of the Peace River, which flows into the heart of Charlotte Harbor . It was such a desirable area, just a short drive to some of the country's most beautiful beaches. Needing a few improvements, we decided earlier in the year to replace the old crank-out windows and wait until the following year to replace the roof. The roof had run its course, but it only had one minor leak that I thought would be okay for another year or so. The window salesman recommended that we have storm shutters installed while they were replacing the windows. He explained how cost efficient it would be to do it now, since the installers were already there and so forth. It would cost an additional $1,000 though, so we had to think about it for bit. We both kept saying "But there hasn't been a hurricane here in over 40 years. Are we wasting our money? So many people around here don't have them and they’ve lived here for decades." Well, we went for it, just to be safe. It would soon prove to be the best $1,000 we’d ever spent. We would never have thought that we'd be putting them up just a few months later, as the first hurricane in 30 years approached southwest Florida< ;/st1:state>. & lt;span style="font-family: 'Bell MT'">

As Hurricane Charley worked its way further north, passing the Naples< /st1:city> area, things started to get a bit scary knowing that this thing had to at least graze us on the way by. Local weathermen said we could expect winds gusting upwards of 60 to 70mph and a lot of rain. So, we started putting the shutters up, just in case these high winds started throwing things around the neighborhood. Then the hurricane watches and then warnings started hitting the airways. It was quite unnerving to hear this and to see people preparing like they were. Not everyone was preparing, but a lot were. Most took it lightly and saw no need to panic. Looking back now, I don't know of one person that evacuated, mainly because this thing was aimed at Tampa and they were certain of its destination. We had lived through a slight brushing from Hurricane Gloria in Massachusetts back in the 80's, and remembered how exciting it was. I remember having a Hurricane Gloria party, riding out the high winds and laughing about it over a few beers and hotdogs. Some tree limbs were knocked down and power had gone out in a few neighborhoods, but nothing to really get excited about. Perhaps this would be the same type of experience, taking on a party atmosphere and then it'll be gone before we know it. We couldn't have been further from the truth.

At about noontime on this Friday the 13th, as Hurricane Charley moved north past Naples< /st1:city> on the radar, it decided to make a highly uncharacteristic turn to the east. Its coordinates suddenly revealed a direct path into Charlotte Harbor . It was then going to follow the waters of the Peace River right into Deep Creek, then hitting the old town of Arcadia< ;/st1:city>. A hurricane is usually at its fiercest as it initially makes landfall, then gradually loses its intensity as it moves across land. But Arcadia< ;/st1:city> was “old Florida< ;/st1:state>” and the poorly built, unprotected homes and buildings would not fare well against even a Category 2 hurricane. The storm’s new path taken was not the last of the bad news though. Twenty-two minutes later Charley had gone from a Cat-2 to a Cat-4 hurricane, ending the idea of any party.

A Cat-4 hurricane equates to incomprehensible destruction of most anything in its path. The word surreal can’t possibly capture the feeling that came over us at that moment. We were completely green at this type of thing and had no idea what to expect. All we knew was that we had to get moving with the rest of the shutters and that we better get the house ready for Mother Nature's wrath, because Deep Creek was first on her search and destroy list. Fortunately for us our home was built with concrete block exterior walls and stood a better chance of survival than the stick houses did. Perhaps we too stood an excellent chance of survival, or did we? Many homes would not fair well at all, especially the mobile homes and the older “saltbox” homes.

We scrambled to make any and all possible provisions, expecting the worst. We filled the 2 bathtubs with water, which everyone does in case the water infrastructure fails or it is intentionally shut off. At least the tub water would give you some water for this and that, even if to just wash your hands. There is always that small sense of panic when you lose water pressure in your house or neighborhood, but it quickly goes away when you learn of a pipe break or something similar down the street. You kind of know right away that the problem will be brief and things will be back to normal quick enough. But when your water stops flowing due to a major catastrophe you look at things a lot differently, and filling up the bathtub is suddenly taken quite seriously. More quick thinking had us pushing all the movable furniture to the center of each room, packing little odds and ends underneath tables and chairs, and covered it all with thick plastic. The immovable things were draped in plastic, stapling the plastic to the walls. We also loaded plastic trash bags with irreplaceable items that might get wet from flooding.

Both cars were brought into the garage, rolling each so that they slightly pressed against the garage door, in case it was to be blown in. Lastly, we had only gotten storm shutters for the windows. Our double-doors in the front entry and our 3 sets of sliders leading out to the rear lanai were uncovered. At this point, time would not permit us to drive 20 minutes to and fro to get plywood (if any was left) and then construct wooden storm barriers. We had to improvise and improvise now. You’d be amazed at how inventive you can be when faced with a crisis like this. I attribute my quick thinking to observing my dad perpetual creativeness while growing up. He was the master of improvisation, the original McIver. He taught me how to think quick on my feet and it was sure paying off now. Unaware of the capabilities of the impending high winds, we gathered our heaviest moveable objects and jammed them in front of each door. We placed a 300 pound treadmill in front of the front entry's steel double-doors and used loaded file cabinets to hold the sliders in the kitchen, master bedroom and living room in place. Fortunately these items were able to be placed mostly on carpeting to help keep them in place.

During all this chaotic preparation process an incredible "calm before the storm" feeling was going on all around us. Everything was eerily still and silent outside. It was warm and sunny with a super slight breeze blowing, but little activity among the wildlife, which was really odd. Once we had everything as secured as possible, we got a call from my Aunt Joan and Uncle Joe over in Hollywood& lt;/st1:city>, on Florida< ;/st1:state>’s east coast. They suggested we head over there and ride this storm out from afar. As it got closer the winds started picking up and that calm setting was now a thing of the past. Winds were now gusting at about 50 mph. It made perfect sense to get out while we could, since we knew now that this thing was definitely headed right for us. So we started packing a few suitcases and got ready for the 3 hour trek south down I-75, then east across Alligator Alley to Hollywood& lt;/st1:city>. & lt;span style="font-family: 'Bell MT'">

Then more bad news came our way as we were literally finished loading up the car. ABC News announced that several tornados were spotted meandering their way along Alligator Alley and that anyone in that area was to avoid that route at all cost. So much for escaping to the east coast. Plan B was to head north or west 50 miles or so just avoid the impact of the storm. Then the newsman makes another disturbing announcement. "Batten down the hatches people! All bridges are now closed! Stay in your home! Go to the safest, innermost room, away from windows and cover yourself with a mattress. Charlotte County , you are about to get a direct hit and you can expect major catastrophic destruction." I'm sorry, but this is not something you hear every day, so accepting it was not easy. Then, one more announcement drove it home as much as it could be driven…. “This is what we’ve been telling you about for years. If you have not been paying attention, there’s not much we can do for you. Remember, fire and rescue services will not be available during the storm.” This was all completely mind-blowing, to say the least.

We had been paying attention, but it didn’t seem to matter, because no one thought we’d be facing this storm, as it was predicted to just graze us on its way north. So, we knew that if we made it through this ordeal we’d better make it through without any life threatening injuries. Easier said than done, from what I hear. The newscaster, even though many miles south of us, was obviously emotionally distraught knowing his neighboring county was about to be obliterated. Most newscasters had never encountered a storm of this magnitude and you could see the incredible concern on their faces. The scene in the newsroom was of somber, as though announcing the death of a president, and the storm hadn’t even completely reached us yet.

The most surreal feeling came over us at this point. We both went into a brief moment of shock and utter disbelief. Unavoidable thoughts ran through our minds. "What have we done?” We were crazy to move here! How did we let this happen?" The thing is, this was really happening and it was happening to us, now. And we had to get ourselves together and deal with it. It was important that we didn’t show our fear to Eric, so we tightened our lips and geared up for the ride of our lives, thinking only in the now and not about the what ifs. (end chapter 2)

&l t;/span>

07/12/2008

2 comments | Add Comment

Chapter 1 - A Desire for Climate Change

Dan Cormier

OFFLINE

<< Click here to read

Surviving The Wrath of a Major Hurricane

Chapter 1 - A Desire for Climate Change

For us, the winter of 2001 was long, cold and dreary. We were living in Ashland, Massachusetts, a modest, blue collar town located about 25 miles west of Boston< /st1:city>. Snow had fallen so often that the tops of the snow banks were no longer reachable with a shovelful. We were at wit's end and we wanted out. My wife, Anne, spent over 10 years living in California before a chance meeting with me while vacationing back in Natick, Massachusetts, the hometown we unknowingly shared until our early 20’s. After a 9 month long-distance courtship, she decided to move back to New England and pursue an impending marriage, eventually taking place in June of 1998. While in California , she acquired a great love and appreciation for the outdoors. On a typical day, after work, she would head out to nearby hiking trails and spend hours trekking along the mountainous terrain. It was no secret that she was longing for those warm weather strolls that were at her fingertips pretty much year ‘round. She, as I did, just cringed at the thought of spending another seemingly endless New England winter. Once summer ended, it was not unusual to have to wait until the following June to don a tee-shirt once again. New England is an absolutely beautiful place, but its summers are just way too short and seemed to get shorter and shorter each year.

Anne would give birth to our son, Eric, in April, 2001. We then toughed it out for another year, making it through the tragedy of 9/11 along the way. Due to the declining health of Anne's mother, we were drawn to where she had been living - southwest Florida< ;/st1:state>. We made several trips to that area throughout 2001, visiting in the Fall, Winter and Spring. Seeing how warm and sunny it was each time we went, we came to the conclusion that Florida< ;/st1:state> was for us. Our biggest concern however, was moving to an area known for hurricanes. But then again, only one significant hurricane had made a lasting impact on us. That was Hurricane Andrew, and it seemed so long ago and quite a rarity as we soon found out. We also remembered it being on the east coast of Florida< ;/st1:state>, 3 hours from where we were planning to move to. To our delight we also learned that southwest Florida< ;/st1:state> hadn't had a significant hurricane in nearly 30 years and that the potential for another major storm was pretty low. Wanting to get to our warmer climate destination as soon as possible, we latched on to this "30-year" false sense of security and finally made the move to Punta Gorda in October of 2002.

Punta Gorda is a quaint little seaside town located just north of Fort Myers&l t;span style="font-family: 'Bell MT'"> and just south of Sarasota&l t;/st1:city>. It’s far enough away from these cities to quiet things down a bit, but within an hour’s drive if we ever get the urge to visit. Our home is just minutes from the entrance of I-75, which is really convenient. We can get to either Fort Myers&l t;span style="font-family: 'Bell MT'"> or Sarasota&l t;/st1:city> airport within 45 minutes, and just 10 minutes from Route 41, which has all the amenities one could ask for. More than doubling the square footage of our home in Massachusetts, our new Florida< ;/st1:state> home was a spacious 2400sf, including a 20’x20’ 2-car garage. We managed to get a great deal on this lakefront home with 3 bedrooms and 3 baths. What a huge step up from our old 1100sf house with only the one bath and tiny bedrooms. We quickly fenced in the backyard once we discovered one of 5 alligators cruising on by one day. They like small animals when it comes time to eat, and we had a little Lhasa Apso dog that would surely make a nice breakfast treat. It turns out that the largest one in there was 11 feet long and went by the neighborhood nickname of “Big Daddy”. Coexisting with alligators took a little getting used to, being that the typical wild animals we would encounter back home were skunks, raccoons, and an occasional opossum. Before the fence went up I would have to take Dusty out at night, just before bed, so she could do her thing. I can’t begin to describe the fear of walking out there with a flashlight in one hand and leash in the other, scouting for an 11 foot killer that could be hiding in the darkness, planning to ambush us at any moment. This was a bit unnerving to say the least, and it went on for a few months before the fence finally went in.

We had our own heated in-ground swimming pool, so we could swim night and day, year 'round. There was a 10’x20’ lanai under roof that shared the floor with the pool deck. The pool was completely enclosed by a screened aluminum cage, attached the roof above the lanai. This allowed you to sit outside at night, without having to deal with mosquitoes or other insects. The bedrooms were good sized, with a big living room and kitchen. We finally had enough room in our home to move around in. The yard was nicely landscaped with half a dozen palm trees, an orange tree, a grapefruit tree, and a beautiful 9’ hibiscus tree positioned between the center of the pool cage and the lake. It always seemed to be in bloom too. The trees were all so beautiful and were a constant reminder of Florida< ;/st1:state> living whenever looking out a window or venturing outside.

Our first two years in Punta Gorda felt as though we were on this extended vacation, even though working every day. The weather was just great - hot summers, but no winter. The daytime highs might not reach 60 degrees 5 or 6 times in a year, and we noticed right away that people seemed happier. It was only a matter of months before we found ourselves taking things slow and easy. We were driving slower, and not rushing from place to place for no good reason. Our stress levels had dropped significantly. It was so noticeable too! No more warming the up the car or chipping ice off the windshield. No more jumper cables on a freezing cold night, and best of all, no more shoveling snow. We arrived in paradise and nothing was going to change our world! So we thought….. & ;nbsp; (end chapter 1)

07/12/2008

1 comments | Add Comment