Surviving Idalia; An Insider’s Perspective

Life in Florida is an occupational hazard. It is common for people down here to use hurricanes as a time reference. ‘What, this truck? Oh I bought that thing before Hurricane Michael.’ That sort of thing. Entire construction companies are set up purely to build the most hurricane proof homes possible. Hurricanes define the Florida landscape. Then there is Idalia.

Hurricane Idalia cropped out virtually out of nowhere. Meteorologists were already tracking it for several days before it ever made landfall. The issue with hurricanes is volatility. At any moment they can become extremely powerful or increase speed without any warning. In the case of Idalia the hurricane kept growing in strength without stopping. It was also difficult to predict exactly where it would make landfall. 48 hours before Idalia made landfall, panic buying ensued across the state. Sand bags were distributed. People nailed plywood across their windows. Generators went out of stock, and people braced themselves.

I live in the North Florida region. I’ve always said there are two Florida’s, North and South. I assure you that things change dramatically between the two. South Florida is always getting hammered. North Florida usually isn’t subject to the devastation. Idalia made history by giving North Florida a straight up donkey kick to the face.

I knew the hurricane would hit my area about 24 hours before it made landfall. The only problem was that I didn’t know how strong it would be. I walked around my home and picked up anything that could even remotely be considered a projectile, everything from rakes to trash cans. I gave my generator a good once over. Bought some extra water, anticipating a temporary power outage. And then watched The Weather Channel.

The storm hit like all hurricanes, gently. At about five AM a gentle rain swept over my roof. Usually I like the sound of rain, but in this case I knew that meant the hurricane was right behind. Then the rain grew stronger. Winds began to blow outside. Thirty minutes later the power went out. That was the first signI had that something was off. Out in North Florida I’ve never experienced a power outage longer than twenty hours. During Hurricane Irma my power went out the storm was already howling outside. I had never seen the power go out when the storm hadn’t even hit the area yet. Dawn was coming in an hour, and already I was reading what it would be bring.

The storm came quite suddenly. It was as if a switch had gone off, one moment there was just rain and a light gust. Noticing beyond the ordinary rain storm. Then everything changed. The winds began to howl like the tales of banshees. The rain came down in a deluge. As the dawn came up, there was no visible sun. No comforting yellow, red sunlight. Everything was bathed in a dreary dark grey, like a scene from a doomsday film. Even that dreary light was short-lived, the landscape grew darker and darker. Idalia had hit full force.

For the most part I’ve managed to avoid most of the hurricanes that plague my home state. My home was hit pretty hard by Hurricane Irma. That hurricane remains etched in my memory because I had actually gone outside during the worst of the storm. I had to make a quick home repair as the winds neared 100 MPH. Idalia was even worse than Irma, by far. While Irma was a vicious storm, it still felt like a storm. Idalia almost had a personality. It had a distinct sound, a sound unlike other storms. All I can describe it as it to say that it sounded like the soundtrack to an apocalypse film. It literally sounded like destruction. Homes out in Florida are built quite strong, and mine was no exception. Yet there were several times when I could feel the wind beneath the floor, as if it would lift the house like ‘The Wizard of Oz’. Only I knew the destination wasn’t Oz, with weird munchkins and creepy flying monkeys.

I sat in my home fighting intense exhaustion, given that I’d stayed up the entire night watching the hurricane moving in. As the storm hit full force I’d entered a strange, near dream like state. When I was awake I would hear the storm outside, howling and screaming like the pits of hell had opened. Then I’d fall asleep for a small period of time I would sleep and dream of being chased by a nightmarish storm. It was a strange experience.

There was one distinct emotion that stayed with me the entire time. I was never in a bite-my-nail-off state of anxiety, but I was unsettled. I couldn’t relax at all. I was tense the entire time, feeling at any moment that something terrible was going to happen, but I didn’t know what. Unlike Irma, Idalia continued to grow in strength. I can’t think of a time when it ever platued. LikeI said, this was a storm that seemed to have its own personality. A malevolent, scheming personality. Like it specifically wanted to destroy us all. This may sound like fatty prose, but I’m telling you that’s what it felt like to be inside.