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The Storms of Life
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Storms of Life
Written by Susan in Jacksonville
The wind was howling as went to bed that night. We lived in a very small, 3 bedroom house that, luckily, was a lot sturdier than it looked. The four of us would be sleeping in the hallway and, for some reason, instead of fear I felt excitement.
I was 5 years old when hurricane Dora came to visit us that night. This would be the only hurricane to directly hit Jacksonville in my lifetime. Though Dora was a relatively weak hurricane, she was a hurricane just the same. We had been preparing for this storm for days and now she was here.
I remember the 2 twin mattresses we placed end to end in the hallway. It seemed as though the hall was made just for this adventure tonight. They fit snuggly against the walls on either side and there was no room left to stand in our little fortress. We had the tub filled with fresh water, we had our flashlights, we had our battery operated radio, and extra batteries galore. We were prepared for this storm.
I don’t remember what time it was when I feel asleep, but I do remember the laughter and jokes before. The laughter, I’m sure, was merely an attempt of my parents to keep all us from listening to the wind and the rain and the thunder. If we kept our attention focused elsewhere we couldn’t think about the danger that lie ahead. Yes, the house creaked and moaned under the strain of the storm, and it shook from the thunder above, but we had a night to remember and our laughter stood strong
I awoke the next morning, bright and early, to calm and peaceful sounds. The storm had passed; we were fine. The tub full of water, the batteries, and the radio would all prove their usefulness over the next few days. We were without electricity and phones for quite some time.
Now my grandparents lived within a 2-mile radius of us and, being unable to contact them by phone to check on their safety, the next adventure was upon us. As we drove towards my grandparents’ houses, I remember my brother, anxiously trying to capture everything on his 8 mm movie camera before each winding wound down. We drove so slowly because of the flooded streets, and I stared in amazement.
Trees had toppled onto my neighbors’ homes; their roots had been torn from the earth. Telephones poles and signs and wires looked like twisted pick-up-sticks, dropped without thought or care. Most streets were impassable because of the water and trees, but we finally made our way to my grandparents. They were all fine. With so much damage to so many homes we were very fortunate to all go completely untouched by this terrible storm.
Up until I left home to begin my own life many years later, there was always an excitement in our house when a hurricane was brewing. Dad and I would spend hours tracking the path of each new storm on our tracking charts and would talk about the supplies we would need. Year, after year, after year we waited in anticipation to see if THIS storm would be THE storm; the one that would find its way to our house. We were ready for whatever any storm could offer. There was a sense of disappointment when each storm would turn and head away from Jacksonville, but it was soon replaced with the anticipation of the next storm. Each hurricane season was an adventure for us.
Yes, I guess this seems a little odd that we would be disappointed when a storm turned and headed out to sea. And as I write this story now, and think back so fondly on that night in the hallway, I realize that Dad probably didn’t really want a hurricane to hit. The excitement of tracking the storm and gathering our supplies was just another attempt to keep all of us focused on the adventure and not on the threat of impending danger.
I’ve carried this lesson with me throughout my life. There are many different types of storms that loom in our lives. We can fear the storms and dread them, but we can’t stop them from coming so we must do our best to prepare ourselves for them. And if we allow ourselves to look past the fear of the storm there is always an adventure that lies within.
Thanks Mom and Dad for teaching me how to prepare for the storms of life.
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