HURRICANE IRENE PART I

Day 1 Saturday

Batten down the hatches, she’s on the way…already made landfall in NC, about 7:45 a.m.  200,000 people without power already, 3 tornadoes touched down in NC, six houses damaged by one tornado; a death in NC, apparent heart attack while preparing for storm; death in VA, a surfer—they would, wouldn’t they?

Amy and Lloyd have decided to stay at their cottage on the bay, Amy in particular loves storms, Lloyd would err on the side of caution, but I guess he wouldn’t want to leave her there alone.  Austin and Julia are staying at the house in Quaint Acres, with the dog, Snowball, and cat, Kagan.  Amy says their house is 18 feet above sea level, so she feels they are safe.  She is setting up the webcam so that we can watch what is going on.  Of course, I will worry about them.

I had emailed Bruce in New York, wondering if he was in the evacuation zone and what precautions they were taking, but it seems he and family are vacationing on Nantucket Island, and are planning to stay there.  I have not heard of any evacuation orders for that area, but I did see a clip of empty ferry boats heading to Martha’s Vineyard to bring people into the mainland.  Of course, I will worry about them.

I emailed Chuck, in Florida, to see how he was doing and asking him to keep safe.  He emailed me back from New York to say he was there instead, and was hunkering down quite safely, he thought.  Of course, I will worry about him.

How come everyone is in the wrong place?

I love the ocean,  I love the crashing waves when the wind or a storm comes in.  I love the ocean in all weather and season, not just the summer.   So I can understand when people want to be there—especially people who live there through all seasons—it must be hard to give it up for a while, to go to some lesser place.

Early afternoon, Saturday, here, there has been fitful sun, or perhaps I should say, fitful clouds, but now it is getting really overcast, and the wind is picking up.  Bear, the big dog, is very restless.  He does not like thunder storms, and can often anticipate them, but there is not thunder or really any unusual portents at the moment.

Mama Peeps and her babies are coming up from the pond now, so I shall go down to the barn and shut them in the pen.  I like to be sure they are secure when a storm is coming up, rather than on the loose.  I worry anyway when they are down at the pond, have lost two many ducks and ducklings there.  But who can deprive them of this great pleasure in their lives?

I am really impressed with the accounts from FEMA’s Fugate, DHS’s Napolitano, NYC’s Bloomberg, and others up and down the coast about their extensive and intensive plans for this storm, “Preparation, Response, Recovery” they call it.   Mayor Bloomberg has a great command of person and language when he is explaining what they are doing, what they will do, and telling people what they must do.   Mass Trans shut down, possibly bridges if winds pick up, utilities if there is flooding, areas evacuated, especially nursing home residents and the elderly, boats at the ready for rescue, shelters open for 70,000 people, though he says they may be a little short on beds.  National Guard called in.  Nearly all states with mandatory evacuation for residents of islands and low lying areas.  Maybe people did learn something from Katrina.  Several states have requested from the administration, proactively, emergency disaster declaration. 

There Must be a Plan

Although I have heard no forecast about any possible effects in this area from the hurricane, I know we do often get wind and rain on the side, so I decide to follow my own disaster plan.  Who knows?  Perhaps out of solidarity with those who must do so seriously.

It goes without saying that I had contemplated an emergency run into town the first thing this morning, but I really couldn’t think of anything I needed that badly.  Plenty of poultry feed, bird seed, dog and cat food.  Milk, bread, ketchup, and bath tissue.  Freezer and pantry full, hardly likely to run out of food anytime soon.

I gather up lawn furniture and bring them up onto the porch, turn over the round table and leave it where it is, fold up the Weber grill and leave it where it is, but don’t do anything with the big gas grill. Take down the hammock, roll it up and put it on the porch.  Take down hanging baskets on the front porch and tuck them away at the back of the porch, behind the furniture.    Check security of trash cans.  Make sure poultry feeders and waterers are full in case I can’t make it down to the barn for a day or so.  Check for batteries in flash light and weather alert/radio.  Check the wind-up radio, it doesn’t work.  Fresh water in thermoses.    Propane lantern handy.  Landline phone plugged in.   Don’t forget to put flashlight by bed.   (I did.  Forget, that is.)

And as well, cooked myself a good supper that will provide three or four meals, though I am fortunate in having a gas stove so I can still cook if power goes off.  Supper of veal meat loaf, vegetarian jambalaya, and a zucchini, tomato, and cheese dish. 

Ah well, it’s all a good exercise.  A dry run. 

2:14  wind and rain, heavy rain, wind NW, our forecast did not say anything about wind or rain today.  For about a half hour.

6:30  wind and rain again, for about a half hour.

About 2 million evacuated on east coast, some refuse to go.  NJ Governor Christie exhorting those in Atlantic City to leave, “You’ve got enough tan…Get the h--- off the beach.”  Kind of silly, but as the day wore on he handled the situation commendably and with stature, giving details of preparations being taken for the storm.  In Atlantic City some 600 elderly had refused to leave, and one reporter interviewed some in a condo, where 92 refused to evacuate.  What feisty little old ladies, (was that a man in the background?) elegantly dressed and coifed, saying, in effect, “H--- no, we won’t go.”  They felt that they were safe, and one of them said that people had come by begging them to leave, ready to evacuate them, but the places they could be taken to were worse than where they were (which engendered visions of  them sleeping on cots in a gymnasium, lining up for meals at food laden tables, accepting doled out water—unthinkable!!).  You go, Girls.  I mean, You Stay Girls, more power to you.  And if you are swept away in the storm, you will have no regrets.  Way to go.  Or not.

Why is it that, after a hurricane, no one ever goes back to interview those recalcitrants who refused to leave, to see how they fared and if they regret their decision, or if they thumb their noses at those cowards who left?

What if we didn’t have NOAA and the attendant satellite/forecasting system to tell us a hurricane was coming?  What if we didn’t have FEMA/DHS/Coast Guard/National Guard/Police and fire departments/mayors and governors to do the PRR (Preparation/Response/Recovery)?  And the media to help us keep track of what’s going on?  Government to do what we, as individuals and communities with all the best intent in the world, could not organize and accomplish on such a scale by ourselves.  Because government is the people.  They are us.  We are them.  Of the people, by the people, for the people.

Good night, all.  Keep safe, sleep well, keep in touch.