For those who have never had the good fortune of a rushed evacuation from the latest “Mother of All Storms” allow me to take a moment and explain.

When a hurricane or other tropical storm is out in the ocean, the nice people at the National Hurricane Center do their best to try and predict where it is going to go. They use all kinds of computer models, forecasts, voodoo magic and dart throwing to come up with a forecasted track, meaning line.

They try to predict where the storm will be in roughly five days and make the best guess they can. However, they admit they aren’t very good at this and that nature has a way of making them look like idiots. So, they hedge their best some and create what they call a “Cone of Uncertainty” that goes out from either side of the track.

Since they are pretty good at the 12-24 hour range, the cone starts off very narrow but, by day 5, grows to approximately 350 miles on either side, meaning 700 miles across.

Now, that really isn’t that bad. If you’re within 350 miles of a big hurricane, you’re going to feel it. So anyone within the cone should be paying really close attention. At worst, the storm could make it personal and hit them directly, at best they’ll need to reschedule their boat race and bar-b-que.

Useful it may be at times, I’ve undertaken the decision to, in my household, rename this aforementioned cone the “Cone of Stupidity”. Why? I’ll explain.

Cone of Cluelessness

The problem with the Cone of Stupidity is that, for most storms, it is completely meaningless. The 700-mile swath at day five is wide enough to easily engulf everything from Panama City, FL to Houston, TX, but it is is still wrong a high percentage of the time.

Take Hurricane Ike for example. When Ike was in the ocean, and many New Orleanians were in hiding, it was supposed to follow Hanna up the eastern coast. That didn’t happen.

Then it was supposed to go up the western side of Florida, eventually landing in the panhandle. That didn’t happen.

Then it was supposed to hit New Orleans or just a bit west, similar to Gustav. That didn’t happen.

Then, suddenly, the track made a jump. Ike was to take a hard turn and land at the Texas/Mexico border. That didn’t happen either.

Finally, they settled on the track of Ike hitting right around Galveston, which is pretty much how it went down. By that point, the storm was less than 72 hours out.

By the time Ike’s reign of terror over the Gulf of Mexico was over, literally every coastal town was in the Cone of Stupidity for at least one moment. That is everything from Key West, FL to Brownsville, TX. That’s a whopping 1700 mile drive.

The question becomes, what good does this do? It resulted in the the keys being evacuated so they weren’t inconvenienced with a windy day. Gustav evacuees didn’t come home after the storm had passed. And Galveston still only had a two days of mandatory evacuation time.

Great work guys.

The end result is that millions were spooked needlessly and those who needed to get out didn’t have enough time to do so. The Cone of Stupidity hurt far more people than it helped and the National Hurricane Center (NHC) was powerless to do anything about it.

Sympathy for the Devil

Some might take all of this as me bashing the NHC, but that is not my goal. They do the best job they can. It isn’t their fault nature is less predictable than my ex-girlfriends even their best guesses and computer models can’t predict her next move.

The only people I hold accountable when they can’t predict a hurricane are those that claim to speak for God. Us mortals do the best we can, but we can’t crack mother nature’s code.

That being said, the NHC does sometimes get it right. They were dead on with Gustav at five days out (though they were very wrong about the intensity, something they admit to not being good at). However, with Gustav, they were aided by clear steering currents and a stable weather picture. With Ike, they were effectively on their own.

However, if you read the NHCs discussions, you can get a feeling for their level of certainty. Those of us who read the reports, listened to weathermen and followed the situation closely knew the NHC was just guessing.

However, it is kind of a sad day when you’re getting better information about a hurricane track from your TV Weather Guy than your own government. But that’s a story for another day.

The problem is that the NHC feels the need to make these neat images every 6 hours that show the Cone of Stupidity. They want to make it easy to understand and don’t give themselves the wiggle room they need to admit when they don’t know.

Though I agree it is better to scare people needlessly than to not warm them adequately, the current system manages to do both.

The NHC needs to make a change in the way it reports potential tracks. That is, until they get better at making them.

Fixing The Problem

The solution is simple. The NHC should not feel the need to dumb down the information it gets. It should not feel forced to predict out further than it has good information.

If patterns are stable and they know where the storm is going, they should have a narrow cone. If they don’t have any bloody clue, they should say so.

Furthermore, why aren’t they allowed to talk about difference scenarios and, instead, focus on the one that they see as most likely. Weathermen talk about scenarios constantly. Why doesn’t the NHC?

Also, why don’t the talk more about the models and present that information? Though they are wildly in accurate, they usually indicate a few possible tracks and their own path is usually based in large part upon them.

No, the NHC is content on presenting one track, with a bright line and a neat cone and then jerking that cone around for every little shift. Like a maniac threatening a crowd with a gun, they point the bullet at everyone until half the nation is ducking for cover.

But even if they feel the need to run with this “one track” system, there is no reason to force the Cone of Stupidity to be 700 miles wide at day five. It may need to be much larger if there is a lot of uncertainty or much smaller if they feel comfortable they have it.

The NHC has been restrained to the point that its Cone of Stupidity is almost meaningless and those of us that have to watch it would rather listen to our local weathermen than the advice of the Federal agency dedicated to tracking this stuff.

Conclusions

Having worked for the Federal government, I know well how stupid these regulations can be. I feel very bad for the good people at the NHC as I am sure they are even more frustrated than I.

Still, the agency that is literally responsible for predicting some of the worst of nature’s fury cannot be bound by artificial rules. The NHC needs to be honest with us and it needs to be able to present the information to us in a clear, accurate manner.

Sadly, I don’t see that happening and, even as this hurricane season seems to be winding down, I’m already sweating for the next one.

However, much of that is due to the fact that, at the helm, will be a hamstrung NHC and their completely asinine Cone of Stupidity.

I know that if there is anything that I or the city of New Orleans can do to help, we will gladly do so.

Now to continue from part one.

Tuesday, September 2

Tuesday should have been damage assessment and cleanup day but it wasn’t meant to be. Gustav had parked himself a little bit north of our location making it a miserable day.

Though the winds were calm, there was plenty of rain to still be found. Worse still, the humidity kept rising through the day, making an already muggy un-air conditioned home even more unbearable. Though we opened windows as best we could with the storm, the house was quickly becoming a heat trap.

It was miserable for everyone there. The only breaks we got from the heat was when we took Calico outside to use the restroom and were dunked in ice cold rain water. The day was spent in a vicious cycle between freezing cold and burning hot.

To make matters worse, the water pressure had dropped like a stone overnight. We had running water, but only about a quarter of what was necessary for normal living. For example, filing up the toilet would take at least 20 minutes.

This made showering impossible and it didn’t take long before the heat, the dogs and the lack of bathing made the house extremely foul.

Still, everyone did their best to grin and bear it. According to the power company, it was only for two or three days and as long as we kept ourselves occupied playing games or talking, it wasn’t that bad.

Even if everything else was going to Hell, the company was still good.

Wednesday, September 3

Wednesday was the day in which our spirits broke and our united front crumbled. Lack of sleep, high heat and rough living conditions pushed everyone to the edge. Tempers were high and, though we all tried to put on a brave face, everyone was worn down.

The problem we were facing was that we were in an extremely rural location. Cell phone reception is spotty on the best of days and even radio reception does not always work. Communication was tough and, to make matters worse, we had not heard from Crystal’s grandparents due to a downed cell tower and the lack of a land line.

When we finally got in touch with them, we learned that they had sustained some damage to their house in the storm but already had power. We drove over there first to check on things, where we learned that the damage was purely cosmetic, and then drove back a second time to drop off the contents of our refrigerator so the food would not spoil.

At this point a split came up between us. Crystal’s mom wanted to move in to their house for the night. However, I felt that the house was too crowded already, with two families living in it before the storm, and that it would be even worse over there. Though I was not keen on sleeping another night without air conditioning, I was less keen on sharing a bed with near-strangers or curling up on the floor.

I had made the decision to stay and hope that the power company would make good on their promise to get the lights back on. However, the radio seemed to indicate otherwise. Not only was the power company dealing with a larger outage than planned, but it was still raining in nearby Alexandria and parts of the city were flooded.

Everyone was in for a rough night no matter what, it was just a matter of a hot house vs. a crowded one.

The only thing that was clear was that everyone was miserable and on edge. However, before we reached the breaking point, Crystal and I stopped at a gas station in the nearby town of Montgommery. Our goal was to pick up some snacks but they had reopened their pizza line. We ordered a large and went to pay, only to find out too late that the credit card machine was not working and we did not have enough cash on hand to pay for it.

The lady, too pity on the situation and accepted a simple IOU for the pizza. It caused us both to take a deep breath and relax. As we waited for the pizza we sat in the eating area of the station and chatted while listening to what others were saying.

The area was a mess but the people were doing a good job of coming together to get through it.

The warm pizza was a nice treat after two days of scarfing down perishables before they could spoil and eating hurricane supplies but we were still faced with the prospect of another hot night. However, somehow, it was a little more bearable.

Thursday, September 4

On Thursday, we woke up to bad news. The landline, our only reliable communication at the house, was dead. Though the storm had been gone more than three days, the landline fell silent. The only means of contact we had was text messages sent from my phone.

However, even that required some effort. The phone had to be propped up against the window of one specific room in the house, in the corner of the glass, up against the metal frame. I had been using this trick for the past few days to update friends and family but now it become our only lifeline.

This, at first, seemed like only a minor complication but it turned a bad situation much worse. Where previously staying in the house was merely uncomfortable, not it was outright dangerous. There was no way to call for help in an emergency and no means of staying in touch with family members that couldn’t use text messages.

After using text messages to get in touch with my mother-in-law’s boss to make sure she didn’t need to go into work that day, we set out to find alternate accommodations. Crystal’s mom went to visit her parents while Crystal and I went north to Natchitoches, where we first stopped at a McDonald’s for a hot breakfast and cheap wifi (Note: We stopped on the way to pay for the pizza.).

There, we took turns using our EeePC to update our sites. I also took advantage of the strong cell signal to call friends and family, including those I had not touched base with since we had left. It was nice to hear some friendly voices but we had to keep ourselves focused. Not only did we have supplies to purchase, but we had to find a hotel fast.

Of course, finding a hotel was not an easy challenge. Not only was Natchitoches a major evacuation destination for those leaving New Orleans, but we were not the first to try and find refuge there from closer parishes due to the power outages. Combine that with the need to find a room that would allow dogs and we had a recipe for failure.

We started with hotels in the city center. Though I-49 runs near the city, it doesn’t come by the downtown area. This meant that evacuees were, most likely, going to cluster near the highway. From the looks of things, we were right. The first hotel we went to had two rooms for us but would not work with us in holding the rooms until we could get the credit card there (we were making arrangements through Crystal’s mother until we could get back and straighten out our finances to pay her back).

The second hotel, however, was nice enough to help us. We booked the rooms, one which allowed pets, and made the drive to tell Crystal’s mother. We told her the good news and left from there to head back to their house to collect a few things.

However, as if the day had been going too good, we hit a light rain patch on the last leg of the trip. We turned on the wipers but watched in horror as they stopped in the middle of the windshield about a mile from the house. Fortunately, the rain wasn’t too heavy to drive in but now we had another worry to top everything else off.

We were soon followed by Crystal’s mom and her father, who returned from work for the day, dead on his feet. We quickly broke up into unofficial teams and tried to fix all of the problems. Crystal and her mom packed while I and her father worked on the wiper situation.

But where the packing went smoothly, the wiper situation was hopeless. The problem was not as simple as a fuse and closer inspection of the car showed evidence that, during the storm, a tree limb had struck the front of it right where the windshield meets the hood.

All evidence pointed to a bad motor and that would have to be replaced before we headed home. A plan was hatched to get the motor in town and then take it by the prison for them to replace. That way, we would only pay for the part, not the labor.

However, making that work required getting the motor that day so we could take it by in the morning. It was already getting to be mid afternoon so we would have to hurry.

Hastily, we sprayed a double coat of Rain-X on the windshield, so light rain would not be an obstacle, and finished packing before caravaning to the hotel. Fortunately, we didn’t hit any rain on the way so we did not need to test our ad hoc fix.

The hotel was something between a dump and a dive but it was livable and it even offered free wifi access. We had two rooms, a small one for Crystal, myself and Calico, and a larger suite for Crystal’s parents and brother. It certainly wasn’t home, but it was miles better than what we had.

I set about updating my site and trying to answer email, Crystal went with her family to dinner and brought me back a to go box (I needed to watch the dog). After that, we settled in for the night. A hot shower and a cool bed, it was a great feeling.

Friday, September 5

New Orleans had reopened the day before. We knew from calling our home that we had no phone and Internet and, from calls to neighbors, we knew that we had no power. We were in no hurry to get home but, now that we were in livable conditions, the focus began to shift to making preparations.

The primary concern, at this point, was the wipers on the car. Though we had tried to get the part the day before, we didn’t make it in time. So, Crystal’s father took it to the prison to see if there was anything they could do without it.

Unfortunately, all their testing did was confirm that it was the motor and that we would have to wait until Saturday to fix it. At this point Crystal and I got in the her father’s truck to drive to the parts store and pick up the motor.

At this point though, Murphy’s law kicked in full force. Her father’s truck has always had what could generously be called a “trick ignition”, one that involves a complicated starting process involving a key, pliers and an understanding how to activate it. I knew how to use it, but it was in the hotel parking lot that it flat out broke.

Crystal and I were stranded at the hotel, with no confirmation we’d have the room for a second night. We tried for over 30 minutes to get the truck started with no luck. We called in for help but there wasn’t much anyone could do. Crystal’s mom agreed to pick up the wiper motor for us while she was running around for her job but the only other thing we could do is re-book the room. Any hopes of leaving for New Orleans that day, even in the evening, were dashed.

This was probably the greatest moment of frustration. Where I had remained relatively calm during most of the “murphy” moments up to that point, this was a breaking point for me and I needed to get away for a bit to calm down. After I was done cursing at the truck and pounding the steering wheel with my palms, I took a short walk to find my nerves and talk things over with Crystal.

We went back to the room and tried to make the best of it, getting work done on the laptop, spending time with Calico and waiting for everyone to get home. When they did, we all enjoyed a dinner out at a nearby diner and called it a night early.

It was a rough day that left all of us feeling defeated, but at least it was over.

Saturday, September 6

The plan for Saturday was simple. Check out time at the hotel was 11. That gave us about four hours from when Crystal’s father in law would get the car on the prison grounds to get back to the hotel. Should have been plenty of time.

To speed things up we cleaned everything out of the car to help him clear security and shipped it with just the spare tire, jack and motor. Crystal’s mom went to her job at about the same time, leaving just Crystal and I in the hotel.

We slept in that morning and both took an extra long hot shower. We then packed up the hotel room the best we could putting everything in one suitcase and the laptop case and headed down to the lobby of the hotel. However, at a few minutes before 11, there was no sign of Crystal’s father.

The three of us, myself, Crystal and her bother, waited in the lobby. I passed the type getting updates on Hanna and Ike but grew more worries as the clock started to approach noon. We were officially checked out of the hotel and restricted to camping out in the lobby and we hadn’t heard anything from her father. We tried to call repeatedly but his phone was off, a clear sign he was inside the facility. We just hoped nothing bad had happened to him on the way back.

Finally, at a little past noon, we received a call that he was on his way and that the wipers were fixed. It would be another 30 minutes before he got there, but it at least took the worry off our shoulders. With everything else that had gone wrong, we were just waiting for the next shoe to drop.

We then had a logistical challenge before us. We had four people and one dog to get into one car. It was a tight squeeze to say the least but we did manage to get it. Fortunately, we didn’t have far to go to drop her Crystal’s brother off and that let the rest of us spread out.

We decided to relax. Since Crystal’s father wasn’t going back to work that day, we got an early lunch at KFC, took a moment to refill some prescriptions and then headed to the house to finish packing.

By this point the house was almost unbearable. Even though it was empty, conditions had deteriorated heavily during the days we had been gone. Still, we were able to stick it out enough to pack and do some basic cleaning. It didn’t take much to make it more livable, but no one was volunteering to stay the night.

We packed up the car and prepared to head to Alexandria to meet Crystal’s mother. Unfortunately, the items we packed during the evacuation not only filled the trunk, but also half of the backseat. It was fundamentally the same as traveling with four adults and a dog. This time though, the trip was much longer, about an hour total.

Still, we managed to get through it, most of it with Calico on my lap as Crystal drove, and met Crystal’s mom at her work. There, we stayed for a few minutes to talk and ended up heading to get a very early dinner. Since we had just eaten, most of us weren’t hungry but we made the most of it.

After that, it was time to finally head home. But not before I noticed something else wrong, a crack in the windshield. It was about six inches in length and had formed right at the base of the windshield at the center, about where we guessed the branch had hit.

There was nothing we could do about it then and the car was safe to drive, but it would be another hassle for when we got back.

From there though the trip was fast and the traffic was light. Most of the rush to get back in had long since passed and we were already part of the way home. We ended up landing in the city late that evening, pulling up to find our house intact.

A quick walkthrough of our home and garage confirmed that we had no damage and we also learned that we had both power and Internet access, something that was sorely lacking after Katrina. Everything was as we had left it (meaning a total mess, the storm didn’t even clean up after us).

We breathed a sigh of relief, dropped our belongings into the living room and then heading almost straight to bed. Even Calico didn’t mind sleeping outside that night, I think he, like all of us, were glad to be home.

Still, at that point, Ike was coming for New Orleans so we had to keep an eye on it. We kept the boards up on the windows and our bags packed. Just in case.

I’m glad it wasn’t a necessary precaution…

Conclusions

As far as an evacuation experience goes, this one was much worse than Katrina. Though Katrina had us much more worried about our home and belongings, it also missed the upstate, instead veering toward Mississippi. Gustav came right for us and we were caught in the middle of the path of destruction.

The worst part of Gustav was not what happened to our home, but what happened where we were. It was clear that the upper part of the state did not take this storm seriously and was caught off guard. The result was that, even as New Orleans was coming on line and opening back up, Alexandria and parts even north of that were still stumbling.

I have an old adage when evacuating from hurricanes that says “Don’t Go Along The Coast” or, for us in Louisiana, “Go North!” It’s usually a good strategy but here it did not work so well.

Still, thanks to both my inlaws, who provided much-needed help, and the people in the area, who pulled together even as the powers that be seemed to be caught with their pants down, the experience was survivable.

The only person I have an issue with now is Mr. Murphy. If every I meet him, I’m going to shove a copy of his laws down his throat.

Harsh? Perhaps. But when you’ve been stranded in hotel parking lot due to a bad ignition, you can practically hear him say “I told you so…”

Jerk.

Thanks again to everyone who helped us during this difficult time, you will always be in our hearts!

However, now that I have had a few days back home, in relatively normal conditions, to reflect about what happened, I wanted to take a few moments to talk about the experience, what happened to me and why I found it so hard to get back to the city and back online.

So, if you’ve got the time and are interested, I’m going to tell my tale the best that I can. This is going to be a pair of long posts, for that I apologize, and they probably won’t be up to my usual writing standard. Still, I want to get this out and down on paper as quickly as possible.

Otherwise, I fear I might forget about what happened and may never really learn from it.

Friday, August 29

For Crystal and I, Friday was a decision day. Hurricane Gustav was bearing down on the New Orleans area and we had to make a decision, get out now and beat the traffic or stick it out.

To me, the storm was borderline, dangerous enough to have me worried but not so frightening that I was clamoring to get out. However, as every update from the government had the storm coming closer to New Orleans and with greater intensity, we decided that the best thing we could do was get out then, the trend was not looking good.

We put in a full day at work and headed home where we hastily boarded up the windows with wood left behind by the previous owners. I then roamed the house taking pictures of all of our belongings (for insurance purposes) and we packed up every portable item worth over $100. After barricading both our front door against looters and the garage door against wind, we, me, my wife and our dog Calico, left in a car that was loaded down as far as it could go.

The trip was very long and difficult. We took back ways to make sure we avoided any problems and ensure we had gas available to us. Coupled with lengthy stops for the sake of the dog, what was normally a four and a half hour trip took well over six. We had left a little after midnight that morning and arrived, dead on our feet, at almost 6:30.

We went to bed straight away and didn’t come to until mid afternoon the next day.

Saturday, August 30

Not a great deal happened on Saturday. We spent most of the day tracking the storm and taking care of what we could before it hit.

The only two things that were learned then was that the storm was definitely heading to southeast Louisiana and there was a drastic shift in its post-landfall track. Instead of turning almost due West, the storm was to instead go almost straight, putting where I was in central Louisiana in the bullseye.

This meant, strangely enough, that my chances of seeing hurricane force winds were the same either in New Orleans, or in my evacuation spot.

Still, we hunkered down and prepared the best we could. My mother in law secured time away from her job but my father in law, who works maintenance at a nearby prison, was forced to stay and was working extra hours as they had brought inmates up from New Orleans to ride out the storm there.

Sunday, August 31

We knew well that Monday was going to be the day the storm arrived so Sunday was a day of intense preparation.

The first issue was supplies.

Crystal and I, prior to the decision to evacuate, had made a trip to Sam’s Club to stock up on non-perishable goods. However, due to how cramped our car was, we were not able to take most of those supplies with us. So we, Crystal, her mother and myself, headed back to Sam’s Club again, this time in Alexandria, to renew the stock.

We ended up buying many of the same items that we did before. Canned spaghetti, beef stews, cereal, breakfast bars, water, sodas and snacks were all on the menu. We got what appeared to be about five days worth of food for four people and checked out.

What struck me as odd during this trip was how lightly many were taking the storm. The store was busy, but not much more so than on any other Sunday. A few people were stocking up on supplies but most seemed to be getting normal groceries. Most were murmuring that it would not be any worse than a “bad thunderstorm” up there.

We quickly ran our other errands, including a failed attempt to buy a mattress (would not fit in either car) and got an early dinner. However, as we were preparing to head home, we ran into another problem. Crystal’s father, heading home early from his job at the prison so he could return the next day to ride out the storm, had suffered a blow out on one of his tires.

We needed to act fast as darkness wasn’t too far away and everything was at least a 45 minute drive. We decided to split up. Crystal and I went back to Sam’s Club where we bought a tire while her mom went back to their house, which was near where he had broken down and rescued him from the side of the road.

The plan was simple. We would buy the tire, take it up to the house in our car, pick up my father-in-law, transfer the tire to their van, drive over to where truck had broken down, pull the flat tire off of the truck, leave it there for a few hours while we go to the prison and have the auto body shop people there put the new tire on the rim. After all of that, we would drive back to the truck, put the new tire on and then drive off.

(If you knew my father-in-law you’d see why I call this a “simple” plan. The term is relative and this is probably the least convoluted plan associated with him.)

The first part of the plan went smoothly, it wasn’t until we, my father-in-law and I, went to the prison that things began to fall apart.

The first problem was that I couldn’t obtain a visitor pass. That meant I had to wait outside. The second was that we had come in right at shift change and count, meaning that we had to wait at least 30 minutes to get any help.

For about an hour I stood outside the prison taking advantage of the relatively strong cell phone signal to call my parents and people I knew in the city to find out what their plans were. It was a tense time, made all the worse by the fact it was taking place under the watchful eye of sniper towers.

When we finally got the tire fixed and inflated, we drove back to the site of the breakdown. By this point, darkness had long since fallen and there were already strong gusts of wind. We raced to put the tire on but it seemed everything was working against us.

The problem started when we tried to finish jacking the truck up to put the new tire on. Though it was high enough up to remove the flat, we needed a few more inches to put on the inflated tire. Unfortunately, after getting the front end up just a hair, the soft Louisiana soil gave way and the truck slipped off completely.

Fortunately, we were both well clear when that happened so no one was hurt.

Still, we had an engineering problem before us. We had two jacks, a hydraulic one I keep in my car and a scissor one that came with the van. Neither, however, would fit under the axle. We had to jack the truck up by its frame with the scissor jack to get the hydraulic one underneath and start lifting it again.

Luckily, the second time everything worked and we were able to head home so everyone could get a few hours of sleep before the big day.

Monday, September 1

Crystal and I woke up early to watch the news. All day Sunday the storm had been weakening and shifting slightly westward so things were looking very good for New Orleans. However, after Hurricane Katrina, we were still very anxious to see what would become of the city.

We made a promise after Katrina to never watch national news should a storm hit. All of the major networks had sensationalized Katrina, which was completely unnecessary, causing us a great deal of additional heartache and worry. We were not going to do that again with Gustav or any future storm.

Fortunately, we had DirectTV at the house and they had picked up the local NBC affiliate and taken it nation-wide. They did far better reporting than any of the cable news outlets. Not only was their reporting less sensationalized, but they had more boots on the ground in the city and were getting interviews with the relevant local officials.

We watched as the storm passed and, though there were a few tense moments, it quickly became clear that the levees were going to hold and that the city had been spared. We breathed a sign of relief celebrated the good news quietly.

However, the celebration didn’t last long. Even as the storm was still lashing New Orleans on the back end, the winds started picking up where we were and started to gust loudly. The lake, visible from the windows in the front of the house, became very choppy and the trees began to sway heavily.

It was shortly after noon when a sharp gust of wind passed through the area causing the lights to go out. The house got quiet, the televisions silenced, and everyone in the house was unsure of what to do. Power had been severed to the entire road. However, at this point, the outage was not widespread. We called to a nearby gas station/restaurant and found that they were still running. After placing a food order and, after picking it up, we hunkered down in the house to ride out the rest of the storm.

My mother in law had located a battery radio and informed us that the worst of the storm would be passing through the area between 8 pm and midnight. Considering it was mid-afternoon, it was a long and difficult wait.

The wait was made worse by both the heat, which was steadily rising due to the lack of air conditioning. On the other end of the spectrum, Calico, needed to use the restroom repeatedly during the storm, forcing me and Crystal to take turns walking with him outside as winds came in well over tropical storm force.

During all of this, my father-in-law called (the land line remained working) to let us know that there had been a change of plans and he was heading home. He made it to the house shortly before dinner time, just before the dreaded eight o’clock hour.

As darkness fell the winds picked up. We all sat in the living room, five adults and three dogs, with only candle light to see by. The winds seemed to shake the whole building on a few of the stronger gusts but the part that had us all worried was the sound of tree limbs hitting the walls and the roof.

With no good interior room to go to, the small house is laid out so all rooms have at least one exterior wall, we watched as the structure became what I’ve called “God’s dartboard”. Limb after limb was thrown at the building though, fortunately, none broke through. The worst was one that struck right behind my father in law as he leaned back in his chair, stunning him with both the noise and the vibration.

After a few tense hours, we decided there was nothing we could do so we all separated to go to sleep, or at least try. However, it seemed as if most of us stayed awake for at least a few hours, listening to the wind and hoping that things don’t get any worse.