Losses and Gains - One

I have been wanting to write about leaving Florida and moving back to New York for a long while now. There was a lot to do physically to make it all happen and there was a great deal synthesize emotionally. Unlike, the rest of the entries I have posted here since this blog started, this post is not solely about my genealogy research.  

September 27, 2024 Hurricane Helene caused our home to flood. We were lucky compared to our neighbors, we sustained minimal damage. But enough damage that we needed to evacuate, lost power and then were told by condo management we all needed to empty our condos and move for the 3-6 months repairs were underway. Of the 300 units in our development 296 of them were deemed uninhabitable by FEMA. 

In the ten years I lived in Florida caring for my parents and working, I lived through five or so hurricanes, some big and scary, others minor. During each I worried about things.  I felt concern for our safety but knew I would do whatever I needed to keep us and a handful of our friends and neighbors safe and sound. And until now I had been successful. 

My genealogy research, documents and photos were packed and wrapped up and placed on a high table. If we evacuated I agonized over what to take and what to leave behind. I gave the same treatment of packing and wrapping to the samplers my grandmother made, my mom's wedding album and photo boxes, file folders of important documents and the few treasures my father left behind. 

The wind and rain of Helene didn't hit in full force until about 10pm. I was on the couch with my friend and neighbor, Millie. We were both wide awake, too scared to sleep and praying it was over soon. It was the first hurricane that we did not evacuate. 

My mom was fast asleep in her bed, how she could sleep, I do not know. I think now she was in denial, she was afraid. She was still not herself from a back surgery in August. Still in pain, her mobility was limited.  

By 11pm water was coming in under the front door. It was in the kitchen, the hall,  the bathroom and creeping into the dining room. The scene was the same by the back door, water coming under the back door and encroaching on the little TV room.  

As I said we were lucky. Extremely lucky. Millie and I sat in the dark, stunned. 

That was the totality of our damage. Days later, when the power came back, my fridge kicked right on. I was able to run my washer, dryer and dishwasher.  My water heater ran great and enabled me to shower everyday until we had to leave. Miracle of miracles my car started right up. 

It was random. Completely random. Neighbors to the left and right of me sustained serious damaged. Newly renovated homes were suddenly conduits for four or five feet of rushing water, mud and sewage. Friends lost closets full of clothes. Some of our neighbors needed to be rescued by boat.

My car started right up.I was able to drive Millie part of the way home, ducking around debris and downed branches. Not far from her house the road was blocked by a tree and we walked the rest of the way. 

Having since driven my car all over the Tampa Bay area as we shuffled from hotel to hotel, hospital to hospital. I had it checked over by more than one mechanic, who  would shrug their shoulders and say, "it's fine."

Eventually, I drove to the auto train near Orlando and after being deposited in Virginia drove north to Rockland County. To home. How my car is fine and other needed to be towed out of the complex I will never understand.  

Despite being ankle deep in water in some places and no power, we were safe. After bringing Millie home and a cursory check of her place, I tried to clean up my house. I used every towel and blanket and sheet I could find to soak up the water. 

I was naive, in some kind of denial and unsure what to do. How long would the power be out? How soon would we be breathing in mold? How do I keep things safe? Books, documents, photos, furniture, everything we own was a risk. Primary in my mind was my mom's health, her safety.

 I was imobile. I had no clue what to do or how to do it. We didn't evacuate because all the hotels were full. It didn't occur to me to leave our wet house with no power. I didn't think we had any options.  

Enter Colleen Fontana. My friend. My hero. A native Floridian, she taught me about hurricane preparedness and so much more.  

More soon.