I think everyone has heard about the hurricane parties in Florida. I was born and raised in Tallahassee, Florida. Tallahassee is almost always in the path of the hurricanes that hit Florida (we apparently have tornados now too? Three tornados went through Florida State's campus at the same time...).
When I was younger, I would know a hurricane was coming because of the sound the tv makes when you are watching the weather channel, and they are tracking a hurricane. It would be a constant sound in my house until the hurricane had moved past. Growing up in a place where hurricanes are hardly mentioned because they are so frequent, preparing for them have become second nature.
Hurricane parties can be fun, having your close friends all in the same house and playing games with no responsibilities until the storm passes because there is no work or school open. The catch? A tree falling on your house in the middle of a hurricane party, and everyone has to work together to cover the hole in the roof. The owners of the house are distraught, and they are not able to process their emotions because they have guests over.
I have a routine that I follow when a hurricane is announced. I check and see what the potential paths are. I get gas very early and top off my gas anytime that I see a gas station does not have a line around the block. I moved to Gulfport one year ago so I had to adjust to not being in Tallahassee for the warning signs of a hurricane. Once I hear that a hurricane is a week out, I start checking the weather channel estimated paths and hurricane speed/strength at least twice a day. As it gets closer, I check it more often. For Hurricane Idalia, I was in contracts class at 8:30 in the morning, checking the weather updates more than I could care to admit (it never left the right half of my screen). When I noticed how big the storm was getting and the new projections, I knew the school would close. Sure enough, an hour after my class ended, the school sent the email canceling class. I already had a bag packed just in case the storm got worse.
There is one thing that almost every Floridian does during a hurricane that non-Floridians have a hard time understanding. The Waffle House debate. Especially for people who live in Tallahassee and other parts of Florida that get hit often, Waffle House is a huge sign to us. If Waffle House is open, everything is fine, and no one needs to be overly concerned. If Waffle House is closed, you will see people panic. Waffle House has generators, and they will be open with or without power 24/7 without fail. If a Waffle House near you is closed, that is a very bad sign about what is to come. The last time a hurricane closed a Waffle House in Tallahassee, it was Hurricane Michael in 2018 and people were without power for two weeks (some even longer).
Once Stetson canceled classes, I noticed that the Waffle House on St. Pete Beach was closed. I drove home, grabbed my bag that I already had packed, unplugged my electronics in case of a power surge, and drove home to Tallahassee. Unfortunately for me, the storm turned and ended up coming to Tallahassee. Luckily, my house in Tallahassee recently had a Generac generator installed so we had power. I was lucky that I bought my IPad with cellular, otherwise my laptop would be using my personal hotspot for a long time since the WIFI was out for days.
During hurricanes and disasters, cell phones can be shut off so that only emergency lines can go through. If you are lucky enough to have a FirstNet First Responder account through AT&T, your phone will work like it is any other day. First Responders also get a discount on their phone plans with FirstNet.
Growing up in Florida, I have heard many Governors and Mayors speak about hurricanes on the news, but only one line stood out to me. "Things can be replaced, people can't." Governor Ron DeSantis says this every time there is a hurricane heading to Florida. I think it is important to remember that once the hurricane hits, no first responders are coming to help until after the hurricane passes and the roads are open.
The whole Waffle House thing was new to me when we arrived in Florida from Michigan at the end of 2001. During our first two summer/fall seasons in Florida in 2002 and 2003, there were no major storms, so we gave hurricanes little thought.
ReplyDeleteThen 2004 hit with a vengeance. It started with Charley on Friday, August 13, and continued for what seemed like a hurricane every week through the end of September. It was madness. After Charley, there was Frances, Ivan, and Jeanne in quick succession.
My Crohn's disease led to emergency surgery in the middle of Frances over the Labor Day weekend. With no telephone communication, my wife and kids didn't know if I survived the surgery until a couple of days later. I distinctly remember water being blown into my hospital room as I was recovering. The nurses had to move my bed away from the window so I wouldn't get wet. The hospital had generators, but they were trying to conserve power, so it was very dark in my room and the adjacent hallway.
Frances was barely a Cat1 by the time it came across the state from the Atlantic side and reached us. The lesson is that any hurricane is dangerous and can have a profound impact on your life. Just ask the people in Houston today still waiting for power to come back on after Cat1 Hurricane Beryl.
It's fascinating to read about your experiences with hurricanes in Florida, especially the unique culture around hurricane parties and the Waffle House indicator! I grew up in South Florida, in Miami-Dade County, and I distinctly remember 2004 when we were hit with three hurricanes in six weeks. Experiencing that as a kid naturally taught me to always be prepared for natural disasters, and I always stock up on water and dry food in case of an emergency. It's incredible how second nature preparing for hurricanes has become for millennials who grew up in Florida. Your routine and vigilance are impressive, and your account of balancing law school with hurricane preparedness during Hurricane Idalia is a testament to your resilience. The advice from Governor DeSantis is a poignant reminder of the importance of safety over material possessions during these intense storms. Thank you for sharing such a vivid and insightful perspective on life in hurricane-prone Florida; it was also nostalgic to be reminded of hurricane parties, a memory I will never forget.
ReplyDeleteI was living in Tallahassee in 2018 during hurricane Michael. I was in grad school and I was alone. I finished grad school in December of 2018, two months after this hurricane. My boyfriend and close friends had moved out of Tallahassee at that time and I was really just in town with the people in my grad program.
ReplyDeleteI didn't have power for 17 days. Thankfully, my parents lived in Jacksonville at the time and I was able to get home after three days and then I returned to Tallahassee once my power was restored. It sure is easy to dismiss these storms as seasoned Floridians, but the truth is, we are all one BIG storm away from losing everything we own and potentially our lives.
I force myself to take storms more seriously now and I always keep basics in my home.
A hurricane party is a great idea! During Hurricane Ian, we lost power for over a week. We ended up crashing our friends' house while they were out of town. We had a generator at the time but also a newborn baby and the air conditioning unit we had wasn't quite up to the task. So, when we learned that our friends' house had power, we asked if they would mind if we stayed at their place. We were there for two nights until the power came on at our own place. It turned out that a giant oak tree had crushed a house (and all the power lines on our street) three houses down from us. Evidently that's why we were without power for so long.
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