kshapero
South Florida Man
We dodged the bullet by about 40 miles. Just rain (9 inches) and wind. Feel so so bad for fellow humans living further west and north from us. Spent all day yesterday loading trucks with food and supplies for those in need. Please donate to the Red Cross.
farlymac
PF McFarland
Good to hear, Kivi. One of my older brothers lived in Stuart for a while, and they got two direct hits in three years, so they moved back to Indiana. Here in Roanoke we got around three inches of rain with lots of gusty winds on Friday night. I'm used to finding whole leaves blown onto my balcony during such events but this time they were shredded, attesting to the forces Ian still could wreak this far from landfall in Florida. Most of the wind damage in Virginia was done east of here as the center of the storm took a right turn at the NC border, sparing us the worst of what was left of the then tropical depression.
PF
PF
Rob-F
Likes Leicas
These are my thoughts after reading Kshapero's post:
I was born and grew up in Miami, and in past years I felt a sort of connectedness with my youth when I watched Stephanie Abrams, on The Weather channel, standing outdoors in the middle of a hurricane, bracing herself against the wind, holding up her wind speed measuring instrument and describing how the wind and water felt: "Like needles on my face." I liked watching the wind blowing, street signs flapping, things being swept along by the wind. I remember seeing all that happening from the safety of our home in Miami. Hurricanes were a yearly event, something of a yearly ritual of scouting outdoors before the storm for loose objects to be rounded up and brought inside. I remember Dad putting on his brown leather jacket to go supervise the theaters being boarded up properly. Mom had a Sterno emergency stove for cooking after the power went out. The power not only can go out; it WILL go out. Everyone stored up water in case the water went out. It never did. Once my brother's and my bedroom window flew open with the wind howling through. My dad actually pulled it shut against the hurricane force wind! For me, as a child, hurricanes were an adventure.
But Ian was no adventure for anyone. We saw the homes of families being reduced to splinters strewn across the landscape. Severe flooding. Boats, large and small, washed into piles. A causeway washed out, trapping people on Sanibel Island. I grieved at the scenes of devastation. My home state being destroyed. Watching a hurricane damaging a place one hasn't been and has no emotional connection to is one thing; seeing your own home state torn up is another. I had to stop watching. And I don't think I'll be watching hurricanes on TV ever again. I'm sure survivors of Katrina and other disastrous storms feel the same way.
Yes kshapero I will donate to the Red Cross. I'm so glad you are ok.
I was born and grew up in Miami, and in past years I felt a sort of connectedness with my youth when I watched Stephanie Abrams, on The Weather channel, standing outdoors in the middle of a hurricane, bracing herself against the wind, holding up her wind speed measuring instrument and describing how the wind and water felt: "Like needles on my face." I liked watching the wind blowing, street signs flapping, things being swept along by the wind. I remember seeing all that happening from the safety of our home in Miami. Hurricanes were a yearly event, something of a yearly ritual of scouting outdoors before the storm for loose objects to be rounded up and brought inside. I remember Dad putting on his brown leather jacket to go supervise the theaters being boarded up properly. Mom had a Sterno emergency stove for cooking after the power went out. The power not only can go out; it WILL go out. Everyone stored up water in case the water went out. It never did. Once my brother's and my bedroom window flew open with the wind howling through. My dad actually pulled it shut against the hurricane force wind! For me, as a child, hurricanes were an adventure.
But Ian was no adventure for anyone. We saw the homes of families being reduced to splinters strewn across the landscape. Severe flooding. Boats, large and small, washed into piles. A causeway washed out, trapping people on Sanibel Island. I grieved at the scenes of devastation. My home state being destroyed. Watching a hurricane damaging a place one hasn't been and has no emotional connection to is one thing; seeing your own home state torn up is another. I had to stop watching. And I don't think I'll be watching hurricanes on TV ever again. I'm sure survivors of Katrina and other disastrous storms feel the same way.
Yes kshapero I will donate to the Red Cross. I'm so glad you are ok.