Boy, do I hate hurricanes…
It gives the “weather experts” a whole week to mess with my mind and terrorize my thoughts before the hurricane actually arrives!
If I ever find that little guy from the Weather Channel who went from state to state standing in two feet of water at the beach measuring the winds while he “sometimes” held on to a fence, which happened to be conveniently alongside the beach where he was standing (my husband insists he travels with this fence), I will take that fence and curl it over his head.
Years ago, while preparing for a hurricane, I had to go out and clear away any possible “projectiles” that the little weather guy estimated that the 100 mph winds of the hurricane could blow away.
Clearing them away meant volunteering my husband for this project, a man who does not like to actually do the yard work and would rather delegate. According to him, everything on our property could resist 100 mph winds, so why should we move it?
It took me two days to clear everything out to the garage, including our tables and chairs, chaises, barbecue, flower pots, pool toys, and storage sheds. Ten days later, all of these items were still in the garage since it was September and my husband said, “We already moved them, so just leave them for the spring.”
I spent an entire Friday running from store to store to find batteries, a transistor radio (I don’t think I’ve used a transistor radio since the age of 12 when they were all the rage). One stop I made was at Lowe’s where you needed a traffic light to get through the lines of people wheeling out plywood to their cars and trucks to screw over their windows and doors. Lowe’s had no radios.
There is so much bottled water piled in my house that all of my future guests will be drinking water until the cows come home.
I taped my windows, secured my garbage shed, and even took down my American flag. Food was fully stocked in three locations. Batteries, flashlights, yahrzeit candles, analog phone, and emergency kit were already on the table. Window shades were lowered in case of broken glass. I even got out my father’s World War II helmet.
Ready for the storm to come, the phone rings with a message from an official telling us we had to evacuate after all this preparation. Since it was Erev Shabbos, I open up my map and say to myself: “Where is it safe to evacuate to—the hurricane is supposed to be everywhere?” I already said yes come to my mother and extended an invitation to my daughter and her six children since I am fifteen feet above sea level, according to a reliable source.
My mother suddenly decided to tell me about the flood in Louisville that she went through as a child and how it reached the second floor of the house and how vivid a memory it was for her up till today. She could have been an opening act for that little guy with the fence from the Weather Channel.
When we got the phone call that our satellite minyan was still on, I knew this was the sign to stay home.
The end of this story is that the hurricane turned in a different direction and never arrived!
So, before I sign off, here are some memorable quotes from officials who “helped” us to deal with a possible hurricane:
“Get off the beach, you’re done. You’re tanned enough!”
“If you haven’t evacuated already, it’s too late and too bad. You’ll just have to sit it out at home and don’t expect any help from us.”
“If your neighbor has electricity and you don’t, call us. If your neighbor has no electricity, we know about it, don’t call us, just wait.”
Boy, do I hate hurricanes! n
Anessa Cohen lives in Cedarhurst and is a Licensed Real Estate Broker (Anessa V Cohen Realty) with over 20 years of experience offering full service residential, management and commercial real estate services in the 5 towns of Long Island as well as the tri-state area. She can be reached at 516-569-5007 or Readers are encouraged to send any questions or scenarios by email to anessa@avcrealty.com.
