50 Days ‘til 50: Day 43 - Andrew and After

At lunch today we met a lovely Irish couple whom after talking about the usual introductory stuff asked us about the hurricane in Texas. We acknowledged that we did indeed have friends who lived in Houston and from their messages to us they were all ok. One couple had moved her friends in with them into their house. Their friends home had filled to the top of their kitchen counters with water. Basically they lost everything. A lifetime of memories now submerged under the murky waters. Two other friends, sisters who moved their last year from Palm Springs were also ok. Living on the second floor they were going to be fine but described the pandemonium of having to find a place to park their cars to higher ground and then getting back to their place and their dogs. Since we've left the States for our summer holiday abroad less than a week ago a natural disaster has all but leveled the Texas coast, a family member passed away, our beloved California sits under a brutal heatwave, and we are just starting to catch our breath of being away from our daily routines. Life is certainly an intense ride at times.After lunch as we were waking back to our place my mind was also flooded, with memories. Lots of memories. I lived on South Beach the year of the other worst hurricane of our times, Andrew. Of course we didn't take it that serious back then. When you live in Florida the news has a way of torturing you for weeks before the storms hit, if they ever do. They broadcast almost 24 hours a day, weeks before the storm makes any sort of landfall. Living on the beach at that time however this one was different. They knew it was big and they knew it was coming toward us. As required, the evacuation orders were posted and we had to leave. No question about it. There were six of us and four pets. We found a motel in North Miami that had one room left which we took immediately. Loading up in two cars we arrived at the motel with the appropriate snacks and drinks prepared to stay up all night until the storm passed. It came ashore just after midnight and as usual with any storm in Florida the power immediately went out. In the dark we could hear transformers popping and the rain and wind smacking the side of the motel. Slowly each one of us fell asleep crowded onto the two beds and on the floor using towels and whatever we could find in the room for some makeshift bedding. It wasn't so bad, we thought.The next morning we awoke, hungry and tired and ready to return to our little island of Miami Beach. The causeways were closed and were to reopen that evening. Not knowing much of what had happened we assumed our apartments were still intact and we we stayed with friends who lived close to the causeway back over to the beach until it opened later that night. Having no power or television we could only make out some news on the radio that said, "At the last minute the storm which was supposed to hit the north part of Miami turned and came ashore and went south and it was a category 5 direct hit into the south part of Miami. My partners parents lived in the very south of Miami. An area mainly inhabited by farm workers. Crops like strawberries and tomatoes, avocados and dates were grown their as well as nurseries of plants, palm trees, and other tropical foliage. As we couldn't reach them by phone we decided we would drive down to see them the next morning. Surely it couldn't be that bad we tried to convince ourselves. Our homes were fine, some sand had blown ashore onto Ocean Drive, trees were down and the power was out but it wasn't that bad. We truly weren't ready for what was to come.The following morning we got into our car, with our full gas tank and some blankets and towels, canned foods, some extra water bottles we had, anything we could think of that they might need. This was also just before cell phones became as common as sliced bread. We all didn't have one just yet so the news was still scarce. We had made that drive many of times before to visit his parents. A quick zip down the 826 into the Redlands, turn right and in about 35 minutes you were there. That was before.The first thing we noticed was there weren't any trees that normally graced the highways, in fact there weren't any trees standing at all, anywhere. It didn't register at first but it did strike as as odd we acknowledged to each other. We got to our exit onto the 826 and then it hit us. The National Guards lined across the highway stopping each car. Asking us where we were going, we told them we were going to check on his parents in Goulds. At first they said "No, that there was nothing left down there and for our safety we were to turn back to our homes."One thing I learned having a Cuban boyfriend is you don't tell them No. I still don't remember what he told the Guards but miraculously they let us pass and continue on. Not even a mile down the highway we had to start driving off into the edges of the highway, weaving our way around trees and palm frawns, pieces of debris, mailboxes, roof tiles, and even partial pieces of the actual roofs. I started looking for the usual points that we used as our guides along the way. The CVS on that corner, the Barnett bank on that corner, etc. They weren't there anymore. Nothing was there. It was as if a fire had ripped through the area and blackened everything. Now full of panic and dread we kept on, shaking in our shoes and holding each other's hands. To this day I don't know how we made it to their house. Instinct, pure self will, fear, probably all of it together. We found them in a structure that used to be a barn, now a half shell of a building. They had huddled together inside an old freezer that was stored in the corner to ride out the storm. We asked them again, "You stayed inside the freezer?" They nodded and told us "We thought the world was coming to an end." We hugged them tight and in that moment knew that things weren't going to be the same in the city of Miami. They were without power for six months, rebuilt their house and never left that area. For it was their home and even Mother Nature at her most cruel wouldn't keep them from staying where they lived and loved. Stories like theirs happened all over the city in the months to follow. People spray painted their home insurance policy numbers on their roofs to be seen from the air as you couldn't get to them as the roads were gone. The roads we traveled almost every day. Some people just left altogether never to return. It was horrific and we felt like we lived in a war zone. Not our beautiful Miami.Something happened after that time. The communities became tighter than ever. Neighbors had to become neighbors, real neighbors. Cooking for them on a backyard grill because they didn't have a kitchen anymore. Taking them to appointments in car pools because they didn't have cars anymore. Stretched to their human limits everyone helped everyone. It was truly miraculous to witness and be a part of. A time in my life I will never forget.Slowly by slowly the houses were rebuilt. The neighborhoods were reconstructed. The roads were rebuilt. The city came back. Better than before. Scarred but stronger. Out of the worst of times comes some of the best of times even though it doesn't seem it in the moment. I got my dog shortly after the storm as the shelters were overrun with animals lost and battered from the storm. I couldn't bare the thought and adopted one without even thinking twice about it. She remained at my side for the next 14 years. A true loving companion born from disaster.Those of you who have been through disasters, plagues, horrible times, well we are all scarred. How can we not be? We carry them with us through this life. Life wounds I suppose. It pushes us to our limits but we make it. Somehow we make it and we carry on.To all those who are suffering right now, all those who's lives have been ripped out from under you, you too will survive. You will be stronger and better than before. You will know great love and strength in these most darkest of hours, from the most unexpected of places and people. We did and so will you.❤️❤️jf