God puts people in our lives and offers us accountability through our relationships. In those times when emotions (or sometimes even logic) impact our ability to hear the Holy Spirit clearly, those people can speak wisdom and truth to help us make our way.
Zone A – mandatory evacuation. That was not what anyone wanted to hear on that Tuesday morning. What are the realistic options when a hurricane is barreling toward Tampa? Can’t go south. Can’t go north. Inland is a swamp. Not much to choose from. We live in a second-story condo with hurricane windows, and I felt comfortable staying. Sure, we’d probably lose power and maybe get some wind damage, but I’ve lived here 22 years now and know that storm surges don’t hit our area. Staying felt safe.
Insert a differing opinion. My husband is a first responder and was notified Tuesday afternoon that he’d be required to be within the Cape Coral city limits by 7PM that night. It didn’t feel quite as safe riding out the storm without him, but our daughter was with me, and I still thought it was the best choice. He had an alternative idea, however—come to Cape Coral where he would be and stay with friends. That did not feel like a comfortable option for many reasons: the storm had shifted and was making a beeline for Fort Myers, Cape Coral is a city of canals, and hurricane houseguests are an added stress. The only item on the pro side of the list was that it would make things easier for my husband. He would know that we were safe and be able to focus on his work. So, we started packing our evacuation bags.
The longest 12 hours. Although the storm didn’t officially make landfall until 3PM, the bands were constant and intense as early as 9AM—that’s when we lost internet; the power held on until around noon. Our friends’ lanai was ripped from the building at close to 2:30PM, just before the eye passed. The last major bands passed us around 9PM.
Coming home. Driving from Cape Coral to San Carlos Park the next morning was surreal. It was impossible to stop the flow of tears at seeing the destruction surrounding us—power poles snapped in half blocking northbound traffic lanes, boats on Cape Coral Parkway, dumpsters in intersections, and not a single street sign to guide the way. The normal 40-minute drive took nearly two hours. There were no working traffic lights in Cape Coral or Fort Myers, and first responders were just beginning to assess the damages in the light of day.
When we turned into our community, I was astonished. The entry road was flooded on both the left and right. My daughter parked on the side, and we began to wade through the shin-deep water, amused by the fish swimming around us. As we circled the community, getting closer to our home, there was much less water in the roadway, and I was hopeful. Upon opening the door, we found significant mud in our entry area that looked like footprints; I could only assume my husband had already been by to check—we still had no cell service. We found everything upstairs to be intact and no concerning damage. It wasn’t until we began talking with the neighbors that the story played out.
Father knows best. Our community flooded during the storm and the resulting surge. Every downstairs unit had a minimum of six inches inside the home and up to three feet of surge in garages (yes, mine too) and other areas. My heart broke as I heard the stories. The fear of those who stayed as water slowly entered their homes and the realization that there was nowhere to go as the water level continued to rise. The shock and disbelief on every face were images I had only seen in photos of war-torn countries. There were no words. Hugs and tears were the conversations of the day. In an instant, people who had been strangers to me became friends. My heart swelled with gratitude as I began to understand exactly what my Father had protected me from, and I was flooded with relief that we had listened to the wisdom of the Holy Spirit’s leading.
by Director of Communications Michaela Carson
