A Crazy Week
At our age, some weeks are slow and predictable. Others take on more challenges. Then there are the weeks that make you crazier than a sprayed roach. The latter described this last week for me.
We just got home last night from a week in Key West that my wife secretly organized for my 75th birthday. (I can remember some of our so-called OLD teachers who were in their mid-40’s, not 75). I found out the planning for 4 other couples to join us had been going on for months.
I must admit that a visit to Key West is memorable to say the least. No, we didn’t see any of the wild stuff that starts tomorrow with Fantasy Fest. For me, I don’t even get nekkid in a room with a mirror.
I challenge anyone reading this to do what we did for a week: pick any 4 nonrelated couples to share a 4-bedroom, 2 bath vacation house for 6 nights and have ZERO arguments, disagreements or meltdowns. Our biggest problems when it came to decisions were too many saying the same thing together “It doesn’t matter to me.” This included a full Saturday at a sports bar watching football games from early to late. It was even more challenging for the “Bama birthday boy” to be outnumbered by 3 couples who bleed Georgia black and red. The other couple are diehard Buckeye fans. That totals everyone except Susan who pulls for Auburn, even on their bye weekend.
Food, fun, exploring the Conch Republic, a sunset cruise, a road trip to No Name Pub, fishing off the back pier, left-right-center game, karaoke along with continuous laughs made for a complete celebration. The oldest was 76 and the baby of the group was 60. We truly lived by the motto “growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.”
All of us on the trip either live full time in Destin or Santa Rosa Beach or have condos here. When we flew in last Wednesday, Hurricane Isaias was predicted to hit land around the Flora Bama on the Florida-Alabama line. We live 2 hours east of there. Safe.
Each of us looked like a bunch of middle schoolers as we sat around, studying our cell phones. All focus was on the goofy- named hurricane. Since most of us were either Bama or Georgia fans, we all became meteorologists “knowing” where the storm was going to hit. We watched constantly, hoping it would pass through Tuscaloosa in time for the game to be played.
None of us had any idea that our homes were going to end up being the center of the bullseye as the storm kept moving to the east. The predicted cone changed to Pensacola, then Navarre, then Fort Walton Beach and finally Destin and Walton County. Suddenly, the concern wasn’t as much about the game as it was about our houses.
If you’ve never been in the hurricane cone of destruction (like me), you start thinking of everything. For me, I caught myself staring at the ceiling before daylight, asking myself, “did I pay our homeowners and flood insurance premiums?” Naturally, I called my agent early on Friday to be reassured before the winds hit. My agent said his phone had been ringing off the hook for 3 days. (Yes, I was covered.)
We stayed in touch with Susan’s cousin, Greg, who stayed in our cottage and found that the power went out on Friday night. There was a lot of damage throughout Okaloosa and Walton County. Our big concerns are the fact we only live 2 miles to the beach and less than half a mile to the bay and have tall pines in our front yard. Our horses at South Bay Stables were evacuated to the northern part of the county, to a safer facility. This entire area is about 20 feet above sea level at the highest point.
By the Grace of God, we had very little damage, compared to others. The hurricane winds took out some tree limbs, a small tree, part of the privacy fence by the pool, a couple of screen windows, and spoiled items in the freezer and fridge. That’s the price you pay for living close to the beach.
It’s the same price that my friends who live in most of Alabama, better known as “tornado alley,” must pay. I have been within a mile of tornadoes in Tuscaloosa, Wetumpka, Muscle Shoals and Tanner. The major difference: you know almost a week ahead to get ready for a hurricane. For tornadoes, they sometime crop up in hours, without warning. Alabamians still talk about the Tuscaloosa tornados that changed the city’s landscape and the famous 1974 Tanner and Huntsville tornados.
Hurricanes can take away a lot of “things.” Things can be replaced. Loved ones can’t be replaced. Hurricanes can’t take away our hopes, our dreams and our faith. If nothing else, hurricanes end up doing the opposite by restoring our faith.
What a week!