The Day After the Storm

After our second night on the floor Irma had blown through Ocala as a Category 1 hurricane. It was very early when people started getting up and packing their things. Our classroom was interior with no windows and no power so it was very dark, but some came prepared with battery-powered lanterns and flashlights. Some used their cell phones to illuminate their way. In a matter of a couple of hours we were a few of the last people in the building. We couldn’t leave because we needed gas to go home.

We asked the police officer in the registration office and he told us gas was waiting on the Port of Tampa to open, they were bringing in fuel on tankers, but the winds had to fall below a certain level before they would open again. So we were pretty much stuck.

We had breakfast. We left our dungeon-like room for a exterior classroom with windows. Then we heard from the staff that they were consolidating everyone left in the cafeteria. We shuddered when we thought of the linoleum floor and our one blanket.

The power was still out but in the afternoon they got the generator working in the cafeteria and there was air conditioning once again. Both Kosta and I were beginning to crash hard–two nights on the unyielding floor with noisy neighbors left us sleep-deprived and longing for our bed. It was a long day of doing very little. I was too tired and distracted to read, and I ended up sitting and watching people while Kosta read my novel on his computer.

And then at dinner they made the announcement: due to the reopening of the high school on Wednesday, they were transferring all the remaining folks to a temporary shelter at Central Florida College.  Since we had a car and didn’t have to wait for the bus we jumped on it to get a choice spot of floor at the new place.

We were the second to arrive. We were shown to a large conference room that, mercifully, had air conditioning. There was a stage jutting out into the room and we found a tidy corner tucked behind it. We spread out our bedding and found that when we sat down we were quite hidden from the rest of the room. It was a nice as sleeping on a concrete floor in a roomful of strangers could be.

The Salvation Army gave us a hot meal and some reading material about Jesus. I was so grateful for the former I didn’t mind the latter at all. I looked around and saw a lot of people with nowhere to go. I knew that when we got gas again we would be on our way and how lucky we were to be in that position.

We settled down to sleep and groaned as our bruised tailbones hit the floor. It was a long night–well, not really–it just felt long. We were up before the dawn and out on our way to find gas before most of the rest had even rolled over in their sleep.

Post Hurricane Irma news: My agent and I have agreed the the book is ready to be submitted to publishers and he is shopping it around now! I am excited and terrified. It was so much work–a labor of love, to be sure–but it was a long time coming. I am ready for the next step up in the game.

Finger crossed for me, please!

 

2 thoughts on “The Day After the Storm

  1. Endless day and endless night. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I’m tired of sleeping in my clothes on, even if I unhook my bra. Today’s lunch was prefab PBJs. I don’t like PBJs. Fortunately I saved my string cheese and apples to have. The lady that gave me the blanket left while I was asleep and I don’t know how to return the blanket to her. I wanna go home.

    Like

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