What follows is a discussion of what to expect during and after Hurricane Idalia comes ashore. Some of what is listed here will undoubtedly be true of many parts of the Southeast in the coming days and weeks. I am indebted to a friend in Florida for this information. Take from this what works for you.
A category 3+ storm can erase structures, buildings and familiar landscape. Idalia is expected to be similar in forward speed to Hurricane Charley which impacted the SW coast of Florida in 2004, but the storm itself will be bigger, wider and carry a larger eyewall. Some moderate coastal topography will likely change in the 60-mile-wide area of immediate impact/landfall.
Some infrastructure failure should be anticipated, and it will take weeks for restoration. The coastal communities are the most vulnerable; however, the inland impact of this specific storm will be much more significant as the large storm continues unimpeded until the entire eye-wall crosses onto land.
That means communities inland all the way to Georgia and South Carolina could feel hurricane force winds, possibly for several hours. That scale of sustained wind energy will snap power poles and reinforced concrete.
As the backside of the storm then reverses the energy direction, any already compromised structures may not withstand the additional pressure. In many cases the backside of the storm is worse than the front. If you are inland, prepare yourself for a long duration of extensive wind damage followed by an extended power outage.
For those who are in the path of the storm, there comes a time when all options are removed, and you enter the “Hunkering Down” phase. You’re just about there now.
Fortunately, just like Charley, this particular hurricane will move fast and that might mitigate some of the coastal storm surge (only one part of one tidal cycle). However, in totality from impact through recovery this is going to be a long-duration event.
When the sustained winds reach around 45mph most emergency services stop. This makes things a heck of a lot safer in the aftermath; and much easier and safer during the rebuild.
♦ Hurricanes can be frightening; downright scary. There’s nothing quite like going through a few to reset your outlook on just how Mother Nature can deliver a cleansing cycle to an entire geographic region.
The sounds are scary. Try to stay calm despite the nervousness. Telephone and power poles, yes, even the concrete ones, can, and likely will, snap like toothpicks. Trees will bend and break. When the roof shingles are peeling off, it sounds like horses running across your roof. The sounds are dramatic.
There’s a specific sound when you are inside a hurricane that you can never forget. It ain’t a howl, it’s a roar. It is very unique sound in depth and weight. Yes, within a hurricane wind has weight. Stay clear of windows and doors, and within an interior room of the house or apartment if possible. That scary roar sounds like it won’t ever quit…. it will… eventually; but at the time you are hunkering down, it doesn’t seem like it will ever end.
A hurricane wind is a constant and pure rage of wind that doesn’t ebb and flow like normal wind and storms. Hurricane wind is heavy, it starts, builds and stays; sometimes for hours. Relentless, it just won’t let up. The constant rage is fueled by simultaneous surges inside it. Just like the water that fuels her, Idalia will deliver a rage of wind energy that has surges within the relentless force.
And then, suddenly, depending on Idalia’s irrelevant opinion toward your insignificant presence, it will stop. Judging by the forward speed the hurricane force wind will likely last around 2 to 3 hours before it stops.
Then silence. No birds. No frogs. No crickets. No sound.
Nature goes mute. It’s weird.
We have no idea how much ambient noise is around us, until it stops.
Due to the speed of the storm, there will be convoys coming to construct a pre-planned electricity grid recovery process even before nightfall tomorrow.
Convoys from every city, town and state from the east-coast to the mid-west. A glorious melding of dirty fingernails all arriving for the meet-up.
Depending on your proximity to the bigger picture objectives at hand, you will cherish their arrival.
But first, there will be an assessment.
The convoys will stage at pre-determined locations using radios for communication. Most cell phone services will likely be knocked out. Recovery teams will begin a street-by-street review; everything needs to be evaluated prior to thinking about beginning to rebuild a grid. Your patience within this process is needed; heck, it ain’t like you’ve got a choice in the matter…. so just stay positive.
Meanwhile, you might walk outside and find yourself a stranger in your neighborhood.
It will all be cattywampus.
Trees gone, signs gone, crap everywhere, if you don’t need to travel, DON’T.
I mean CRAP e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e.
Stay away from power-lines.
Try to stay within your immediate neighborhood for the first 36-48 hours. Keep the roadways and main arteries clear for recovery workers, power companies and fuel trucks.
Be entirely prepared to be lost in your own neighborhood and town for days, weeks, and even months. Unknown to you – your subconscious mind is like a human GPS mapping system. When that raging Idalia takes away the subconscious landmarks I guarantee you – you are gonna get lost, make wrong turns, miss the exit etc.
It’s kinda funny and weird at the same time.
Your brain is wired to turn left at the big oak next to the Church, and the road to your house is likely two streets past the 7-11 or Circle-k. You don’t even notice that’s how you travel around town; that’s just your brain working – it is what it is.
Well, now the big oak is gone; so too is the Circle-K and 7-11 signs. Like I said, everything is cattywampus. Your brain-memory will need to reboot and rewire. In the interim, you’re gonna get lost… don’t get frustrated.
No street signs. Likely no stop signs. No traffic lights.
Remember, when it is safe to drive, every single intersection must be treated like a four-way stop…. and YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO PAY ATTENTION. Even the major intersections.
You’ll need to override your brain tendency to use memory in transit. You’ll need to pay close attention and watch for those who ain’t paying close attention. Travel sparingly, it’s just safer.
Check on your-self first, then your neighbors. It don’t matter if you’ve never said a word to the guy in the blue house before. It ain’t normalville now.
Break out of your box and check on the blue house down the street too. In the aftermath, there’s no class structure. Without power, the big fancy house on the corner with a pool is just a bigger mess. Everyone is equally a mess.
The first responders in your neighborhood are YOU.
You, the wife, your family, Mrs. Wilson next door; Joe down the street; Bob’s twin boys and the gal with the red car are all in this together. If you don’t ordinarily cotton to toxic masculinity, you will worship it in the aftermath of a hurricane. Git-r-done lives there.
Don’t stand around griping with a 40′ tree blocking the main road to your neighborhood. Figure out who’s got chainsaws, who knows how to correctly use them, and set about safely clearing the road. If every neighborhood starts clearing their own roadways, the recovery crews can then move in for the details.
Stage one focuses on major arteries… then secondary… then neighborhood etc. It’s a process. Oh, and don’t get mad if your fancy mailbox is ploughed-over by a focused front end loader who is on a priority mission to clear a path. Just deal with it. Those same front-end loaders will also be removing feet of sand from coastal roads. Don’t go sightseeing… stay in your neighborhood.
For the first 36-48 hours, please try to stay close to home, in your neighborhood. Another reason to stay close to home is the sketchy people who can sometimes surface, looters etc. Staying close to home and having contact with your neighbors is just reasonable and safer.
Phase-1 recovery is necessarily, well, scruffy…. we’re just moving and managing the mess; not trying to clean it up yet. It’ll be ok. There are going to be roofing nails everywhere, and you will likely get multiple flat tires in the weeks after the hurricane.
After this storm half of the people living near the impact zone are going to fit into two categories, two types of people: (1) those with a new roof; or (2) those with a blue roof (tarp).
Keep a joyous heart filled with thankfulness; and if you can’t muster it, then just pretend. Don’t be a jerk. You will be surrounded by jerks…. elevate yourself. If you need to do a few minutes of cussing, take a walk. Keep your wits about you and stay calm.
Now, when the recovery teams arrive…. If you are on the road and there’s a convoy of utility trucks on the road, pull over. Treat power trucks and tanker trucks like ambulances and emergency vehicles. Pull over, give them a clear road and let them pass.
When everyone gets to work, if you see a lineman, pole-digger or crew say thanks. Just simple “thanks”. Wave at them and give them a thumbs-up. No need to get unnecessarily familiar, a simple: “thank you for your help” will suffice. You know, ordinary people skills. The stuff that was common before the internet.
Many of these smaller crews will be sleeping in cots, or in their trucks while they are working never-ending shifts. Some will be staging at evacuation shelters, likely schools and such. The need to shelter people and recovery crews might also delay the re-opening of schools.
Once you eventually start getting power back, if you see a crew in a restaurant, same thing applies… “thanks guys”. If you can pay their tab, do it. If you can pay their tab without them knowing, even better.
Same goes for the tanker truckers. The convenience stores with gas pumps are part of the priority network. Those will get power before other locales without power. Fuel outlets are a priority. Fuel is the lifeblood of recovery. Hospitals, first responders, emergency facilities, fuel outlets, then comes commercial and residential.
Remember, this is important – YOU are the first responder for your neighborhood. Don’t quit. Recovery is a process. Depending on the scale of the impact zone, the process can take days, weeks and even months.
Take care of your family first; then friends and neighborhood, and generally make a conscious decision to be a part of any needed solution.
Pray together and be strong together. It might sound goofy to some, but don’t be bashful about being openly thankful in prayer.
It will be ok.
It might be a massive pain in the a**, but in the end, it’ll be ok.
Keep a good thought. Who knows, we might even end up shaking hands.
It’ll be OK. I Promise.
Love to all,