Here’s how I fought Hurricane Irene last weekend in Philadelphia, PA:
- Drove wife and son to be with family in northern Va as they prepared to vacation in, gulp, Corolla, NC this week.
- Watched news at mother-in-law’s house. Wondered if Outer Banks would still exist.
- Drove home to Philly at 6 AM. Caught in traffic twice behind terrible accidents. Wondered if I’d be stuck in traffic for hours both times.
- Upon arriving home, made perfunctory gestures at shoring up basement storage.
- Ate hot dog lunch in a light rain at Memphis Taproom Beer Garden.
- Ratcheted up panic by watching national and local news outlets.
- Didn’t eat dinner. Drank a pitcher of daiquiris instead while watching Bourne Supremacy with friends.
- Hid in bathroom, then basement during tornado watch.
- Fell asleep around midnight.
- Awoke to howling rain at 2:43 am.
- Checked basement and ceilings. Found no leaks.
- Tried falling asleep. Couldn’t.
- Stayed awake until dawn when storm relented.
- Walked over to friend’s house for coffee.
I still can’t believe that my house made it through relatively unscathed. Watching Twitter and Facebook I read a litany of things going wrong at friends’ homes throughout the region and I just couldn’t believe my house — which has leaked repeatedly — would be spared. (Here’s where I take a moment to praise Reiter Roofing, as well as Port Fishington’s relative high ground for a riverward community.)
I slept like the dead last night. I still feel completely exhausted. Helen and Charlie will be in the Outer Banks tomorrow morning. I can’t wait to join them on Friday.