CHAPTER 1
A Survey of Stress and Challenges For Change
Life is like a hurricane. My literal hurricane blew throughwith Hurricane Charlie on Friday, August 13, 2004.
While spending the summer in Vail, Colorado, enjoying thefresh mountain air and the many summer activities that Coloradohas to offer, I was still commuting to my home in Sanibel Island,Florida, to see clients for follow-up appointments on a monthlybasis. When I flew to Fort Myers the second week of August 2004,little did I know that I would be spending the week preparing for ahurricane. Most of my clients had cancelled, for they had to makepreparations themselves.
Hurricane Charlie, Sanibel Island, Florida,August 13, 2004
I have evacuated about four times in situations when the islandwas threatened with hurricanes in the previous years, and we wereblessed to have escaped any major damage. So as luck would have it,when Charlie was threatening the west coast of Florida, I decidedthis time to "ride it out" and stay home since the predictions werenot for a direct hit. Unfortunately, an hour and a half before thehurricane's arrival, the storm took a turn for the Sanibel-CaptivaIslands.
The electricity had been turned off, and my only source ofcommunication was my cell phone. Friends began calling andasking me if there was any way that I could get off the island. Theyhad learned on the weather report that the storm was headingright toward the island and it was a category 4, a major hurricane.I explained why I thought I needed to stay put as opposed to tryingto leave. My car might not make it off the island, and I would bestuck here anyway. Also, I didn't think the storm would be thatbad. Others were not evacuating, and I just wanted to be in myown home despite the evacuation warnings. The storm did come,and it was so intense that I shut my bedroom door and went intomy walk-in closet where there were no windows. The wind howledso intensely that I thought every window would blow out and theroof would come off.
The first twenty minutes seemed like hours as I stood huddledin my little closet and waited nervously until the storm passed. Mycell phone worked on and off, and I received calls from friends inother states asking how I was faring.
I asked them, "Do you know when this will be over? It seemslike it is taking forever!" I was reassured that it would end soonas they nervously watched the Weather Channel and saw the eyeright where I was! It wasn't until later that they all told me howscared they were for my safety and well-being. That was theirkind way of saying, "Connie, how could you be so stupid and notevacuate?" I felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz when she landedafter the tornado in Kansas. I felt as if I wasn't on Sanibel anymore.I looked out my window and I was disoriented. All the trees weredown. I could not open my front door. I saw houses I had neverseen from my dismantled porch as I looked down the canal in theback of the house. What had just happened was unbelievable. Toget down the stairs I had to clear tree branches, sticks, shinglesfrom my roof. I crawled over fallen trees and debris and made itdown the street to the Island Store on the main road across fromthe beach. A few people walked in and out as I did in a completedaze. No one could really talk since we were all in a state of shock.The owner of the store opened and had ice and supplies for folkswho remained on the island. I asked the owner if I could take adisposable camera and pay him the next day. With no electricityand therefore no air conditioning, it did not take long to get hot asblazes. I had candles, a flashlight, and knew which neighbors hadstayed to ride out the storm.
We all had a gathering later that evening once the shock hadworn off. The next morning I woke up early and decided to exploreCaptiva since some friends had homes there and would surelywonder how their homes had fared. I could take photos and callthem with a report. By the time I crawled over the tree branchesand maneuvered by bicycle to get to the beach, the sun was outbright and it was really hot. The beach was free of debris, so off Iwent biking from Blind Pass where I lived to Captiva Island. Bythe time I reached Captiva, my face was starting to burn. I hadremembered to bring water and the camera but had forgottensunscreen. I never thought I could be lost on the tiny island, but itwas even more devastated and unrecognizable than Sanibel. Treesand cable lines were down everywhere, and I could not determinewhere I was.
It all looked like a jungle. I finally found one of my friend'shomes. A tree had gone through the roof, through the pool screen,and into the pool. It wasn't long before word got around that Iremained on the island, and the calls began filtering in that evening.I was getting calls from people I didn't even know who asked if Icould check on their homes. Later that evening the National Guardwas out. I was stopped on the side of the road by the Sanibel Policeand told that the Guard would "hold a gun to my head" (there wasa curfew) if I didn't go home. Now if that didn't send off a stressalarm I don't know what could!
I told the officer that I was using my cell phone to return callsand trying to help people who were inquiring about the status oftheir homes. There was no compassion from the officer. It wouldtake years to repair damaged homes and for the island to begin tolook like its old self.
No matter what happens, it is really our attitude toward the eventthat determines our feelings and how we choose to cope. Many timeslife can be like a hurricane with its intensity and turmoil. Since thatmemorable day in 2004, there have been horrific storms, floods, andearthquakes globally where people have lost lives, loved ones, homesand villages; life, for them, seemed as if it would never return to normal.There have been wars and terror attacks with many lives lost. Yet, ifone survives such a catastrophe, one's life is changed forever.
I was beyond fortunate. I did not lose my home. Because thedevastation overwhelmed the insurance companies, it took overa year for repairs to be...
