A childhood memory of mine is when a wind storm hit in 1993. I can remember my school bus slamming on its brakes as a tree fell five feet in front of the bus. I remember the bus driver backing up, cautiously, as another tree was hanging on power lines behind us ready to fall at any moment. All of us kids applauded once we were past the tree, probably unaware of how dangerous our situation truly was. I can still remember looking out the school bus window as the driver dropped us kids off, trees falling everywhere and hitting various houses. I remember getting off the bus and running up our driveway and to the back door and running to the other door, the one with the doorbell since of course I had forgotten my house key.

Needless to say, I’m used to wind storms. They’ve been apart of my life.

Tropical storms and hurricanes? Not so much.

It was not so much of a shock when I moved to Phoenix and experienced monsoon season. They had typhoons in Japan and rainy season so I was pretty well versed in that. I will always remember riding my bike home has it poured around me, wind attempting to blow me off it. I think my greatest memory was the windows covered up to protect against the typhoon, the house dark as the power was out and no light could get in, and eating curry rice alone since my host parents were in Nagoya visiting their grandchildren. 

Anyway, the point of that is that Phoenix did not come much as a culture shock for me. Last summer Mack and I would sit out on the apartment patio wherever we were (his place or mine) and watch the lightening light up the sky and the thunder rumble the earth and set off car alarms.

But again, they weren’t hurricanes.

When we first got wind of Tropical Storm Fay we were told it had the potential to become a hurricane. I then started to worry. Hurricanes were only something I had read about on the news (such as Katrina. It amused Mack greatly that I started spazzing out, worried with the “what if’s”. What if we had to evacuate? We still had the cat crate in the spare room and the gliders were in their own cage so that would be easy to round up. What of the fish? What items do we need to grab? I started worrying myself into a fine state and immediately made Mack go to Walmart and get flashlights and batteries just in case. 

Fay ended up only being a Tropical Storm— it never made it to “hurricane” status. Mack and I didn’t even end up loosing power. We sat in bed that day since my work laptop was in Phoenix being fixed and his work had be canceled due to the storm. He played WoW and I watched TV (something rare for me but I’ve been on an A&E kick).

 

All in all, it was pretty easy going.

Let it be known, I was kind of chill about the hurricane aspect when we first moved here. I mean, there had been no warnings of any so whatever, out of sight, out of mind. That is until one of my brothers called and berated me that I was on a different coast now and I needed to pay attention to these things. Plus my mother does not help the situation. I know she’s worried for her children’s safety but asking me about hurricanes and she heard this on the news and is it going to hit you? It tends to start getting you paranoid. 

This week I’ve been watching, with Mack, Hurricane Gustav to see if it heads our direction or, yay, Tropical Storm (as of right now) Hanna. Both had the potential to come our way but looks like both are staying clear of us. For now. Sure, we have some rain today (looking on a weather map it looks like the very, very outskirts of Gustav). Still, my overactive self of self-preservation and worrying set off.

Do you know where this or that is? I’d drill Mack. ‘Yes Anne, stop worry,’ he’d reply in kind. Reading news articles of Gustav and New Orleans residents wanting to, but some not, evacuate made me ask Mack: what would we do if we had to evacuate? We’ve heard horror stories of people breaking into your car as you try to evacuate, gun in hand and willingly taking your life to save their own.

Okay, so, definitely need some sort of weapon.

What of the pets? We know where their food is (a handy container which is easy to transport) and their crates. What of the fish? Well, I guess we’ll drain some water and shove it into the car as we break away from the area? But where will we go? Well, New York is only fourteen hours away. I have two brothers in the upper-eastern part of the United States. I guess we’ll head that way. It gets to the point where I itemize stuff in my head as to what we have to grab and how quickly we could potentially grab them and be out the door. 

Isn’t the expression it’s better to be safe then sorry? Mack teases me for being a worrier but I wonder: when will I get used to the tropical storms, the hurricanes, the threats of this area? Or is there ever really getting used to it?