The Gay Life of a Country Boy

You can still experience a hurricane if you don’t live on the coast

In a couple hours, I can count Hurricane Helene as just one more hurricane I have experienced in my life. Growing up only minutes from the Gulf Coast, I have lived through a couple of hurricanes already. I have to say, I was more lucky than others in the US, but I still have stories to tell about those I did live through.

I would have to say the first hurricane I lived through would be Hurricane Frederic. Frederic made landfall at Dauphin Island as a category four storm on September 12, 1979. By this time, I was only a year old. Strangely, I do remember me and my family going to my grandparents and staying overnight as a family. I don’t know why that memory is in my mind, but I think about it often. I don’t remember any other storms in my childhood where we spent the night. I do remember us going up there for storms but always went back home.

The second hurricane I remember was Hurricane Elena that made landfall near Biloxi, MS on September 2, 1985. It was a category three storm. I definitely remember this one because before it got dark, my grandfather came down to our house and got my sister to go spend the night with them. I guess I wasn’t needed. He only wanted her for many years to go up and sit with them during strong storms. I remember watching WKRG in Mobile that evening. I remember the stop sign by the reporter twisting back and forth in the strong wind. I was about to start second grade in a few days since we started right after Labor Day back then.

The reason I would say that I’m lucky is because I don’t remember there being a hurricane to hit close to home for the next ten years. Hurricanes like Andrew and Hugo would hit Florida within that time frame, but there were no storms to enter the Gulf of Mexico and head north toward south Alabama and the Florida Panhandle.

The next hurricane season that would play a large part in my life would be the season of 1995. That summer, I had a job at a local shirt factory toting material out onto the cutting floor. Hurricane Erin had formed and been in the Gulf for a day or two. It was the first strong hurricane to his the US since Andrew in 1992. It was about 100 miles (160.93 km) out from land when I went to work that Thursday morning, August 3, 1995. The old fart that owned the factory was a real ass and wanted everyone to be at work if they weren’t dead. I arrived at work and lifted the delivery dock door to a cloudy morning and a slight breeze. As the day carried on, the appearance outside became darker and darker. By around 1 pm, we had received word that other places in town had already let their workers go home to get ready for the storm. The old guy wasn’t having it. Finally, about an hour later, he got on the intercom and made the announcement that he was letting everyone go home but they had better arrive the next morning for work after this little storm blew through.

I can only describe my brain through the night as a scared blur. With every lightening flash, I saw a tree bending in a curve I didn’t think it could. Of course, the power had gone out and we were sitting around with a kerosene lantern. My sister and her husband were staying over that night since they lived in a trailer on a hill. It was nice having my sister at the house again overnight but that didn’t take my brain off the ferocious wind and driving rain that was deafening falling on a metal roof.

The next morning, on Friday, the ground all around the house was covered in limbs and leaves. Thankfully, we lived on a hill and did not have to worry about flooding. Other areas of the county weren’t so lucky as they are low lying areas and the county is covered in creeks and streams. The bottom part of the county is basically a swamp between two large rivers at their joining. Think of the Monongahela and the Allegheny meeting at the point of Pittsburgh but wider, deeper, and lower in elevation. Needless to say, my sister and I did not go to work that day and did not feel the least bit sad about it. Come to find out on Monday morning, when we arrived at work, there was a line of people stretching out into the parking lot. The owner of the factory made everyone sign their names on a paper stating they didn’t show up on Friday. The majority of the factory wasn’t there. We had to laugh that he was being such an ass and not one person gave a damn.

Only a couple weeks later, on October 4, Hurricane Opal decided to make landfall near Pensacola as a category three storm. It was the 15th named storm, 9th hurricane, and strongest tropical storm of the 1995 season. That morning, like any other morning, we jumped on the bus and headed to school. It was the 90’s in south Alabama…why not go to school! I remember it like it was yesterday. Homeroom and first period carried along as usual. Second period started with Microcomputer Applications and we were all staring at our computer screens. It was only when I looked up at the windows that lined the north wall of the building and noticed that it looked like nighttime. With the bright fluorescent lights inside, it looked almost pitch black outside. That’s when the intercom system chirped to life and the principal told us all that we were heading back home and that the hurricane was getting closer to landfall. Wow, going back home because a huge storm was about to roll in from the Gulf. Groundbreaking!

Just a tidbit of information. This wasn’t the first time in my school career that stupid decisions were made regarding school attendance. When I was in elementary school, we were bused to school one winter morning. What was weird about this morning? There was snow everywhere. Why would you send three schools worth of children to school in a snow storm. Granted, this was south Alabama and it was only a few inches, but it’s no surprise that the South can’t handle snow. We were only at school for a short while before they bussed us all back home.

Opal was a horrible storm as was Erin. At least this time, I was a bit more mentally ready as I had just experienced a hurricane a few weeks back. Others weren’t so intelligent. I remember crossing Hwy 43 to get to another school pickup. When we crossed the road, the expanse of cars stopped at the light heading north was farther than the eye could see. I had never in my life seen a traffic jam in my hometown. People were heading north from Mobile and areas south of us. Hwy 43 and I-65 are both hurricane evacuation routes from Mobile and Baldwin counties. Common sense should have told people to go to Meridian, Tuscaloosa, or Birmingham. Anywhere west would have been fine. Sadly, quite a few people headed to Montgomery and the hurricane followed them and saw a good bit of damage from the arms of the storm.

After high school, I went to college north of where I grew up. Not far at all, but I went north. While in college, we had Hurricanes Danny and Georges. The latter became the most destructive and costliest Atlantic hurricane since Andrew, but since been beaten by stronger storms. After college, hurricanes such as Ivan, Katrina, and Ian have left lots of damage back home, but not many have made it to the north Georgia area. Mobile Bay, seen in the picture below, was left with barely any water, due to Hurricane Ian sucking the water out.

Low water level in Mobile Bay due to Hurricane Ian

Tonight, as I sit here, I hear the rain beating down on my roof coming from Hurricane Helene. It’s just after midnight and it hasn’t long hit the Big Bend of Florida. From the looks of it on The Weather Channel, we should be getting lots of rain and wind in the next few hours. I’m not planning on going to sleep until I see that it has passed. I’m not one who likes to sleep while my life may be in some kind of danger. I’d rather be awake and aware of my surroundings. We’ll see what this brings and how much cleaning there will be tomorrow.

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