What’s Left
The Story of Tina and Hurricane Michael
I wrote this story, but it's not really mine. It's Tina's and all of her household. It's a story of blessings. It's not an allegory. It's not fiction. Total, 100% fact. When everything is taken from you, you find out what's left. - Kris
TINA
Who knows how long the winds lasted or the rain? Can someone tell me their force and fury? To me, time stood still and whirled and pulled and pushed and caught up until everything that could be shaken, had been shaken. But what was left were the most important things.
October 10, 2018 Hurricane Michael strutted through the Panhandle of Florida like a gangster. He thought he would break us down. He thought he would destroy us. Instead, he left behind hope, community, faith and family ties stronger than before.
How can that be? Well, let me tell you a story.
PANAMA CITY, FLORIDA
Hurricane season is not a new thing in the Gulf of Mexico. It comes and goes each year. Sometimes it clears out large swaths of trees and homes. Over the years people have become wise to its wiles and have learned to build better and be more prepared. Warnings for strong storms are issued long before landfall.
Panama City sits like a hidden jewel in the middle of the Panhandle. Family vacationers have long enjoyed her white sand beaches and Shell Island. Family businesses are strung along the coast like a pearl necklace. It’s gentle southern charm mixes with the sunshine to lull visitors into a quiet rest.
Hurricanes are not normal here, actually. They go up and down the sides of the Gulf, but really don’t make landfall here often. Maybe a Category 2 storm here and there, but nothing you can’t get through with window covers and a tub full of water. There are stories of the storms in the history of the town, but that was over 100 years ago. Nothing to worry about.
Hurricane Michael was set to make a name for himself, but we didn’t know it.
My name is Tina. I am a Wisconsin transplant to Florida working as caregiver to my 92-year old grandmother-in-law, Francis. I also care for my mother-in-law, Pam, a diabetic with COPD who requires oxygen 24/7. The day of the hurricane Grandma’s 89-year-old sister, Aunt Betty, came to hunker down with us. I forgot to mention the love of my life, my husband, Beau. He was there, too. He has some challenges of his own which keep him from functioning at 100%.
As the caregiver of this little band, I looked into evacuating. It’s a project to get the walkers and wheelchairs and oxygen tanks into a car anytime we need to all go somewhere. Impossible with Aunt Betty because that is one more body than my car can carry. She would drive herself, of course, but not more than a block or so.
I called the people I was supposed to call and explained the frailty of my household, they said to stay. I spoke with family asking for options of where I could go, they said to stay. I asked Grandma and Aunt Betty and Pam and they said to stay. No one expected more than a Category 2 storm, if anything would make landfall at all.
The day started normal enough. Some wind, some rain, some warning that the weather would worsen. I filled the tub with water, made sandwiches and put them in the cooler along with other water and food stuffs in case the electricity ran out. Grabbed the extra cash on hand and important papers and got them into one purse. I then made sure I had everyone’s medicine in one place. A friend from Wisconsin watched weather reports and texted me a stream of information. How close was the eye, how strong the winds, when was it going to make landfall, and then silence.
SHELTERED
I have no idea when the intensity increased and I don’t know how long it lasted. People have told me the wind speed and the hours upon hours of battering, but I can’t comprehend it.
At one point I realized we were not safe in the living
room. One-by-one Beau and I moved the
ladies into the hallway, then into the corner of the hallway. As the winds howled and tore around us, we
began to pray. Grandma and Aunt Betty
are preacher’s daughters well versed in the art of communication with God. At first wMeanwhile, Michael was picking up and putting down everything in his path. Including the house around us. The walls, the roof, the possessions around us tore up like matchsticks and strewn about. Finally, there was silence. We looked at each other stunned, grateful. None of us were injured in any way physically. Not a scratch.
I looked around the house that Grandma and her husband had
lived in for most of their adult lives.
It was completely destroyed except for the corner where we stood. Cautiously, I ventured out. I found one cat, but not the other. I made a path to the door outside and shouted
to the neighbors. One at a time, we made
a roll call of who was remaining.
Banding together, we helped each other out of the unsafe homes and into
one that was mostly solid. Electricity was out. Phone lines were down. I made a desperate attempt at a Facebook post hoping my sister in Wisconsin would see it. “Send help.”
My phone rang, “Hello?” Somehow my sister was able to reach me.
“Hello! We’re alive. The house is gone. Send….” And then the phone was dead again.
Off and on through the next several hours she would call and I could answer for a few minutes at a time. She gathered enough details to make a few calls. But I’ll let her tell you that side of the story.
KRIS
I watched and worried and prayed in Wisconsin as I saw the storm moving closer and closer to my sister. Unable to bridge the land gap, I prayed that God would send a hedge of protection around her house. She is my only sister and my best friend. My heart ached as I wished I could do more. Once I saw the storm winds had receded I started to call her every couple of minutes just in case I could connect. I saw her Facebook message to send help and immediately called her.
“Hello?” I was shocked to hear her voice.
“Hello!!”
“Hello! We’re alive. The house is gone. Send….” And silence.
How could I get help to them? I posted to Facebook and Twitter asking if anyone knew anyone who might be closer. My son, Thi, joined the quest. We needed to get the ladies out of the destruction, but how?
Over the next few hours we managed several short conversations with Tina. We knew they were in a safe place with the most essential bases covered. However, without electricity Pam was going to run out of oxygen. Finally, Thi connected with the Coast Guard in Milwaukee and told them of the situation. They contacted the Coast Guard in Panama City. They couldn’t say when they would get there, but they would send someone as soon as possible.
TINA
We had no idea all of that was happening. It took several hours to get everyone safely into one place. The ladies were shocked at all they had lost, but grateful to have each other and be alive. Tucked into the standing portion of one of the only standing homes in the cul-de-sac we tried to sleep.
At one point I stood looking into the night sky. Without any light noise from the city, the sky took on a life of its own. Complete quiet, complete peace, deep night sky lit with a million stars. I thanked God for seeing us through. At last, I, too, lay down to try to sleep.
I was roused awake by the clatter of helicopter blades. I sat up to see a search light scanning our area. ‘They must be assessing damage,’ I thought.
Across the street, Dan ran out, pulled down the American flag from his front porch and began to wave it wildly signaling the helicopter our location. He realized that somehow they had gotten word of our needs. Hovering, they sent down first a medic and second a basket.
“We heard there is a woman here on oxygen in need of help?”
“Yes, over here.” Dan directed.
It was a like a movie being filmed around me. They loaded Pam into the basket and then she and the man were lifted by rope into the helicopter and swooshed into the night.
The next morning we left the house with hardly more than the clothes on our backs. For the next several months we would stay with friends, in a rented condo, an apartment and finally a new home. We were some of the extra blessed minority. Insurance quickly replaced most of what we lost. I went back twice to see what could be saved.
WHAT WAS LEFT
Although Pam’s rescue was a dramatic miracle, as was the standing corner of the room, there were many other less dramatic surprises rife with meaning. The WWII medals won by Grandpa preserved beside his flag. Grandma’s silver and china untouched. Our car left outside of the garage almost completely preserved. Even the missing cat was found almost two weeks later hiding under a bed.
I have had seasons before when I thought I lost everything. I thought I understood the meaning of love and friendship taught by many hard life lessons. Michael brought it all sharply into perspective.
We found new hope in the future. Surely God is writing a story of our lives that is not yet complete. We realized we are surrounded by a community of friends, near and far, who love us deeply. Their generous gifts of food, money, clothes, prayers and kindness overwhelm us. Our faith in God is stronger than ever. Having been tested in the fire, we find God is still surrounding us. Our family ties are stronger and more committed than ever to taking care of each other.
My friend Jackie called me tearfully several weeks after. “Why would God do this to you, Tina? You’re such a good person. Why would He take so much from you?”
“It’s clear to me, Jackie. He knew that I would tell of His goodness in the middle of the storm. I would give Him glory for taking care of us. I would thank Him for his protection. I could bemoan what was taken, but instead I will rejoice in what is left.”
Hurricane Michael tried to destroy us, but instead left us with many great gifts.
