The Hurricane Spell
I am a Louisianian, born and raised here and will probably never leave. I love it here. You live where people give you the head nod at the stop sign, you can buy alcohol at a drive through and everybody is family. We take the good with the bad and trust me, we have a ton of bad. We even take the hurricanes. People ask why do you stay and wait for something so devastating and the answer is this is my home.
The Loudest Quiet
There is a certain eeriness and surreal feel in the air when a hurricane is on its’ way. There is the loudest quiet. The rushing around to get groceries, hurrying to wash clothes, clean the house and get everything tied down outside before the storm hits. The phone calls to see who’s staying and who’s leaving, wondering will it be ok. Wondering if I leave will I have something to come back to. Wondering if I stay then what will I face.
Leaving the Storm
Driving out of town you look ahead of you and the vehicles going towards the storm are utility bucket trucks, ambulances and police cars from states like Ohio and Indiana. 18 wheelers carrying huge generators and an endless line of National Guard vehicles fill the interstate. The quiet gets louder. Lines and lines of bucket trucks with brave lineman coming to save the day. Fuel trucks coming to fill empty gas stations and grocery store trucks coming to fill empty shelves.
Staying for the Storm
If you decide to stay for the hurricane, there comes a time when all the preparation is done. Lastly, the house is clean, food cooked, water bought, bathtubs filled with water to flush toilets in the event the water stops working. You soak up all the air conditioning, electricity and charged devices you can. Long hot showers are a necessity because who knows when that will happen again. Happily watching tv and movies and knowing that within 24 hours the humming heartbeat of your home will grow silent. The quiet gets even louder. The storm gets ever closer.
Hours of watching the news, checking weather apps and falling into an anxious sleep. It gets a little closer and grows stronger and meaner. Then it’s here. It’s time to meet and you pray that this August 29th won’t be like those August 29th days from before.
We pray for her to release her spell and for the loud quiet to go away. Anxiously waiting the humming heartbeat to switch back on and cool our sweaty brows and tired hearts. There is a collective prayer for Louisiana, our home, our place we love. We don’t break but bend with the strong hurricane winds. We recover and rebuild and we reclaim what home is.
