‘Storm of century’ won’t shift me from my home

It’s 11pm and we’re pouring ourselves some bourbon, both to take the edge off the stressful day we’ve just had — and to steel our nerves for what is to come. We’re hearing news reports about Hurricane Milton; warnings that it will be the “storm of the century” that will smash into Tampa — where we are right now — within hours. Our city mayor has put out dire warnings that people who are refusing to leave the zones that have been told to evacuate “could die in their homes”. She’s even said that houses could become “coffins”. But I can’t help but try and be optimistic, rather than the opposite — which doesn’t bear thinking about. Our local news hasn’t sensationalised the dangers, either — it may be that they’re trying to not freak everyone out here because you need to stay as calm as possible to prepare.

But there is an electricity in the air. Winds have started to pick up and now we are settling inside. The news is on 24/7 and we keep getting regular emergency messages coming through — the screen goes bright blue and lets you know whether your zone has to be evacuated or not. Our house is about two miles north of downtown Tampa and our neighborhood is directly on the Hillsborough River. We haven’t been told to evacuate, so we’re staying put. I also need to stay calm because the house is crowded: as well as myself, my husband, our two-year-old son and our dog; we have our two friends, their teenager, their two cats and a bearded dragon staying with us. After their home was destroyed during Hurricane Helene just a few days ago, they had no choice but to leave.

Everyone feels anxious when storms are coming, especially since they’re so unpredictable. You do your best to stay calm and try to find silver linings or make jokes about it. We had a little hurricane party last night — those are common. When you feel helpless — and, let’s face it, we’re completely helpless in the face of a storm like this — it can be an opportunity to hang out and help each other get through it together. The last time Tampa had a direct hurricane hit was 1921. It’s crazy — no one here really knows what will happen. We joke that Indian burial grounds protect us around here, because there have been a lot that have been heading this way and veered off at the last moment. We’re hoping it holds true again, but don’t wish it on anyone else either. I think Helene was a great wake-up call — it was 100 miles offshore and broke all of the local storm surge records, so most people are thankfully taking this one seriously.

But I’m already running out of ways to entertain Cameron, my two-year-old. Kids don’t understand — they can’t — so we have to make it seem like a game. For the most part, we are working on keeping the atmosphere as calm and positive as we can. We took him and our 90lb Catahoula American bulldog, Cooper, out for a walk around the block yesterday afternoon, knowing that soon we’d be unable to go outside. Cooper is a gentle giant and a huge chicken — he’s deathly afraid of loud noises, including thunder. I got him plenty of dog CBD treats to get him through, but he definitely has that sixth sense and knows something is going on. The main concern is our son right now. The potential danger is scary, but it’s also a challenge keeping a toddler entertained inside for such long stretches of time. There’s only so much Bluey parents can take. I heard a meteorologist describe waiting for a hurricane to hit like being stalked by a turtle, and this analogy really resonated with me. They take so long to form, striking when and where you least expect it. All you can do is brace yourself, prepare and hope for the best — and, boy, have we prepared...

My husband spent most of yesterday boarding up the windows of the house with special hurricane shutters. We have a two-storey house and it is a new-build, meaning it was designed to be much more resilient than some older buildings. But we’re worried about the top floor, which will be much more exposed when the winds pick up. We also took the opportunity to pop to the grocery store yesterday to stock up. Our local Target was surprisingly busy — barely anything was left on the shelves. Although some food was left, things like toilet roll, alcohol and bottled water were completely gone. We tried to get as many essentials as possible — and some of our toddler’s favourite snacks to keep him happy. A lot of Americans in hurricane-prone areas offer help and support — because you never know when you’ll need them to return the favour. There’s a real sense of community — even during the worst times — and that’s really reassuring; to know we’re all in it together. I grew up in Boston and my husband is from LA, so hurricane prep is relatively new to us. We moved to Tampa in 2007 and 2014, respectively — the space and sunshine became especially important as we grew our family — before settling into our current house in Hillsborough River in 2016.

But even then, we knew a big part of living in Florida was accepting that it is often in the path of serious storms. So far, we have experienced at least one tropical storm and one hurricane every year since we’ve been here — and according to experts, that’s set to increase. There’s still a lot of debris on the streets from Helene, which is going to cause issues as this new storm approaches. Milton is said to be so strong that it could be a category 6 — a brand-new category that does not yet exist. And so with the high winds and flood waters, the debris could prove to be very destructive — perhaps even lethal. For our part, we feel safe enough at home for now. And to be honest, evacuations can sometimes be more dangerous and stressful than staying put. There’s often gridlock traffic and gas stations run out of fuel — so it can be a real pain, unless you absolutely have to do it. Of course, we try to adhere to the local government’s advice and help clear the streets when it is safe to do so, to help reduce the potential damage. And if push came to shove, we would definitely evacuate to stay safe. We are also aware that in the wake of a hurricane the likelihood of looting increases. Our friends said they had “pickers” go through some of the debris on their curb after Helene. They don’t necessarily mind when people are being courteous and taking only what’s needed, but it can definitely be.

Meanwhile, Hurricane Milton barreled into the Atlantic Ocean on Thursday after plowing across Florida, pounding cities with ferocious winds and rain, and whipping up a barrage of tornadoes. It caused at least four deaths and compounded the misery wrought by Helene while sparing Tampa a direct hit. The storm tracked to the south in the final hours and made landfall as a Category 3 storm Wednesday night in Siesta Key, about 70 miles (112 kilometers) south of Tampa. The situation in the Tampa area was still a major emergency as St. Petersburg recorded over 16 inches (41 centimeters) of rain, prompting the National Weather Service to warn of flash flooding there as well as other parts of western and central Florida.

As dawn broke on Thursday, officials repeated that the danger had not passed: Storm surge remained a concern in many parts of Florida and tropical storm warnings were in place for much of the east-central coast. Officials in the hard-hit counties of Hillsborough, Pinellas, Sarasota and Lee urged people to stay home, warning of downed power lines, trees in roads, blocked bridges and flooding.

Agencies