I survived Hurricane Hell-ene

Disclaimer: I don’t want to be insensitive to our neighbors in South Georgia and East Georgia. I’ve seen tons of news articles and videos showing extensive damage, and at time of writing, the death toll from Hurricane Helene was 25 Georgians. My heart and prayers sincerely go to those affected, and I hope they can rebuild stronger than before. 

Helene tore through the state Thursday night and Friday morning. This was my first ever hurricane, and I’ve got to say it was an experience, to say the least.

Thursday, I decided to brave the rain in the morning. I have a four-wheel drive, so I wasn’t too scared of driving, but I will admit, the downpour Thursday morning did scare me a little. Where I lived in Colorado, we hardly ever got rain. While I have since acclimated myself to the downpours we get down here, I wasn’t expecting it to be that heavy Thursday.

Then I learned that storm wasn’t even part of Helene. She was still over the ocean. I was terrified, especially after hearing that Waffle House was closing down. Here, I was expecting much worse.

After work Thursday, I had my emergency preparedness plan down pat. My husband, nephew and I would hunker down and wait out the storm. We live in a brick building, so we weren’t nervous about our place taking any damage. 

We had five cans of canned vegetables, some Spam, and a few cans of tuna ready to eat. Surely, that is more than enough for three people should our refrigerator bite the dust in a power outage. (Totally sarcasm.)

We would fill up the bathtub in case we needed water to flush toilets with, but sadly, we couldn’t find our drain stopper. Going to Walmart to buy one was futile, as they closed early.

It was then I realized nearly all of the cushy things at the house I take for granted use electricity: (my Xbox, the air fryer, air conditioning, my record player, and light.) Could I survive without power for a week? Probably, but I would be very irritated by the end of it.

So maybe we weren’t as prepared as ready.gov suggested. But by the time Thursday came around, we couldn’t go to the store to panic buy more toilet paper. We were going to have to rough it with what we have.

Apparently, my selection of gourmet ready-to-eat meals wasn’t enough for my husband, though. As I drove home from work, I got a phone call: “Can you pick up something for dinner?”

“I’m sure we have power,” I said, “There’s nothing at home?”

“Not really,” he said. (Code for: there’s nothing that can be microwaved and made quickly.)

“Okay,” I said. “There’s a Burger King nearby, I’ll get you something.”

I’ll admit, I got me something too. They have wraps now, and they’re not half bad.

Burger King in my tummy, we were ready to brave the storm. I suggested watching “Twister;” my husband and nephew chose the back of their eyelids and went to bed early. 

“I’ll watch the storm myself,” I thought. This was about the time Helene was making landfall in Florida.

The entire time, I was glued to my phone, looking for updates from Houston County EMA and the city of Warner Robins. By 1 a.m., it was raining pretty heavy, and I was loving it. I was expecting winds to tear through, but HEMA told me when I spoke to them that gusts were only about 30 miles per hour.

Honestly, the weather was kind of beautiful to me. If I had a front porch, I would have been in a rocking chair with a cup of hot chocolate, saying, “We needed this.” I walked briefly out the front door to watch the rain, and while it was cold with the wind, it was surprisingly peaceful, more than I expected.

My family back in Colorado was way more worried than I was. My mom and dad called me frequently to check on me, and they were fearmongering a bit, understandably worried, though.

“They say it’s going to be worse than Hurricane Katrina,” my dad told me. 

Okay, Dad. Katrina was a cat-5. Helene was a cat-4. Also, I couldn’t figure out who he meant by “they.” 

I promised to stay safe and let them know if anything went south. Around 4:30 a.m., I heard the news that Helene had shifted east. I texted my parents immediately to let them know: “Hurricane missed us. She went off to the east, so all we got was rain. Praise God!”

My mom replied within the hour: “Praise God!! (hand clap emoji)”

The relief from my parents was evident, even through text. They had been half a country away, watching the news unfold and worrying about my safety. It was a reminder of how distant yet close we can be to our loved ones in times of crisis.

After the storm, it was night and day. Our neighborhood wasn’t affected, just a small branch on one of the trees. We didn’t even lose power.

My husband, nephew and I were thankful for the outcome. We also made a note to stock up on more than canned vegetables and Spam for the next storm. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll finally buy that bathtub drain stopper.