Barbie Perkins-Cooper, Author

Tag: Hurricanes

  • Goodbye Hurricane Florence


    Dearest Readers:

    Normally, when we have hurricane warnings/watches and the winds roar, I get horrified and do not sleep. Not with Hurricane Florence. I’ve slept really great every night, including last night. I awoke after 9:00am this morning. Really strange. Today looks like a normal day in Charleston, SC. We have gray clouds while the sun is fighting to return. No roaring winds sounding like a wild tiger or a freight train. Only a slight whisper of wind. My Lantana moves only slightly. So, I suppose normalcy has returned.

    Last night when I awoke in the middle of the night, I turned the TV to Direct TV channel 362, THE WEATHER CHANNEL, just to see what was happening. I must’ve fallen back to sleep before realizing what was on. I do that a lot when I have insomnia. The funny thing about Florence was I slept. I wasn’t afraid. Maybe it’s because I’ve been through at least five hurricanes, staying for all of them:

    Hurricane Hugo, September, 1989 – stayed with 62 students at a historical building downtown

    Hurricane Floyd, September, 1999 – we attempted to leave due to a ‘mandatory evacuation’. I packed up only one item. My father’s rocking chair, given to him by Sandpiper Convalescent Center when we was crowned “Mr. Sandpiper!” He passed away on July 6, 1999. The grief was so traumatic for me, I wanted something sentimental to take with me. My husband shook his head, tied the chair to the back of his SUV so it would not roll around and off we went. We stayed in a traffic jam for 10 hours, moving only 57 miles! Traffic was such a nightmare we decided to find a hotel. If you’ve read my stories regarding Hurricane Florence, you might remember the hotel for Hurricane Floyd was more of a place where entertainment of a certain type might happen. We were desperate. Exhausted. The next morning, we came home, deciding from now on, we will remain home whenever a ‘mandatory evacuation’ is ordered. Just what will they do to us if we don’t leave? NOTHING! Floyd had turned over night. Charleston was safe. We drove home in less than 45 minutes!

    Hurricane Matthew, October, 2016 – we stayed. I failed to sleep. Matthew kissed the coast as a category one storm, causing flooding. 

    Hurricane Irma, 2017 – we stayed.

    Hurricane Florence, September, 2018 – so thankful we stayed. We considered leaving. After realizing that many of the hurricanes coming to Charleston, turn inland we chose to stay. Hugo turned in to Charlotte. Floyd – ? Sorry, I don’t remember and I’m much too tired to research now.

    Will we stay for the next hurricane? Probably. For now, I simply want to thank God for keeping us safe. Lumberton, North Carolina is flooded again. I have friends living in Wilmington. Reportedly, they cannot get out to leave, calling for rescue. My prayers are with them.

    As for Charleston, South Carolina? We were blessed. Walking outside, I discovered I do not have any yard debris to clean. It’s just another day in our neck of the woods.

    Schools are opening. Phil is working today, and I imagine the traffic jams have returned. Just another day. Goodbye Florence. Soon Hurricane Florence will be history. My heart breaks for those who will have to file with FEMA. After the Hundred Year storm of October, 2015, we had damage, only to discover our wind and hail damage was not covered by State Farm insurance arthur-ravenel-jr-bridgeadjusters.?? We had wind and hail insurance. Not covered??? I was told the ‘regulations recently changed.’ My response: “rest assured, my insurance company will change!” Reluctantly, I filed with FEMA only to be told our home was still in ‘livable condition,’ so they could not assist us. I filed three times. Finally, I researched SBA Disaster Relief.

    My advice to those who will be forced to fight with insurance companies is this: You must be diplomatic. Contact the insurance company requesting letters from them, then you can file with FEMA. It isn’t an easy process, just document all phone calls to them. Names. Response…Time…Everything! I really doubt if many of those affected during Florence will have flood insurance. If not, they should buy flood insurance for the next hurricane since history reveals hurricanes hitting the southeast coast turn inland and there is where the major damage occurs.

    Meanwhile, I pray we will not have more loss of lives. I haven’t listened to the news broadcast this morning. I suppose I could say, I am burned out! Hopeful, today is a new day!

  • Hurricane Florence – Finally It Rains


    Dearest Readers:

    I suppose I should report, it looks like Hurricane Florence finally visited Charleston. We’re getting rain now. Looks like it has been a nice soaker – just like a normal rainy day. The winds are dancing on the tree branches just like a normal day when we have rain.

    I haven’t been outside yet, but I will in a moment. Neither have I listened to the latest news broadcast about Hurricane Florence. I did get a news alert about a ‘possible shooting in North Charleston’ so I suppose things are returning to normal now. I was hoping the violence would leave the Charleston low country permanently.

    Florence is being kind to Charleston, SC. All is fine. All this hoopla, mandatory evacuation and panic from others who’ve never been in a hurricane, for me, I found it slightly humorous! I’ve been in at least five hurricanes. Hurricane Hugo. Hurricane Danny – I think he brushed the low country. Hurricane Floyd. An unnamed tropical storm that teased Charleston, and now, Hurricane Florence.  We were blessed. Never did the lights flicker. As I glance outside, my lawn looks normal. Nice and wet, but normal.

    We haven’t had mail delivery in two days. I haven’t a clue when it will be delivered, but I’m hopeful my order from Chewy.com will arrive before my Bratty Boys run out of food. All the WalMarts are closed! Isn’t it funny? No. It isn’t. We live in a hurricane prone area, so we must be prepared!

    Last night when I turned the Weather Channel off so I could attempt sleep, I heard five people were killed during Hurricane Florence. A mother and an infant killed when a tree crashed into their home. The father was rescued and rushed to the hospital. Someone died from hooking up a generator, and a woman had a heart attack and died. I haven’t heard anything about the fifth loss of life and I pray there are not additional victims. For the families affected, I am so sorry for your loss, especially for the loss of a mother and infant. Suppose we’ll hear more about those stories later.

    Looks like all the residents of South Carolina can inhale…exhale…and breathe now! I suppose this is Day Six of Florence. I think she likes Charleston. To all who were in the eyes of Florence, I do hope you are safe now and realize life is slowly returning to ‘normal.’

    This is the first hurricane I’ve actually slept well in. Normally, I get so tense and horrified I do not sleep. Not this time. I’ve prayed and prayed, placing everything in the hands of God. Thank you, God. All is fine!arthur-ravenel-jr-bridge

     

  • Memories of Hurricane Hugo, Hurricane Floyd, and Soon — Hurricane Matthew


    IMG_0572

     

    Dearest Readers:

    I remember September 21, 1989 and Hurricane Hugo, a category four hurricane when it SLAMMED into the Charleston Harbor. My husband was activated with the SC National Guard. I chose to volunteer at the culinary college where I worked. caring for  60 students in a historical building that once was a tobacco factory. Thru the cracked, olden bricks, I could see lightning flashing. This building had survived earthquakes and hurricanes previously. I was confident we would be fine. I could hear the sounds of the storm, roaring with life like a freight train, or the horrifying roar of an angry tiger. I remember singing and humming to myself, and praying like I could never pray again. I kept myself quiet to the students, but inside my soul, I was horrified. I saw the water rising from the harbor, up to the second floor where we housed the students. No one wanted to move them. I remember saying, I’ll go. The students do not need to see, or hear, the rising waters. I gathered the 60 students, forming a single line up the stairs we rushed to a vacant warehouse. I remember hugging every student as they settled down. I sang “We Shall Over Come,” to a few of them as we lit candles so we could see to walk around.

    Later, most of the students were fast asleep. with exception of one young girl. I found her cuddled like a baby inside a sleeping bag. She held a teddy bear. I stopped to speak to her, and to give her a motherly hug. “We’re going to be fine,” I said. “It’s just a storm. Tomorrow morning we’ll awaken to a brand new day. You go to sleep now. Hug your teddy tightly. We will be fine.”
    Moments later, she was asleep. One hour later, as the storm intensified, I was the only one awake. I do not remember how long Hugo destroyed this city, but when the breaking of dawn arrived, I saw a slight light. I slipped out of the area for a moment, to find a window. There, in the early morning I saw a light. Sunshine. I remember saying a prayer while looking at East Bay Street in Charleston. Debris was everywhere, but we had a moment of hope as the skyline broke into morning, a beautiful sunshiny morning with gorgeous blue skies.
    I, along with 60 frightened students, survived Hugo. Today, as I look outside, I see a bit of sunshine and a lot of overcast clouds. Wind gusts occasionally. I’ve checked with a few neighbors, and much to my surprise, they decided to ride this storm out too.
    Many of us lived in Charleston in 1999 during Hurricane Floyd. During that hurricane, we were told to evacuate. “This is a mandatory evacuation,” the Governor said. Phil and I decided to leave. 1999 was a horrible year for me. I lost my father from esophageal cancer in July. I was grieving and lost. When Phil suggested we pack up to leave, I remember saying to him, “I must pack Dad’s rocking chair.”
    Confused, Phil shook his head. “Don’t ask,” I said. “I must have a piece of my father with me.”
    I remember loading up our dogs, suitcases, and doggie crates. We had just enough room to pack the rocking chair. Since we were leaving at the time it appeared everyone was leaving Mt. Pleasant, Phil suggested taking Highway 41. We left at noon, driving down Highway 17, headed in all of the congestion to Highway 41. Phil was convinced we’d be safer and move quicker IF we took the back roads.
    Driving in separate cars, the dogs with me, we drove down Highway 41, thankful we had walkie-talkies to converse since cell phones were jammed. Moving at a snail’s pace, we remained in the traffic on Highway 41 for nine hours. During the afternoon, the winds gusted. I clicked the walkie-talkie. “Do you think we’ll make it out of here before the storm hits?”
    Phil keyed his walkie-talkie. “When we see a hotel, we’re stopping.”
    “Good,” I said. “I’m hungry and exhausted…and I’ve got to pee so badly I ache.”
    Highway 41 was a parking lot. We moved ever so slowly, inches. Highway 41 did not have the development of other roads, and the only place to relieve mother nature would be the woods.
    I glanced at the speedometer, adding the numbers in my head. At nine o’clock we traveled only 57 miles. We saw an old hotel. We stopped, got a room and rushed inside with our dogs. The hotel room smelled. The air conditioner did not work, and the bedspread felt damp. I opened the trunk of my car, removing a blanket. “I’m not sleeping on this wet, smelly bedspread,” I said, fluffing the blanket over the bed.
    Although I dozed on that night, I was exhausted the next morning. Phil went outside to check the weather. No wind was blowing and the skies were clear.
    “We’re packing up,” he said. “We’re going home.”
    I glanced upwards to the skies. “Thank you, God.”
    Hurricane Floyd moved off shore on that evening, weakening.  Our nine-hour excursion to get out of Charleston, SC  was a disaster; however, the drive home took us 45 minutes!
    Remembering how stressful it was to get out-of-the-way of a hurricane convinced me that when another hurricane threatens Charleston, we will remain safe at home.
    I feel confident we will be fine with Hurricane Matthew. Although we are at OPCON 1 now, I am praying Matthew must be tired now. Maybe he’ll give in and turn back into the oceans and disappear. Meanwhile, I am writing. Isn’t it funny how stress appears to help me find the stories I need to share?
    dsc_0010