Thirty-six hours before the storm, I perch myself on the shore just off of Eel Point. The birds are huddling close together on the beach. It is far too windy to soar today. Waves are crashing a little harder. My bright yellow beach towel is held down by only a fist sized rock and the September Issue of Vogue (the magazine outweighing the rock tremendously). As I look left, a gust of wind picks up and sand slaps me in the face.
In town, everything looks typical. People are walking around, shopping. Children in strollers being pushed by mothers and nannies down main street. We're still busy at work later that night. Not too many have left the Island, hoping for the best.
After breakfast, I notice workers boarding up local businesses, some with spray painted slogans like "Let it Blow, Let it Blow, Let it Blow", or "Bring it on Earl." Main street looks like a construction zone, but people are still out doing damage to their credit cards and checking accounts.
I go out for a 5p.m. sushi dinner with a few of the girls, get home to finish my last minute chores before I expect the power to go out. Earl comes packing punches and will bear the brunt of the storm as they say on the weather channel over and over…and over again. I sit alone in my house digesting my dinner before I head out for a Hurricane cocktail. I lend an ear to the howling wind and the raindrops tickling my window. As the light tapping turns into a loud knocking, and I eventually have to shut my window and deny the refreshing breeze.
If nothing else, this storm,
even though much less strong than previously thought,
is a reminder to many of us of that fateful storm on August 29th, 2005.
Hurricane Katrina changed my life as well as countless others.
This is to remembering those in New Orleans.
