And three weeks without electricity.
And three weeks without electricity.
I was living in Stuart, FL when Frances and Jean hit 17 days apart. 42 days without electric. The debris from blown down trees had just been cleared when the second storm hit. I’ve been through six hurricanes, but when Jean came through that was the first time I understood what the old timers call “the train”...sounded just like a locomotive all night long. Went out the next morning, and there was a single grapefruit left on the tree. Ate it.
I slept on the back porch for a month and a half because it was the coolest place in the house. Charged the cell phone off the car cigarette lighter. At night the blue crabs would come up out of the Indian River and have a steel cage death match on the dock. I’d wake up with the sunrise and there would be all these torn off crab claws scattered all over the place. Or, as I called it...dinner.
Worst part of it? Fox News sent Geraldo. An entire stable of attractive female reporters...and we got Geraldo? I lost all respect for Fox News right then and there.