Dora ( 1964 ) had the ocean advancing to our beach house; that's when we piled in the VW and headed for a house on the Island's only hill. Fortunately, it stopped before reaching the house- still, I have never seen anything more fearsome than that endless angry grey water coming relentlessly forward.
The situation I have is that my wife probably would not leave anyway, but when you add her Mom ( elderly, disabled, and she is not going anywhere, by gum! ) and her animals ( and we don't have children to look out for ) she simply won't budge, and of course I won't abandon her to a storm.
Now whether the house is up to it is anyone's guess- the Great Hurricane was in 1898, and the house was new, and had shutters ( long gone to rot ) on every window. It's held together with 16-penny, wedge-shaped iron nails, and those that are sound, you have trouble pulling with a four-foot crowbar. But some- you can pluck with your fingers...
At least it's high- most buildings here are single-story, this old pile is four feet off the ground, with two twelve-foot floors above that, and an attic equally tall. If it just holds together...
That sounds like the old family house back in Pennsylvania. It was built in the early 1800s. The frame is of red oak, lath and plaster with cut nails. Even hanging a picture was a bear, and forget about hanging shelves.