Irma's aftermath

We were back up around eight o'clock, bleary eyed and tense. Outside our neighborhood was full of debris. Yards with trees had sticks, limbs, and leaves galore covering the grass. Several limbs had smashed into and tilted our neighbor's mailbox. One huge palm tree had pulled out of the ground and fallen across another neighbor's driveway. We lost shingles from our roof. Everyone had leaves in their eaves, on their roofs, and up against various parts of their houses depending on which way the wind had blown. Our front of the house had gotten hit. My mother's oldest pineapple plant was uprooted and toppled over. All in all, it could have been worse.

One by one the neighbors came out of their homes. We met in the street and began the chatter. Did you hear the wind? Wasn't it awful? Neighbors I haven't seen in months joined us and we hugged. One neighbor offered coffee via her generator. We took our cups and followed her back to her house where she had a fan going and she made everyone coffee. We sat and talked as more neighbors appeared, coffee cups in hands. Other neighbors began taking off their boards. Tom started lifting limbs and building a pile of debris at the edge of our yard. Some neighbors brought out their chain saws and starting working on the downed palm tree.

Somewhere in lifting the heavier limbs from the tilted neighbor's mailbox Tom wrenched his back. He brought his mother down to get coffee and his face was pained, his hand on his back, his mouth winced. I'm not use to the man down and out. He is the epitome of health. He's the energizer bunny, my father, and superman rolled into one. He could barely move. We got him coffee and then took him home. He lay on the floor and I got him ice and Advil. He hates taking medicine and three Advil put him into a tizzy. I reminded him that I had a slipped disc and knew what back pain was all about. I insisted on the ibuprofen. I found out later he took one.

Outside the wind was still blowing and the air was cooler than our house with no power. I channeled my inner Russ, took the electric drill, and went to work removing the boards that covered our house. Tom had gotten one off prior to his injury, and I removed the rest in the front of the house, opening up the windows as I went. I made a pile of the screws, the wood panels, and the the plywood. Eventually, I had to go inside for guidance.

Me: "I need the other drill bit. The last boards have a regular head."
Tom: "It's on the tool bench in the garage. It's tiny. Don't lose it."

I nodded and got the bit. It was tiny, and I commented aloud to myself the stupidity of the size. I had already dropped the Phillips bit twice, luckily locating it in the debris. Now I had this one to protect. All of that registered, but I was on a high with my success as Super Gal, taking over for the injured male. I was the only female out and about removing boards and carrying a power tool. I was thinking about how I needed a belt. I was thinking how my building of SueG's TV stand was the precursor to my saving the day after Irma.

Tom: "Don't lose the bit."
Me: "I won't."
Tom: "I'm serious. If you lose the bit, we won't be able to get off the other boards."
Me: "Yeah, yeah. Don't lose the bit, I got it."

I lost the bit at the second window. What kind of shoddy equipment is this thing? Who makes a tool where the bit falls out? I searched and searched for it, but I had walked from the window around the side of the house to the front before noticing it. Debris was everywhere. I wasn't going to find the damn thing. I went inside to break the news to the husband, slightly deflated from my high.

He didn't take the news well. He ranted and raved and reminded me that he had told me. He said there was no way I could get the boards off now. He went on and on and I realized I didn't have time for this nonsense. Accidents happen. Albeit more often than not when I'm around, but what the hell? I was busy. I didn't have time for a lecture. I realized he couldn't follow me, and so I left him there on the floor in the Steelers room and went back to work determined to show him just exactly what Super Gal was capable of accomplishing.

I appealed to two of my male neighbors. I mentioned their strength and manly drill bits and within ten minutes they had the remaining boards off of the windows and I had assurance that another drill bit could be purchased for my drill. I thanked them profusely and went inside to open the windows, maybe smiling smugly as I did so. The husband was now sitting up on the floor getting advice on back pain from his mother in the other room. I left them to it and went back outside to conquer the mess in the yard. Super Gal was on a roll.

I raked up several piles of debris and bagged two bags before having to give up due to heat and lack of subsistence. I went inside and ate. The husband was now standing and trying hard not to groan. He looked miserable. I felt bad for him. Back pain sucks. He told me I had to help him gas the generator and we went outside to do so. He gave me step by step instructions. Super Gal tried hard not to jump ahead. The gas can was damn heavy, and my own miserable back pain protested at my lifting it to fill the generator. He insisted he could do it. I ignored him and got the teenagers next door to do the work. I entertained them with my wit and humor and the generator got filled.

Little by little I raked more debris and filled more bags. Neighbors wandered around and we chatted some more. The cool air helped outside as well as inside, but I eventually got too dizzy and had to stop a little bit around two o'clock. My MIL fed me. The husband was passed out in the bed. I showered and changed and lay down myself, waking up a couple of hours later to find my friend Jim in our house. He and Tom had ventured out on the roads and taken pictures of the downed power lines, the fallen trees, the missing street lights. My MIL and I fixed an assortment of crackers and cheese, spinach dip and veggies, and beers. We lamented on our good fortune. Darkness came.

The stillness of the night was something. I'm a person who enjoys the darkness. I rarely turn on lights during the night, but wandering through my house without my lantern I realized how much light is really on...in a background sort of way. Gone were the colored lights that adorn Elliot's cage. Gone were the nightlights I have in the bathrooms. Gone were the lights from our computers. Complete darkness is eerie.

There isn't much to do without power. I took another shower. We retired to our separate rooms. I tried to sleep in our master room, but Tom was flat out on his back and his snoring is god awful in that position. I usually roll him, but knew with his back that wasn't going to happen so I went back to the middle room and tried to sleep. It was too hot.

Then I heard voices. Flashes of light. Elliot began barking out the opened window in master room. I crept around my darkened house, moving from window to window as the flashes of light moved down the street. Super Gal was not going to let her generator be stolen. I vaguely wondered what I would do if that were to happen, but it turned out to be some neighbors on a nightly stroll. Not a good thing in a neighborhood of darkness and antsy people. We had no cell reception and very little texting ability. Getting help would not be easy.

I slept very little. Morning came too soon. Tom had said we would have to refuel the generator at five and when I awoke at eight I panicked. I jumped up and Tom was sound asleep. I got dressed and then noticed that the front door was wide open. Apparently, he had been up already. I took out the dog. I hooked up the coffee pot to the outlet on the generator and made coffee. Two hours later the others joined me.

Tom had devised a system for filling the generator. He overturned a pot to sit on. He tilted the gas can and filled an empty juice container and used it to fill the generator. I patted him on the back and left him to it. I went back to raking. I made a million piles. I bagged. Holding the bag and filling the bag was difficult. I started out holding the bag with one foot and one hand until I got some debris inside it. Then I would roll it so it would stay some what opened so that I could use both hands to fill it. It was slow going. My MIL joined me and held the bag. The bugs were bad in the piles. I had to stop often and rest inside the miserable hot house. I had a small hand held fan that I used, moping my face with a towel. I tried to drink a lot of water.

My SIL who lives near my MIL got through to tell us there was power in their area. They had gone to my MIL's house and it was secure and had power. We made plans to drive up there to survey the scene. I went back outside to finish the yard. SueG and her two children arrived. They had found an open station with gas. They helped me finish the yard. I hauled my MIL's belongings into the van and we headed out. We waited in line at the gas station for our turn to fill the gas can and top off the van.

It was slow going. Stop lights were out. Some intersections had police directing. Most did not. People obeyed the laws and treated those areas as four way stops. I thought everyone played very nicely. As we neared my MIL's there were opened stores. Her grocery was open and packed. We found a McDonald's that had nuggets, quarter pounders, fries and drinks. We took the burgers and fries and ate at my MIL's house. She cranked down her air. I unloaded her belongings and took the dog for a walk. It was decided I would return later to spend the night. We left her there and made the return trip home, stopping off at my Indiana cousin's mother's mobile home park to assess the damage there. I got out and took pictures while Gimpy stayed in the car.

At the house I asked the two teenagers next door to lift out the full gas can. They helped Tom fill the generator again. It was 86 degrees in our house. The dog refused to go inside. It took me forever to pack my bag because I had to stop and sit and mop my face. Gimpy Tom refused to leave. He had to work the next day and wanted to keep the generator going. He wanted me to save his dog. I told him the dog wouldn't go with me, but the dog never hesitated. After I loaded the car with laundry and my belongings, he jumped right into the car and never looked back. We left Gimpy on his own and made the trip back to Grandma's and to the power and the air conditioning.