David KrisoAs our eyes are fixated on our TVs, we are all in shock at the destruction left behind by Hurricane Milton. The footage of boats tossed up on streets, a baseball stadium’s roof torn off, and streets flooded to the point of looking like swamps. The destruction is indescribable. No matter which hurricanes we’ve all witnessed on TV or encountered in real life, the stories told are endless. Hearing friends and family sharing their accounts of hurricanes in the past is gripping. My family and I are avid travelers. We’ve been everywhere. Allow me to share with you my account of hurricanes which my family and I experienced. No matter which hurricanes we had our brushes with, our stories are no less gripping. The accounts I’m about to share with you, I assure you will agree with me that “we’re all in the same boat”.
August 1986 (Hurricane Charley): A few weeks before the start of school, my family and I flew to Norfolk and Virginia Beach. We stayed five nights at the historic Cavalier Hotel. The stay was wonderful. The pool was great, the beach was nice, and we even rode a trolley back and forth on Pacific Avenue. Unfortunately, our checkout day got turned upside down. Hurricane Charley was threatening the coast. Hurricane Charley packed winds up to eighty (80) miles per hour. In the morning, we saw hotel staff rolling up the awnings along the hotel’s beach walk. How I remember the wind howling. I was nine years old. I had no idea what we were up against. Hurricane Charley was bearing down on the Atlantic coast, threatening North Carolina. The hotel lobby was absolutely chaotic. Hotel guests were desperate to checkout as soon as possible. My mom was hoping that we could get an earlier flight out of Norfolk. There was merely no information available. It seemed as if everyone at the hotel was on their own. We left for the airport anyway. The traffic getting to Norfolk Airport was incredible. With the rain coming down, it felt as if the ride to the airport took forever.
The atmosphere at Norfolk Airport wasn’t any calmer than the hotel lobby. Our flight was scheduled to leave on time. Just when we thought boarding could begin, boarding was delayed by an hour. Ultimately, our flight was canceled. The wind and the rain outside the departure lounge window was unbelievable. My dad, my brother, and I went for a walk around the airport’s check-in area hoping for some luck at getting a flight out of Norfolk. There wasn’t a single flight available. There was one Piedmont flight left. The flight was scheduled out of Richmond. My family and I took a taxi cab from Norfolk Airport to Richmond Airport. Along the way, we crossed the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. The swells, the white caps, and the wind were incredible. My brother and I were asleep on mom’s lap. Mom held our heads down, so that we would not have to look at the wave action. When we woke up, we were at Richmond Airport. It was the longest hour’s drive. It seemed as if we were in a race against time. We were able to get out of Virginia before Hurricane Charley hit. We boarded our Piedmont flight around 11 pm, and arrived at LaGuardia shortly before 1 am. The following morning, we could only imagine if we chose not to leave Virginia early. To this day, I feel bad for the taxi cab driver who drove us all that distance through Mother Nature’s wrath.
September 1989 (Hurricane Hugo): In April 1989, my family and I moved in to our new vacation house on St. Croix, U.S.VI. The house was absolutely awesome. The living room was beautiful, our bedrooms were comfortable, and the view of Buck Island was truly amazing. Paradise couldn’t have felt so good. June/July of that year, we spent four weeks on St. Croix. The true pleasure of being in that house was near perfect. Late August, Hurricane Gabrielle was threatening. We flew home, lucky that we were spared. Fortunately, the storm changed course, weakened, and then broke up. We thought we saw the last of the hurricanes. We stood corrected.
Three weeks into September, Hurricane Hugo was making its move across the Atlantic Ocean towards the Caribbean. Like Pac Man, Hurricane Hugo chewed its way through the islands one-by-one. Hurricane Hugo was a Category 5 storm. Hurricane Hugo packed winds up to two hundred and twenty-five (225) miles per hour. The US Virgin Islands were directly in its path. The weekend the storm was threatening St. Croix, my dad, my brother, and I went to see the movie “Parenthood”. Shortly after the movie, we had lost all communication with our friends and neighbors on island. Hurricane Hugo was already doing its worst. The storm had knocked out all power and communication. The eye wall of Hurricane Hugo sat on St. Croix for nine (9) hours. The sadness we encountered with our friends and neighbors over the next few months was inconsolable. Our house got hammered hard. A portion of the roof over each section of our house was torn off. The east end of St. Croix, where our house was located, was hit by a tornado. Each and every house nearby was damaged beyond recognition. The pile of debris in our living room was unreal. My bathing suit was hanging from a tree on the hillside. Furniture was flipped upside down. We had large chunks of shrubbery in our living room. The scene was horrific. It looked like a scene from the movie “Twister”.
In the wake of Hurricane Hugo, my family was tremendously involved with our friends and neighbors’ recovery. My dad volunteered his time to relay messages via HAM radio and phone to their family members on the US mainland. Before each and every one of our ensuing trips, we shopped for whatever items our friends and neighbors needed. Stores on island had been looted. From packing baby’s diapers, to food, to clothing, there was nothing we couldn’t do to help. One family whose house was severely damaged, the husband was a general construction contractor. In return, he rebuilt our house. Over the next few months, it was moving to see the island coming back to life. It was slow, but it was awesome to see the lights all over the island coming back on again. St. Croix was in the dark for nearly four months. It just moves me to tears how people like my family step in to help each other out in times of loss and tragedy.
September 1999 (Hurricane Floyd): It was Spring of 1999. I learned the exciting news that I was accepted into the Walt Disney World College Program. I was going to be a custodial cast member. There was no feeling I could properly describe, know that I was going to be a Walt Disney World cast member. My college classmates were jealous of me. My family relatives were floored. My morale was never at such a high level. I could only imagine what those five months were going to be like. Between college commencement and the morning I flew down, I could only imagine what I would be doing. I had been to Walt Disney World twelve times (12). Trip number thirteen (13) was going to be all the more special. So much was going through my mind. I was thinking about what guests’ memories I would be a part of, and the memories I would be making with my fellow cast members. Less than half way into September, I had completed my exploration tour of my home park, Disney-MGM Studios (now Disney’s Hollywood Studios). Just as work was getting started, Hurricane Floyd was threatening. Hurricane Floyd was packing winds up to one hundred and fifty-five (155) miles per hour. The storm luckily had weakened some, but its winds were still whipping about at approximately ninety (90) miles per hour. Walt Disney World closed down for the very first time in its twenty-eight (28) year history for inclement weather. Watching cast members anchoring everything down had me feeling on edge. No one knew what was about to happen later that evening.
At the college program cast members’ living complex, Vista Way, there was plenty of action! College kids were dancing on the basketball court in the middle of the pouring, driving rain. With the amount of alcohol flowing, I was surprised no one got too wild. I’ll keep the rest of the details in the silence of my heart. The next morning, no one was allowed to go anywhere unless they were working at one of the resorts. Everyone spent much of the following day sleeping, playing board games, or just killing time. Watching the destruction on TV was all we could do all day. I remember on TV watching one whole section of the Daytona Beach pier get washed out by the waves. Hurricane Floyd became part of our Disney experience. Hurricane Floyd became one of the most earie Disney memories to this day. I’m now friends with my fellow Walt Disney World College Program alumni on Facebook. The stories we share back and forth still live on. Who said hurricanes leave behind destruction? They too pave a path of hope and happiness.
With Hurricane Milton on its way across out to sea, we continue to stare at our TVs in disbelief over the events of the past forty-eight (48) hours. Hurricane Milton has left its mark. However, allow me to share with you that my family has had its share of hurricanes. From close calls, to beating one in between airports, to witnessing a mosh pit in the middle of one, hurricanes are part of our traveling history. Hurricanes can ruin our travel plans, they can ruin dream homes, and yet-they can in the most untimely manner, reek havoc on a family destination. However, hurricanes cannot dampen the spirits of college-age students. Neither can hurricanes lower the morale of their victims, nor do they shake the foundation of human resolve. My family and I are fortunate to be a part of hurricane history. The dark memories they force upon us are horrifying. Nevertheless, the stories we share about hurricanes remind us of the fragility of life. Even though hurricanes are known to make our lives fragile, it’s a wonder that the stories we tell about them make us more aware of the divinity of life.
