By Caroline Jenkins, Opinions Editor
It was fifth grade and I was 10 as I sat on my living room couch, eagerly awaiting the time when I could go to sleep. Tomorrow was the first day of school and, in some twisted way, almost like Christmas morning.
Then, I heard my mom get the automated robotic voice phone call and instantly knew it was the school calling to cancel. My anticipation and excitement for my first day of fifth grade was instantly extinguished and instead replaced with the fear of the impending storm. It was Irene, the Category 1 tropical cyclone that made landfall on the Outer Banks on Aug. 21, 2011.
Flash forward seven years and I’m sitting in school, the same anticipation buzzing within the building as we hear worse and worse news about the storm: “It’s a direct hit”, “North Carolina’s right in the bullseye”, “A Category 2 to a Category 4 in just one day”, “School canceled for the whole week”, “Mandatory evacuation beginning Tuesday morning at 7.”
This was more than anyone had anticipated. As I looked around, I saw frantic eyes filling with tears. I saw students brought to hysterics because their parents were adamant on staying on the beach. I saw people jumping with joy because we would be out of school for a week. The storm had brought with it a whirlwind of raw emotion.
This posed the next question: Should you stay to protect the little house you have known for you entire life, desperately clinging to the naive hope that the storm won’t be as bad as predicted, or should you flee, leaving behind the quaint beach town you’ve spent your whole life enjoying? What will happen to the beach road you drove down with your friends, windows down, screaming “Dancing Queen” at the top of your lungs? What will happen to the beach you spent your entire summer at, getting so sunburnt you could barely walk the next day? What about the Walmart you went to at midnight for no reason other than pure boredom? Or the beloved Kmart that always reaked of Nathan’s hot dogs, but everyone secretly still shops at? Or our beloved Front Porch, the safe haven in which we all dished out our hopes, dreams and everything in between?
If you chose the first option and are staying, either by choice or because your parents are determined to sit this thing out and protect all they’ve ever known, then here are some things to keep in mind as Florence approaches: always stock up on preparatory supplies prior to right before the actual storm (there is already a shortage of water and gas on the OBX), which includes food, first aid supplies, water, flashlights, etc. The next step is to fill your bathtubs with water to use in case of emergency, as well as making sure you have supplies to resort to if the power goes out. Finding the safest room in your house is the next essential step. This may be used to hide away if the rest of your house is unsafe or flooded.
To those who are excited for the approaching storm, giddy with the freedom no school for a week has brought you, please be aware of these facts, as of 10 a.m. Tuesday: Hurricane Florence is expected to be near a Category 5 when it hits near Wilmington on Thursday night. To put this in perspective, there has not been this strong of a hurricane to hit North Carolina since Hurricane Hazel in 1954. With winds of up to 135 mph, Hurricane Hazel devastated most waterfront homes and developments. With 60 years between these two, Florence is expected to bring 140 mph winds, making a direct hit on the Tarheel state. More than 1.5 million people have been evacuated thus far after being warned of the “triple threat”: disastrous storm surge, detrimental freshwater flooding, and hurricane-force winds. It is these warnings and projections that could mean impending devastation for our little sandbar, not something to be taken lightly or laughed at. Now is a time more than ever to remain united, lend a helping hand, check in with loved ones, and keep a clear head.
It’s the unknowing — that fear at the pit of your stomach, the unease of what’s to come — that lies within all residents of the Outer Banks right now. So as we batten down the hatches and secure our brightly colored shutters, this is a time to be thankful for all we have and hopeful of what’s to come.
Senior Caroline Jenkins can be reached at Jenkinsca0616@daretolearn.org.
