Stronger than Isaias: Pensacola Strong
The second morning after Isaias, I am up early and concerned because my phone is on red. My gas tank is full, and I need, really NEED, coffee, so I plug my car charger in and head to the Apple Market. The Apple Market is closed! The generator is on, and there is a sign saying they will open at 9 with food and hot meals for all. I am more relaxed today. The first day after the storm, I think I was too stunned and overwhelmed, it was hard for me to take photos of all the damage. It felt hurtful. Today, things are looking better.


I drive around; I need more time for my phone to charge, and it is a gorgeous day, and there are trains of electrical rigs and their crews gathering in and about my neighborhood and we are ready to cheer.





Yesterday was all about cleaning out enough of the tree fall and detritus for the electrical crews to be able to get to work; the clean up is not complete, but enough that the crews are out in force. I am not in a hurry to get back to work raking, bending and picking up boughs and logs and hauling it to the pile, but AdventureMan will be up soon and I need to get home and the phone is mostly charged.


Its a terrible photo; I am on the main road, there are cars behind me and I know I shouldn’t be taking this photo but the subject is graphic and illustrative. What you see is a very large tree tangled in electrical wires, those silvery lines running top left to center. This is everywhere. That’s why the storms are so expensive, the amount of time and labor it takes to clear the wreckage and put the electrical system back in order. These people are our heroes!

Back home, AdventureMan sets the priorities; I am mostly manual labor. He is raking; I am bundling into barrels and hauling to the debris pile. The barrels are not heavy, just full of leaves and twigs and all the junk that keeps falling out of the stressed and damaged trees. We love our trees, and this is the price we pay – picking up after them.

As we continue to clear our back patio area and drive, we see electrical rigs at our near corner. AdventureMan goes over to say hello and is told that we should have electricity again within 24 hours. That is great news.


By one, we have made significant progress, and feel good about stopping and going over to the Apple Market to see what they have for a hot meal. There is a parking spot by the noisy generator, and we don’t complain, that noisy generator is what allows the Apple Market to be open. That, and their continual commitment to the community. Locally owned, carrying a lot of local products, the Apple Market has a crew that is committed and loyal. They are there in full force. Every check out has a cashier, and the food area is well staffed.
The coffee shop is closed. That would be really bad, I really needed coffee, and here is what the Apple Market did. They brewed coffee, put out real cream (in a bucket with ice) and sugar and gave it to their customers for FREE, with an apology that the coffee shop was not open. All I needed was coffee, and there it was, and nicely done. I was so grateful. Coffee never tasted so good.


We had hit between breakfast and main meal time, I picked up a chicken and waffle sandwich and AdventureMan had biscuits with pork sausage and bacon and laughed, he who eats little meat enjoying two porks in one meal. And said it was delicious. I had never had a chicken and waffle sandwich before, and it was also delicious. Perspective is so important, don’t you think? And hard labor makes you really hungry, and when you are really hungry, food just tastes good!



We have decided to take the rest of the day off. We are happy with our accomplishments. I am in here trying to summarize what we (all) have been through and the impact of the storm, while AdventureMan takes a snooze. My little Zenobia is sleeping on my feet, just so happy for a peaceful, relaxed moment.
Post hurricane can be really, really bad. In this case, yesterday was stunningly overwhelming, just facing all the damage and all that will need to be done just to get back to normal.
Today is a gorgeous day. People are more neighborly, more supportive post-hurricane. If it were raining – and it often is, post-hurricane, it is more of a mess. The weather is also cooler; this morning was in the 60’s, and that is really helpful for heavy outdoor labor. We are sleeping well at night with no air conditioning, windows open.
At the non-operational streetlights, people are civil. They are taking turns. On the side streets, people are being more courteous, not honking (much) and giving way when we have to accomodate trees in the road kind of driving.
All of these are not-so-small blessings. The texts flying back and forth “Are you OK?” “Did you have much damage?” “Would you like to come stay with us?” are so reassuring. We are a community and we are looking after one another. I can’t wait to see the Grafitti Bridge. Someone will paint something wonderful reminding us we are “Pensacola Strong.”
Isaias: The Overwhelming Aftermath
We are both up early the next morning, carrying our lanterns as our house is still very dark. AdventureMan’s first goal is to get the shutters open so we have daylight, and mine is to clear the driveway so our son and grandson can come help us with some large boughs which were blown down. Below is the first thing we see, the bottom of a very large tree overhanging our neighbor’s yard to the left. It is wedged between two trees in our far back yard in the middle, and most of the branches and tree top have fallen into our neighbor’s on the right. We couldn’t figure out where the tree came from, and then discovered it was one of our trees. The wind had lifted it, twisted it and somehow it became wedged between two other trees and hangs in the air like a teeter-totter. A very lethal teeter-totter. We call our Arborist, a tree specialist with special equipment – this removal will be tricky. And expensive.





But first, we scan the nearby neighborhood. As we are walking, our neighbor catty-corner across the street comes over to ask about damage; we assure her we are fine. She is also fine. This is the first hurricane after the death of her husband, and she weathered it alone and has no damage, not even water in her basement. We did a happy dance.

An early morning walker comes along, one we know, and she says “Do you smell gas?” which we did. We can’t figure out where it is coming from so I call the gas emergency number where I leave a message with their automated service. A couple hours later I get a call back and gas people show up and find the leak at one of our neighbor’s house where a tree had broken his gas pipe when it fell.
Around the corner I can see where a huge tree has uprooted and fallen on another neighbor’s house. It doesn’t look backly damaged, but I later learn the tree penetrated the house, and if anyone had been in the part where the tree landed, they might not have survived.

I first met most of my neighbors during Hurricane Sally. We all wave as we come and go, but now we are having real conversations, all of us outside cleaning up.

Cleaning up. It’s like a major move. You look at all the pieces, everything that needs to be done, and it is overwhelming. You look down the street, and see a big tree down totally closing off the street. You see live power lines down on the street (we reported the one close to us, and crews appeared almost immediately to clear it from the street.) We know better than to go near a live wire. All around us, the streets are full of boughs and leafy debris. We clean the worst off the street so traffic can pass. We work together.
It’s bizarre to have such a beautiful morning following the horrifying winds.
The hugeness, the enormity of all that needs to be done saps your will. We work for a while, eating that elephant one small bite at a time, and slowly, slowly, we see progress. The shutters are open, and the bands stowed away. The drive is cleared enough to be passable.

Our son brings his chainsaw, and he and our grandson cut a heavy limb into 2 foot pieces; Public Sanitation won’t pick up larger peices. Even these 2 foot logs are heavy, and they carry them to the debris pile. We are so grateful for their help, and the heavy duty chainsaw breaks. It did its job. We’ll buy him a new one for Christmas if it has totally kicked the bucket.
While we are cleaning, the National Guard arrives, doing what they are trained to do, help people who have been hit by emergencies. They are doing an initial survey of loss, making a quick list of priorities. The trees have to be cleared off the roads before the power teams can come in. Major streets are blocked, and the fallen trees have taken down power lines as they fell. Hundreds of power lines down. Thousands of National Guards people here to help, and we are so thankful for their presence.

The job isn’t done by a long shot, but it’s all we can manage for today. We have light, and our drive is passable, and the largest boughs are stacked on the debris pile. Our son and grandson head home; they still have a lot to do, and they have a fence that blew over in places.
It’s past lunchtime, and AdventureMan and I decide to see how clear the streets are and what kind of damage has been inflicted outside our neighborhood.
There is SO much damage. Trees ripped out of the ground, blocking the major roads. A BMW is stuck under a tree, and we wonder, “Was this guy out driving during the hurricane and had a tree fall on him, or was he driving shortly after the hurricane and did not see the tree fallen on the road and crashed into it?” With no streetlights on, it is a possibility.
When we come to the first stoplight, it is not operating. People are all of a sudden very civil and polite now, and take turns going through. In the commercial center, there is no electricity. It is Saturday, and nothing is open, not even the service stations – they can’t run without electricity. We decide it is safer to head back home, and as we do, we come across a local Greek food truck just on the verge of opening, “Five minutes!” he calls out and we wait. As we wait, five more cars drive up and when the truck opens, they have more business in one hour than they will normally have in a day.

When we stop, they only have one meal to sell, lamb gyro and Mediterranean salad, so lamb gyro and salad it is. AdventureMan doesn’t eat lamb. He did today, and said it was great. The salad was wonderful; I have been worried about not eating enough vegetables, but this meal was perfect. Everyone behind us also ordered lamb gyro and salad, thankful to get a hot meal. Most people in the area do not have electricity.

The drive home is awe inspiring, in a very depressing way. So much damage. So much work to be done. Pensacola knows how to deal with storms, but Pensacola is not the richest place in Florida, and all this extra work will stretch the budget in very negative ways. Just paying the cleanup will hurt other public services.
On Scenic, a sparkle. The Apple Market, a locally owned IGA store, is open! They have a huge, noisy Generac. They have electricity! The cars are rolling in; Apple Market has hot meals and some of the best groceries in town. We text our son and his family so that they know, too. Everyone loves the Apple Market.
Once home, it is time for a nap, and then we are out once again, trying to clear debris. AdventureMan spots a dark jungly section of our yard where there is more damage, more limbs down, more trees to assess for safety, and he gets us on the list with the local arborist. We will need specialists and special equipment to get our horizontal floating tree taken down. It won’t come cheap, but our flying tree is also endangering two of our neighbors’ yards.
Dinner is peanut butter sandwiches. We read briefly, and then, like folk in the olden days, lights are out and we are fast asleep after a long day of physical labor.

