By Stacey Altherr
Sarasota Florida - Google ImagesWhen I decided to leave my home on Long Island to move to Sarasota last year, many friends questioned me as to why. Aren’t you worried about how brutally hot it gets in the summer? Aren’t you concerned that the high school won’t be as high achieving as the one here in Miller Place? How about the hurricanes?
My answers were no, no, and, uhmm…
Storms always brought me anxiety. Partly, it is because I was spent much of my career as a news reporter and had to be at work –or actually be out covering – during storms. The bigger the storm, the more likely I would be somewhere up to my ankles in water getting quotes from fellow LIers, terrified that car would stall or run off the road.
So, I figured that anxiety would follow me but at least I could be home and frantic. Seemed like a good trade-off.
But this Irma. She was a beast. And she was headed right at Naples, planning on skipping up the west coast like a petulant child until her “Category Fiveness” slammed into my new hometown.
Should I stay? Should I go? Phone calls from friends and family urging me to leave finally swayed me. I packed up my 15-year-old and headed toward the east coast—the Cocoa and Melbourne area.
The friend I was planning to stay with was evacuated since she lived on the river, so we ended up in a hotel, where, because of the kindness of staff, filled with homeless and others stranded by the storm.
Even the local juvenile detention center had to be evacuated, and took over most of the third floor where we were staying.
Throughout the night at our hotel in Cocoa, we had no less than five tornado warnings, forcing us down the staircase (no electricity meant no elevator) in the dark with our flashlight, only to have the danger pass and trudging back to our room. The wind howled all night. I peered out the window, too afraid to sleep, as things flew by – from palms from the trees to the 10-foot rain gutter pried loose above our room from the unrelenting wind.
Sarasota dodged a bullet. It fared well after Irma bent east over land. But as we all know by now, other parts of Florida were just devastated. The beautiful Florida keys, a place I love and one day dream of retiring, has been ravished by the wind and water. Irma went all the way up through Tampa, where storm surges caused extreme flooding. The storm continued its destruction up the middle of the state and across Georgia and South Carolina.
Yet, Long Islanders are not immune to hurricanes or any storms. Superstorm Sandy, which never even reached hurricane status, cut a huge swath of destruction across our beloved island, putting much of the south shore underwater for weeks. Snowstorms take lives and rattle us, as well.
In California, it is wild fires. In Mexico, an earthquake.
No matter where we live, we must accept that natural occurrences will happen. I guess living in Florida, among white sandy beaches and flip-flop temperatures all year long, comes with a price.
For the next storm, though, I think I will catch a plane back to Long Island.
Stacey Altherr is a former Newsday reporter now living in Sarsasota, Florida. Her beats included Smithtown, where she covered governmental affairs. She now runs a café in Longboat Key near her home and writes freelance. Altherr has won many awards, including a 2010 Society of Silurian Award for community service journalism for a multi-part series, “Heroin Hits Main Street,” and a third-place National Headliner Award for public service for a multi-part year-long investigation on spending at fire districts on Long Island.