About that hurricane …

And now … the rest of the story.

Last week, I shared my thoughts about waiting for Hurricane Milton. This week, I’m writing about its arrival and how it felt to experience it.

Reporting LIVE from Quail Creek, this is Janet Leonard …

This was how I reported to my friends and family via Facebook the arrival of Hurricane Milton on Wednesday, Oct. 9, 2024. Every two hours, I stood on our front porch, giving them a peek into how the rain, wind, and my anxiety changed over the six hours when Milton forced his way into Tampa.

Six hours of 50 to 70 mph sustained winds – 80 to 90 mph gusts. Rains that would not let up – horizontal rain that pelted the windows. (12.3 inches of rain was reported in New Tampa.)

It was as if the big bad wolf was wanting inside the house. We knew he was coming but didn’t know how ugly and fierce he would be. We could only wait for the worst and hope for the best.

There was no sleeping until the weariness of the waiting and the woefulness of the enduring wore us out. Chuck and I, Evelyn, and her cat, Mary, hunkered down in our living room and watched the news reports. Excuse the pun, but Milton interrupted our favorite regularly scheduled program, Jeopardy!, as we sat in jeopardy.

Evelyn is the spunky 94-year-old mother of Chuck’s daughter-in-law, Lisa, Scott’s wife. She lives nearby in a mobile home. This amazing woman goes to the gym four days a week and dances on Thursday nights. I want to be like her when I grow up.

The big bad wolf kept announcing his arrival with every wind gust. He had the voice of the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz. I kept hearing, “I’ll get you, my pretty.” I would peek out the front door expecting flying monkeys, but the darkness and pelting rain made it impossible to see anything.

While I was anxious, I wasn’t afraid. I prayed, “God, if you don’t calm the storm, please calm me.”

The constant sound of the rain and wind for six hours wore on my nerves. It was exhausting yet fascinating. We were experiencing the worst hurricane to hit Tampa in over 100 years. There is nothing I’ve ever experienced to compare it to.

When the TV reporters announced Milton had arrived at Siesta Key, it was like knowing the big bad wolf was in the neighborhood. We could only guess when and how he would arrive on our doorstep. We knew he had made landfall with a vengeance – 120 mph sustained winds. We were about 74 miles away.

At times, I felt the house shake. I could hear limbs from the live oak trees and fronds from the palm trees pelting the windows and banging on the roof of our house. I would open the front door, take a quick peek, and lock it as if that would keep us safe from Milton.

About 2 a.m., the sounds quieted. The quiet was scary. The darkness held the secrets of Milton’s vengeance. Daylight would show us how angry he was in our neighborhood.

I slept a few hours, and then at 5:30, I reported on Facebook, ALIVE from our front porch, that we were okay, just a bit disheveled and unnerved.

As the sun began to rise, I took a walk through our neighborhood. It was like a scene from a movie. People were walking down the middle of the street to check on all their neighbors and view the damage Milton had left for them to clean up. The sidewalks were a maze of broken and fallen trees. Mailboxes and tree branches were scattered as confetti littering the street. Toppled fences proved that Milton huffed, puffed, and blew them down.

The expression on each face of those wandering the neighborhood told a story of emotions. Dazed, exhausted, relieved, overwhelmed, but most of all grateful.

All the houses were standing. There was cleanup to do, but everyone was thankful there was no major damage. Many of the trees in our neighborhood are large and old. While some were uprooted, none hit a house. One tree arched over a truck but not on it.

We never lost power, but 75 percent of the Tampa area was without power. Why were we spared?

I learned a lot in those six hours. I hope my hurricane experience is “one and done.”

Last week, I shared the scripture in Psalm 107:29. There’s more to the story.

What a blessing was that stillness as he brought them safely into harbor. Psalm 107:30 NLT

I read that the morning the hurricane was to arrive. I kept seeing the word stillness.

Photo provided by Janet Hart Leonard

That word sustained me during the loud, chaotic six hours when the big bad wolf was doing his best to scare me. Anxious but not afraid.

I quoted scripture from the Psalms in my head. I whispered the lyrics to the hymns I held dear during the storms of my life: “The Anchor Holds,” “Sheltered in the Arms of God,” “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms,” and “Through it All.” I learned the lyrics as a child, not knowing the words would give me strength during a hurricane.

Those six hours taught me everything I never wanted to know about a hurricane. The test was hard, but I passed it.

But you know those reporters who are out in the middle of a hurricane reporting LIVE while the fierce winds and forceful rain have them holding onto a road sign? They are crazy! A few friends may have said that about me.

I am back at The Little House on the Alley, reporting ALIVE to my readers. Thank you for following me on my crazy adventures.

Just FYI … I’m working on a column: When God doesn’t answer my prayers in the way I ask Him. This time, He did … but what if He didn’t? I’m pondering that question.

Janet Hart Leonard can be contacted at janethartleonard@gmail.com or followed on Facebook or Instagram (@janethartleonard). Visit janethartleonard.com.