Dear Members and Friends,
Whenever my dad was going to lower the boom he would softly enter the den and calmly switch off the TV. I suspect Hurricane Charlie must be some relation.
There we were, a family on holiday, comfortably ensconced on Kissimmee couches. Just as the Olympic fanfare signaled the approach of the opening ceremonies, the television went “phhzzt” and the room went dark. Charlie had announced his presence. It was as if the inevitable we had attempted to ignore all afternoon was now looming in close proximity.
Earlier in the day our sadness for the residents of Tampa had turned to pity for ourselves as we learned that the level 3 storm decided to take a tour of Orlando as opposed to staying on the west coast. Without many options on offer, I purchased a few extra jugs of spring water along with a lone decorative candle, since the more utilitarian ones were all sold out.
Not long after 6PM, with a misting rain beginning to fall, I noticed a family of four in bathing suits and towels strolling towards the pool that had earlier been closed. It turned out they were from France and had not understood all the dire warnings given in English. They had no idea that a massive cyclone was headed in our direction, so with my very best and most outrageous Bill Bloss Gallic accent I explained that a “urricenne is comeeng zees way!” Miraculously they comprehended and scurried back to their temporary abode. They may have been more fearful of me than the approaching typhoon.
We never got to see if the Athenians had fireworks or not to begin the Games, but exploding transformers and thunderbolt lightning were all we needed to keep us transfixed at the bay window of our condo. From there we watched the sky take on an eerie greenish glow as millions lost lights and others said goodbye to roofs and even their homes. We also listened for the deep roar that would signal the rapid approach of tornados, and the need to take cover on the kitchen floor. Explaining these terrible events to our little one, without being terrifying ourselves, was no insignificant challenge. Yet, in just over an hour it was largely done. The winds were stilled and we ventured cautiously into our car, with a couple from the UK, so that we could access a working radio and hear reports of what was happening.
All tolled, we lost less than a day from our plans, while others lost their lives. Charlie had brought torrents of rain, but no justice. Still, it was inspiring to see that with whole acres of evergreens flattened, Floridians nevertheless stood very, very tall. There may not have been any electricity, but nor did I witness any expression of panic, or anger. Indeed, the checkout lady at Publix supermarket turned out to be just as cheerful and polite working by dim emergency light as she had been in the normally bright fluorescent light. It seems Southern charm and grace are not just a veneer.
Thus it came to pass, that a violent storm which easily decimated utilities, could not diminish the real power grid. It simply brought human potential into stark relief as the vast majority of people pulled together and proved to be far more durable than stone walls and palm trees. In the risk of losing everything, we realized even more fully, all that we truly have, and only have, in Christ and in each other.
From Reverend William J. Keane,
Senior Minister of First Baptist Church of Branford
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