Trares
“Squalls out on the Gulf Stream,
Big storm coming soon …” — Jimmy Buffett
Our hearts broke with every image.
Demolished houses. Washed-away beaches. Furniture and other possessions piled high along the side of the road.
This fall’s hurricane season has been a devastating one for so many people throughout the southeast United States. Hurricanes Helene and Milton have caused so much loss of life, so much destruction.
Certainly, large swaths of North Carolina and Tennessee have seen the worst of the storms. Recovery in those areas will take years, if they’re able to recover at all.
Our family was watching the impact on another part of the country, though. Siesta Key, Florida, a barrier island just south of Tampa, holds a special place in our lives.
I first visited Siesta Key when I was 7 years old. It was the first time (that I remember) that I saw the ocean. Instantly, I fell in love. The island’s famed snow-white beaches and the bath water-warm gentle Gulf water were enchanting.
In the years since, we returned time after time, first with my parents, brother and sister, then last year with my wife and Anthony. The beach and quaint village were just as I remembered it when we took a trip there last year for fall break. Anthony ate fried shrimp, jumped into the breaking waves and generally soaked in the beach life.
We had so much fun, that we decided to come back again this year.
So when Hurricane Helene started making its way toward Florida in late September, we watched very closely. Siesta Key isn’t very far above sea level, so the predicted storm surge could swamp the spit of sand. Sure enough, in the aftermath of the storm, we saw photo after photo of waist-deep water and flooded landmarks.
Our rental location contacted us, saying that the damage would force them to cancel our reservation. We were disappointed but completely understood — the island was fighting for its survival, and the last thing they needed was tourists.
Because we still had plans to go to Disney World later in our vacation week, we decided to book a hotel for a few days on mainland Florida — in Sarasota, across the Intercoastal from Siesta Key. Even if we couldn’t hit the beach, we could still take in the sea air and sunshine.
Then came Hurricane Milton. Like watching a slow-motion car crash, we followed along the path of the monster storm as it took aim directly at Siesta Key. We ached for the people still picking up from the last storm; how would they survive? Would the island even be there after the hurricane?
Thankfully, the storm surge and hurricane winds were not as apocalyptic as predicted. Siesta Key, Sarasota and much of the western coast of Florida is still heavily damaged, but it could have been worse.
We canceled our plans for vacation. It was a disappointment; Anthony couldn’t believe he’d miss beach time. We had to remind him that people around Siesta Key were going through an incredibly hard time, and there were much worse things than missing out on a seaside trip.
There would still be a vacation, it would just be different than we expected.
We’re holding the people of Siesta Key, and all the areas affected by the hurricanes, in our thoughts. They’ll recover and rebuild.
And when they’re ready, we’ll be there to soak in the sun in celebration.
Ryan Trares is a senior reporter and columnist for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
