Rock-tober 08, 2017

Y'all, this has been a year for hurricanes with 2017 on pace to becoming one of the most active and dangerous seasons on record. Hurricane Harvey came ashore as a Category 4 and struck deep into the heart of Texas, the first hurricane to do so since Celia in 1970. Some areas received up to 40" of rain and damage estimates in Houston alone are at twenty billion and rising. Some bean counters say Harvey may be the most expensive hurricane to strike the mainland US simply because of the population density of the affected area.

Irma then made her appearance. Speaking with family and friends back in South Mississippi, there was a palpable trepidation as forecasters attempted to predict Irma's path. I watched with concern as an early, single outlier in the spaghetti model showed one errant track that curved through the Gulf and right up to the Mississippi coast - also known as "Landmassia" to the uninformed, geographically inept media. Unfortunately, it was Florida that bore the brunt of this monster. Wider than the entire peninsula, Irma took her sweet time plodding up the west coast. Fortunately, all my friends from the Sunshine State have all checked in and reported minimal damage to hearth and home.

Now, as I write this, Hurricane Nate made his landfall near the mouth of the Mississippi river just a whisker into Category 2 storm strength. I'm talking to Mom on the phone and in Long Beach, she's reporting rain with high winds, but nothing severe as of yet. While all hurricanes must be taken seriously, I hope based on the speed and strength of this storm, it will be more of annoyance rather than a severe threat to life and limb.

Live on the Gulf Coast and you can expect a few certainties.

• We have two seasons: sweltering summers and mild winters.
• The seafood is superb.
• Hometown Mardi Gras parades are more relaxed but just as festive as the throngs of humanity in New Orleans and Mobile.
• You have to deal with the occasional hurricane.

I've written previously of how my family sheltered in place for Hurricane Elena, but she was not the first storm we rode out. In 1979, during Hurricane Frederic, I remember taking shelter in one of the stoutly built warehouses at the Naval CB base. Mom and I (Dad was deployed at the time) were packed in with hundreds of other families waiting out the squall. The CBs kept one of the warehouse loading bay doors open to keep watch. When I stepped up to take a look outside, it was the first time I'd ever seen the fury of a hurricane. As a 9-year-old kid, I was somewhere between fearful and awed.

The Gulf Coast recovered from Frederic, as it's recovered from every hurricane that's ever come knocking. The resilience of the region and its people is inspiring. After Katrina, I remember some talking head in the media ask, "I don't understand. Why don't these people just move if  they know hurricanes are a known threat?" I unleashed an explosive tirade of expletives at the TV. Are Malibu residents encouraged to abandon their homesteads because of the frequency of mudslides and forest fires? The entire midwest is called tornado alley for a reason. Should those folks relocate? The threat of a massive quake hangs like the Sword of Damocles over San Francisco and LA. Are their residents called ignorant rubes for sticking around? For crying out loud, Manhattan itself is sitting on a fault line. Where are the calls to abandon the island?

To be fair, I know some families that did emigrate after Katrina. While there are still numerous vacant lots, there's also no denying the Mississippi Gulf Coast is recovering above and beyond what was there previously. Other hurricanes will undoubtedly swing through, and Landmassia will no doubt weather and recover from them as well. Home has a powerful draw, and, like the stout, moss draped live oaks standing like sentinels in the area, its people are amazingly defiant. It'll take more water than what any hurricane is packing to wash us away.