On Tuesday, August 27, 2019 I began to worry about Tropical Storm Dorian. That was nine days ago and Dorian was projected to make landfall somewhere around Melbourne, Florida. It was projected to arrive in Florida on Sunday, August 31, 2019. Its development predicted to be nominal, it trajectory rapid. Simultaneously, there was relief as Tropical Storm Erin had formed and taken a northeastern track up the Atlantic. It is always a relief when these storms head out to sea.
By Thursday, August 29, 2019, Dorian was a different picture. The storm had moved north of Puerto Rico and was now predicted to be a "Major" hurricane as it traversed the Atlantic. Landfall was still predicted to be around Melbourne, Florida (landfall predictions vacillated). The storm was predicted to push inland from there. The five-day track published Thursday had the storm predicted to be a "hurricane" on Tuesday at 02:00 inland, in approximately Orlando. Thursday, Governor DeSantis declared a State of Emergency in Executive Order 19-189, for 26 counties, essentially the Florida coastline from Miami to Jacksonville.
On Friday, August 30, 2019, Dorian was predicted to make landfall, still around Melbourne, but now as a Major Hurricane, and then to move up the coastline arriving in Jacksonville on Wednesday. That track prediction looked bad for Florida, but worse for the Bahamas, particularly for Grand Bahama. That island was projected to have the center of the storm present from Sunday to Monday. Governor DeSantis issued Executive Order 19-190 Friday, a State of Emergency for all the counties in Florida.
And, the holiday weekend for many went from a three day conclusion of summer to a three day waiting game. The predictions and tracks continued. The projected path thankfully shifted from the Florida Atlantic Coast to a path offshore. The prediction of a Florida landfall as a Major Hurricane evolved into a path that had no Florida landfall whatsoever. There was relief and hope. There was also continued anxiety as millions of Floridians, all too experienced with these storms, watched the updates from the National Hurricane Center. Likely the only Floridians to be comfortably relieved at that point were in the panhandle.
The panhandle, or at least a large portion of it, certainly deserve to be relieved. Hurricane Michael struck around Panama City less than a year ago. It was the strongest hurricane to make landfall in the history of recorded panhandle storms. The maximum sustained winds were 160 MPH, a Category Five storm. There were those who did not evacuate for Michael. There were perceptions that it would not be as serious as it ended up. People waited, and they watched. For some it was too late to leave by the time the gravity of the situation was realized.
The Michael devastation stretched from gulf coast into Georgia. There were significant impacts well inland, in and around Tallahassee. Almost a year later, much of the debris has been cleared, and the deer fence along Interstate 10 has been significantly repaired. But, the rest stop around mile 133, Cottondale, remained closed when I last drove through about two weeks ago. It has been almost a year, and the people of that part of the panhandle have not yet returned to normal. Their rebuilding may take years.
This morning, Dorian is a Major churning just off the coast of South Carolina. This time tomorrow, it is predicted to be a hurricane still and over North Carolina's outer banks. Many in south Florida are already engaged in what will undoubtedly be a herculean humanitarian effort on behalf of the Bahamas; others will join in that relief effort as normalcy returns here. That track for Grand Bahama turned out to be correct, although the storm moved even more slowly than predicted. That island survived an unprecedented and seemingly endless onslaught. It was the first time in my recollection that the National Hurricane Center labeled a storm "stationary."
It has been a long nine days in Florida. And, somehow it seems longer. These storms teach us that weather professionals have become much more proficient and accurate than was my perception of them in my youth. The storm tracks at five days out are usually reasonably accurate, and they become increasingly accurate over shorter time spans. We learn of their accuracy as we deal annually with the potential for catastrophic weather; it is part of living in paradise.
But, Dorian illustrates that these natural events are not subject to absolute prediction and definition. Just as Michael strengthened significantly and unexpectedly before landfall last year, Dorian altered course and did not make the initially predicted Florida landfall. These natural events can be studied and predicted, but there are no absolutes in prediction. The absolutes come only after. In some instances absolute destruction like Panama City, Mexico Beach, and Grand Bahama. In others, absolute relief as I have heard from some on Florida's east coast after the glancing blow of Dorian.
Too often, our human nature causes us to believe that these storms will not be as predicted. As they approach, we often express denial (it won't really come here, won't really be that bad, etc). And, admittedly we have anecdotal experiences to which we can point. But, ultimately they are a threat Floridians (Texans, Alabamians, Mississippians, Carolinians, Virginians, Bahamians, you get the point) cannot ignore. We are well advised to be thankful when predictions such as the Dorian landfall as a Major are not fulfilled. But we are as well advised to remember the impact these storms can have.
When the officials tell us it is time to prepare we should prepare. Each June, we should have our personal and business plans in place, having thought through what we would do to secure property and where we would go to evacuate. That planning should include young family members, and account for the elderly, pets and other potential complications. When officials tell us to evacuate, we should heed it. Not because the predictions are always right, but because when they are right the impact can be devastating.
I will never forget Andrew. The parade of 2004 is likewise permanently fixed in my memory (Charlie, Francis, Ivan and Jeanne). Irma in 2017 seems like yesterday, as does Michael (in the words of Agent 86, I feel like it "missed me by that much"). Now Dorian joins that list of storms that I think I will never forget. It is a mixture of how bad storms can be and how lucky we can sometimes get.
As I reflect this morning on the last nine days, I feel for those in the Bahamas and worry for those in the Carolinas. And, I am particularly thankful again for the thousands of professionals and volunteers that will flow into the aftermath as they always do. I reflected on that in Because We Need It They Will Come. The humanitarian response to these disasters illustrates the best in us. I was struck by the way social media came alive this week; Dorian had barely begun is turn north when Floridians began to gather material and other support for the Bahamas. It is a testament to who we are.
If we are smart we will pay attention as storms threaten. If we are wise, we will remember that warnings and evacuation orders are for our own good. If we are honest, we will remember that predictions may not always be right, but they should be heeded anyway. And, if we are able, we should be thankful when we get lucky, remembering that there are usually those each time who suffer the impact, the damage, and face the long recovery.
