And now, the aftermath
It's a beautiful day here in east-central Hillsborough County. Leaves are scattered about on our street, but that's the only sign that the weather was the least bit inclement yesterday.
Such is not the case in much of the state -- although, contrary to typical hurricane logic, the problems are not coastal, they're inland. The problems are compounded, of course, by that defiance of logic.
The Charlotte County emergency operations center was built in 1995, according to the St. Petersburg Times, to withstand 111-mph winds. So when Charley paid a visit with its 145-mph shredder, the emergency managers found themselves managing an emergency directly over their heads, as their building suddenly had a sunroof.
There are many casualties in Charlotte County. Nobody yet is saying how many. But they apparently didn't get the repeated "gotta go, gotta go" message that we got here in the Tampa Bay area.
This shows the danger inherent in the improvement in hurricane forecasting. The more definite those little lines on a map are, the easier they are to believe. The National Hurricane Center shows the path of a hurricane in a conical fashion, acknowledging the variance possible in its forecasts. That's why the hurricane warning went from Key West to the mouth of the Steinhatchee -- basically, the entire left side of Florida. Everybody in that area should have been taking it as seriously as we were taking it in Tampa Bay.
But most people don't have nhc.noaa.gov bookmarked. They're watching the TV guys, and the TV guys are showing straight lines, with mild disclaimers -- or sometimes, even less than mild. "It should follow this path ... " "It could follow this path ... " "It appears to be headed right this way."
As of 11 a.m. yesterday, "right this way" did not include Charlotte and Lee counties. It would be easy to blame that on the local media; after all, "could hit anywhere along the Florida west coast" doesn't make for the dramatic television that "coming right to your house" provides.
But:
Let's say the entire Florida west coast had chosen to try to scramble inland. Imagine the chaos that would have created. Florida's not that big; it's not like everybody had somewhere else to go. And in Desoto and Hardee and Charlotte counties, there aren't a lot of places to go nor ways to get there. U.S. 17 can only handle so much traffic, and even if you tried to go from those counties to the southeast, you can't drive across Lake Okeechobee.
DeSoto and Hardee counties are about as inland in Florida as one can get. They're on the northern edge of the Everglades, an extremely rural area. A lot of the folks who live here choose to live in mobile homes. That's a roll of the dice in Florida, but it's also a roll of the dice in Alabama, Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas, Nebraska ... you get the picture.
A lot of questions are going to be asked about how the media and the authorities handled this situation. The answer: Absolutely as well as they possibly could have. It's an inexact science, and most of the public is not trained to handle inexactitude (I don't think that's even a word, but it's my forum, so I can twist the language as I need to.)
I do think the whole theory behind evacuation is open to question. A lot of evacuees evacuated to Central Florida, which wound up being right in the path of the storm. Then, when mobile home residents in Central Florida found themselves under a mandatory evacuation order, there was no place for them to go because so many of the mandatory evacuees from the Tampa Bay area were already there.
So instead of sending people on an ill-defined evacuation path, maybe people should be encouraged to stay close by. Strong shelters can be found in Pinellas County, stronger, at least, than the average mobile home. It's not necessary to run from St. Petersburg to Orlando or Lakeland or Ocala.
No one right way to handle an emergency exists. When lives are at stake -- especially your own -- it has to be dealt with in whatever way that minute dictates. The Tampa Bay area handled that drill very successfully yesterday. Now it's time to send thoughts and prayers, if that's your way, down to Charlotte and hope that situation is not as bad as it currently appears to be.
Meanwhile, two new storms churn in the Atlantic. Danielle appears to be headed north, well away from land. TD 5 -- soon to be Tropical Storm Earl -- looks like it could make its way west. Let's hope some lessons were learned, and let's hope those of us who were spared don't get complacent.
Such is not the case in much of the state -- although, contrary to typical hurricane logic, the problems are not coastal, they're inland. The problems are compounded, of course, by that defiance of logic.
The Charlotte County emergency operations center was built in 1995, according to the St. Petersburg Times, to withstand 111-mph winds. So when Charley paid a visit with its 145-mph shredder, the emergency managers found themselves managing an emergency directly over their heads, as their building suddenly had a sunroof.
There are many casualties in Charlotte County. Nobody yet is saying how many. But they apparently didn't get the repeated "gotta go, gotta go" message that we got here in the Tampa Bay area.
This shows the danger inherent in the improvement in hurricane forecasting. The more definite those little lines on a map are, the easier they are to believe. The National Hurricane Center shows the path of a hurricane in a conical fashion, acknowledging the variance possible in its forecasts. That's why the hurricane warning went from Key West to the mouth of the Steinhatchee -- basically, the entire left side of Florida. Everybody in that area should have been taking it as seriously as we were taking it in Tampa Bay.
But most people don't have nhc.noaa.gov bookmarked. They're watching the TV guys, and the TV guys are showing straight lines, with mild disclaimers -- or sometimes, even less than mild. "It should follow this path ... " "It could follow this path ... " "It appears to be headed right this way."
As of 11 a.m. yesterday, "right this way" did not include Charlotte and Lee counties. It would be easy to blame that on the local media; after all, "could hit anywhere along the Florida west coast" doesn't make for the dramatic television that "coming right to your house" provides.
But:
Let's say the entire Florida west coast had chosen to try to scramble inland. Imagine the chaos that would have created. Florida's not that big; it's not like everybody had somewhere else to go. And in Desoto and Hardee and Charlotte counties, there aren't a lot of places to go nor ways to get there. U.S. 17 can only handle so much traffic, and even if you tried to go from those counties to the southeast, you can't drive across Lake Okeechobee.
DeSoto and Hardee counties are about as inland in Florida as one can get. They're on the northern edge of the Everglades, an extremely rural area. A lot of the folks who live here choose to live in mobile homes. That's a roll of the dice in Florida, but it's also a roll of the dice in Alabama, Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas, Nebraska ... you get the picture.
A lot of questions are going to be asked about how the media and the authorities handled this situation. The answer: Absolutely as well as they possibly could have. It's an inexact science, and most of the public is not trained to handle inexactitude (I don't think that's even a word, but it's my forum, so I can twist the language as I need to.)
I do think the whole theory behind evacuation is open to question. A lot of evacuees evacuated to Central Florida, which wound up being right in the path of the storm. Then, when mobile home residents in Central Florida found themselves under a mandatory evacuation order, there was no place for them to go because so many of the mandatory evacuees from the Tampa Bay area were already there.
So instead of sending people on an ill-defined evacuation path, maybe people should be encouraged to stay close by. Strong shelters can be found in Pinellas County, stronger, at least, than the average mobile home. It's not necessary to run from St. Petersburg to Orlando or Lakeland or Ocala.
No one right way to handle an emergency exists. When lives are at stake -- especially your own -- it has to be dealt with in whatever way that minute dictates. The Tampa Bay area handled that drill very successfully yesterday. Now it's time to send thoughts and prayers, if that's your way, down to Charlotte and hope that situation is not as bad as it currently appears to be.
Meanwhile, two new storms churn in the Atlantic. Danielle appears to be headed north, well away from land. TD 5 -- soon to be Tropical Storm Earl -- looks like it could make its way west. Let's hope some lessons were learned, and let's hope those of us who were spared don't get complacent.
posted by rj at 11:32 AM
4 comments
