Stormy Courtship

Recalling the four months when John and I were engaged brings back memories of wedding plans, interrupted lesson plans, and John getting to know my family VERY well. We were engaged in August 2004, and then nature went crazy.

That August, we spent some quality time with my parents, my sister Gail, and her dog Bubby, as well as unwelcome guests Charley, Frances, and Jeanne. The school year had barely started when we were sent home by Hurricane Charley. John and I stayed at my parents’ house, though Charley moved over Florida from west to east, so we really only experienced severe thunderstorms by the time it reached us on the east coast. And the December wedding plans marched on.

Then the school district canceled school for Hurricane Frances, after making sure this storm would not treat our area as lightly as Charley had. We were grateful for my dad and his generator, which enabled us to use the oven and watch movies on the cable-dead TV. The storm passed, school resumed, and our search for a church continued. We were running out of options. The desired churches on our list were all significantly damaged, except the largest one. Even though we didn’t need a church that large, we liked it and booked it. Then held our breath and prayed.

Barely a week or two passed before Hurricane Jeanne headlined on the news. School finished up that Friday afternoon at the regular time, and Jeanne was set to arrive the next morning; the school district held out as long as possible. (One thing about this round of hurricanes – they did conveniently make landfall on weekends.) After finishing another round of movies and waiting for the electricity to be turned on, we set out to see what our chosen church looked like. Was the gold steeple still there, or was it slammed into the roof of the church like the one in Cocoa Beach?

The church was still intact, and the wedding plans moved forward. Once we left August and September behind, I was able to focus more on the planning, as well as appreciate what the hurricanes had accomplished for us. Each time we went to my parents’ house for a storm, the pile of “irreplaceable” items that I took with me got smaller. In the process of packing and unpacking and packing and unpacking, then saying “I’m over it – let it get (potentially) ruined,” I stopped putting my books in the bathtub in case of flooding. I sorted through clothes and belongings and managed to get rid of a lot of stuff because I realized it was just that – stuff.

Now that we live in Georgia and don’t have any TV channels (we don’t have cable), I have forgotten about hurricanes. But I looked at the news online today, saw the headline for Tropical Storm Ernesto, and visited weather.com to get an update.

It turns out I STILL can’t escape hurricanes. If this season lasts as long as the ones in the immediate past, then I could see my name in the news. And my husband’s. And my brother Kirk’s. We’re all on the list of storm names.