Before a hurricane hits, it’s the most beautiful weather seen, in some time.
“The calm before the storm,” as they say.
After Hurricane Helene, there was so much destruction. Never did I think I’d live to see the day where it was as widespread as it was on Sept. 27, 2024.
And then it happened again, just 12, somber days later.
What separated the two storms were distance, storm surge versus wind and expectations.
Yet, we still shine.
The community I saw, and felt, was as widespread as the damage the storm created.
I saved you for last. I edited every page in the November issue, prior to attacking this letter. I didn’t know where to start, what to say or how it should be said.
It’s 11:29 p.m. on Oct. 17, and I’m still not OK. I, like many of you, have been struggling.
I typically use this column to share love, resources and positivity. Sometimes a timely experience I think others can relate to, or a lesson learned. But this month, I only wanted to share the combustible anger so many of us our feeling.
Hurricane Helene and Milton have devastated me and my family. We are, for the second time, in seven years, displaced from our home, thanks to Mother Nature. Estimates are 6-9 months, and we are struggling to figure out where we will live, and how we will pay for it.
I keep asking myself, what would I do without my husband, Jose Bello. We constantly remind each other, “it’s the little things.” He makes me laugh, it’s the thing I love the most about him. It’s the respite needed after long days of fighting for what’s right.
And then I ask myself, why is this a fight!? I pay the insurance companies every year, I pay my taxes every year. Why is it that I have to fight for what’s rightfully mine, bought and paid for? Where is my advocate? Where are the advocates for so many others?
What, and this is a BIG one, are people without my network and resources doing to navigate THIS storm?
And how do I thank Todd and Julie Hall for welcoming us, Sir Bentley and Mar(‘Tini) into their home, for the last three weeks!?
Not only do I not have answers, but I also have so many more questions! And I have so many people reaching out to me for those answers, and I don’t have them. I feel helpless at times, I bet you do to. And we are allowed to feel that way right now. Take a pause, and give yourself permission to feel all the feelings, as confusing or new as they may be.
Hurricane Irma, which took my home in 2017, was an anomaly. It was a microburst – or tornado – spawned by Irma, on expert accounts. That could have happened anywhere and it does. This flood event hit not only my home, and my whole neighborhood, but also Jason Baker’s whole neighborhood. The entire coastline has been dragging their belongings to the curb for weeks, and it will likely be changed, forever. It’s alarming to witness, we are literally living in a war zone. One has to see it, with their own eyes, in person, to believe it. It’s been more than three weeks and we still have debris in our yard and all along our street. It’s a hazard, in and of itself. “Thing 1” took 90% of our home and its contents, “Thing 2” finished the job. It’s all out there, waiting to be picked up.
What I have gained is even more insurmountable. This community is a thing of beauty, when the world seems ugliest.
People showed up that I never would have predicted. Every day was 12-15 hours and every day, someone surprised us. Every day someone brought food and water, their muscles, their sweat, their grit.
We showed up for each other, there’s no doubt. And we will, again. We will shine.
Who didn’t show up? Our insurance companies, FEMA, the National Flood Insurance Program (NFIP) and our government. As I ‘ve said, repeatedly, Capitol Hill is the one I will die on, trying to affect change with these horrific displays of unfairness.
Some posted snarky comments on my social media, attempts to draw attention to the injustice and tragedy in our region, through national media. Some said, “You’re a CEO,” with the intonation being “get over it.” Some said, “Where’s the personal responsibility,” implying I hadn’t done my part.
Here’s what I have to say. I pay my taxes, all of them, and I pay them all. I had flood, hurricane and homeowners’ insurance. I put up my hurricane shutters. None of it has helped, none of it mattered. If anything, all was a detriment.
Do I live on the water? Yes. Does paradise come with a price? Apparently. My home has been here for 54 years and has never flooded, prior to Helene.
The injustice I’m witnessing is undeniable, not just me, I just happen to have a platform. And I will use it as best I can. The system needs revamping. The “system” is not OK. The system is its own disaster and needs assistance.
With this issue, from cover to back, we hope it brings warmth and hope to you. The good of this community is beautiful. And it is most breathtaking, just as nature intended, right after the worst storms.
