I have never experienced a hurricane.
That may sound strange, considering I was born in a state on the East Coast, but it is true. Born and raised in Charlotte, North Carolina, nestled in the heart of the Piedmont, I have never been exposed to flooding or catastrophic winds or deluges of rain. The nearest beach is three hours away. We've never talked about evacuation routes or flooding insurance. We've never had to. Yet, right now is the time to do so.
Hurricane Florence is here.
Granted, I was five years old when Hurricane Katrina struck New Orleans, so Florence is technically not the first hurricane to impact North Carolina in my lifetime. However, I remember very little of it, only that it rained a lot. This is the first hurricane I am actually going to experience. How do I deal with a danger I have only heard stories about?
Am I scared? Not for myself. I'm at college in Virginia, where we may get some showers, but ultimately Florence will not hurt us too badly. However, I have my entire family back home – my parents, my brother, my grandparents, my aunts, uncles, and cousins. I have my best friends back home. I have my childhood house, all my memories, baby pictures, and yearbooks – and my life down there. I am so scared it will all be washed away. I pray that everyone is prepared and protected, that God will guard my state and push the hurricane back towards the sea, but I am still concerned. I might go through the same thing millions of other people have gone through. Floridians and Louisianans have lost everything, and I just do not want to lose all I've known. I'm scared to watch it slip through my fingers and float away.
Nothing seems real until it happens to you. When Katrina and Hugo hit, we offered prayers and relief. And while those were certainly helpful, the damage and the impact never seemed real to me. All I could think, in the face of any natural disaster, was, "Oh, how sad. I will do anything I can to help!" But it never had a lasting impact on me, because it never really affected me. And now it will. The danger is real. The consequences are real. Of course, they always were, but not to me.
I know my family and house will probably be okay. However, I also worry for the people on my coast. After all, this article is not titled "A Charlottean's First Hurricane." Rather, it is titled "A North Carolinian's First Hurricane." This is not just my nightmare or my story. This is their story – all the people evacuating or boarding up, all the people who call North Carolina their home. Every horror story about Hugo and Katrina and Harvey and Jose is now our horror story too.
I know we will survive it. Ever since our founding, North Carolina has been a strong state made up of hardy, strong, passionate people. We can be stubborn at times, but it is because of our state pride. We are more than the birthplace of Pepsi and the location of the world's best barbecue. We are vivacious, we are tough, and we will not let this overcome us. From Cornwallis to Cannon, we North Carolinians have faced danger head-on and have come out victorious. Just take a look at our name: we were named after King Charles I, a name that means "warrior."* We are fighters. We are winners.
Although I may be concerned for my home state, I rest easy because I have confidence in my state and in my God, and in the face of tragedy, that is all you need.
