13 years ago...

Hurricane Andrew came ashore in Florida. I was living there then in an industrial park warehouse off Blue Heron Blvd. in Palm Beach County, north of Broward and Dade. My friend and his brother had gone home for their parents' 50th anniversary party about a week before, and we were friendly with many of the guys living on the Singer Island, which was evacuated. So Frank from Maine was my warehouse guest for the night. He slept through the storm, having partied most of the day.

My memories of that night mainly include the noise of the bay door rattling from the ferocious winds and pelting rain. I felt sound enough in the concrete bunker, but that noise was something else. You could get an idea without looking what was going on on the other side of that thin metal. In the morning, it was calm and sunny. A lot of people came back to Singer Island, looking to see the damage and how the beach had been changed. A small body of water had temporarily formed on the sand, where it had washed in but was prevented by a wall of sand from rolling back out. Some kids were splashing around in this warmer water that morning, I remember. Otherwise, people were rather quiet and subdued, having witnessed the power of nature. And most were tired.

Down the street from us at the entrance to the industrial park was an ice factory. Cars were lined up all that week and the next, waiting to stock up for the people directly hit farther south and without power. The newspaper box I frequented was across from the factory, and the newspapers were out soon enough...

Has it really been 13 years? Where is Frank today? I've been back to visit the warehouse, they put in windows overlooking the pond where we kept a canoe. Ah, warehouse living. It was a good life at 23, simple but good.