Remembering Grandpa

It had been hours since Hurricane James rumbled through the northeastern part of Florida. They said it would only come down as a Category 3; it was like overnight a demon had taken control of the storm, making it a Category 5 when it touched. If you’re from Florida, you would know a Cat 5 is the only category of Hurricanes that would make even the most stubborn of us leave. We’re told that we can better prepare for a big storm with all this new technology and take the proper measures days ahead of time. They don’t prepare you for when mother nature takes over with all her power and fiery. We live on the northside of Jacksonville, away from the coast, we are usually the last to evacuate. When the report came out that James was coming in as a Cat 5, we were all asleep. It wasn’t until 5 AM that the wind really started picking up. Our family woke up to the sound of our roof being taken off. The worst part didn’t last long, and the roof and a part of the garage took the worst damage. No radio, no power, no water. We did have our cellphones, but the rest of the city was in chaos, and we had our own stuff to deal with. “Well, what do we do now?” asked my mother, Lydia. Dad answered back, “We have no roof; all we can do is grab the tents we have and set up camp in the back.” We lived on 2 acres of woodland on a dirt road- we would be the last to get power in any situation. Growing up, our dad went camping every other weekend with his parents. It wasn’t until our Grandpa Randy died 5 years ago that he stopped taking us. Camping was a huge event to Grandpa Randy, and our dad hasn’t looked at it the same since his passing. My sister Andrea and I walked through the beaten house to the back closet, where we had 2 tents stashed. “It’s been years since we even touched these things; I hope this doesn’t make dad go into his dark place again.”, The dark place is what we called the phase of life our dad went through after grandpa passed. He was withdrawn from our family for months, it felt like, not even being able to face us at dinner. Here we are now with a broken home, our city full of destruction, and having to live in our backyard because of it.

       We walked outside to see our backyard in shreds. Trees that had snapped and flew across the yard in the wind, our entire back patio had also taken a huge hit. Our family house was no longer the same one we went to sleep in the night before. Andrea and I started to set up tents in the corner of our yard where the earth had been spared. Our mom walked out to see how things were going, “Your dad just got off the phone with the power company. It could be weeks”. Andrea looked at me and then back at mom, “Are we supposed to live in our backyard until that happens? What will we do for food? Or for water? Or heck, even a shower!?” “We will figure that part out,” mom said. I continued to set up the tent while they went back and forth. I wasn’t worried about camping out back. I thought it could be a great adventure for us. I was concerned about dad; camping brought up emotions in him that he tries hard to suppress.

It took us about 30 minutes to set both tents up. Mom and Andrea walked the property, picking up small limbs so that we could build a fire. The rain from the hurricane subsided and nothing was left of the storm except for the damaged path it left. I walked around the house until I saw dad in what used to be my parent’s room, sitting with his back against the wall. “Gian, why don’t you go back outside and help your mom and ‘Drea?”. My dad looked at me with pain in his eyes. “I just wanted to see how you were holding up. The house will get fixed with insurance, y’ know. Camping out back will be great, don’t you think?”. My dad looked at me with his sad eyes, “I guess you know why I’m in here all depressed, huh? Camping makes me miss Grandpa too much”. We sat and talked for a while about how Grandpa Randy made them catch their own dinner, or how he could always find the best fishing spots on the campsite, so dinner usually wasn’t a problem finding. After what felt like an hour, Andrea came in and asked us to come outside. Mom was standing by the two tents with a small fire, tiki torches left untouched by the storm all around the tents, and dad’s old fishing pole in her hand. The look of sadness in my dad quickly turned to gratitude for what my mom and sister had done. “This looks great, Lydia, where did you even find that fishing pole?” mom replied, “When we were rummaging around in the garage for the torch fluid and saw it sticking out of some debris, Andrea searched under piles of stuff for your tackle box, and we rigged it up for you too.” Dad walked over to my mom and gave her a huge hug and took the pole. “Let’s go, Gian, we have dinner to catch.”

       My dad and I walked down and through the woods to find the pond behind our property. I could tell he felt lighter and the burdens that were weighing on him earlier went into the back of his mind. When we reached the pond we walked around until he felt he had the right spot. He cast his lure into the creek, and we sat while waiting for a bite. “Grandpa used to catch fish with a piece of bread, I don’t know how he did it, he was a true angler.” He said that as his line started jerking. He stood up, locked the fish in, and started slowly reeling it in. At the end of the hook was a catfish. My dad was great at handling Catfish. We used to catch them by the pounds for family fish fries. We sat and fished for about two hours. Six Catfish later, we make our way back to the house. Mom still has the fire going while Andrea is walking the yard again for extra wood. Dad gets to work preparing the Catfish while I round up some kitchen utensils from the house. That night we ate catfish dad cooked on the fire, a can of green beans from our emergency stash, and drank some warm beer we also had stashed. We talked all night about dad and grandpa's adventures and how much we all missed him. 

The next day dad charged up his phone to see what was going on for storm control. Me, mom, and Andrea were sitting around the tents waiting to see how the rest of their city took the storm. Dad came back after making a few phone calls and told us that James had touched down with 170 mph winds. Tornados roared through the inner city and tore down multiple buildings, houses, and apartment complexes. "We got lucky. The neighbors a few miles up the road lost everything. Grandpa Randy was looking over us". 

The next week we spent every morning and every evening catching Catfish, sitting by the fire, and bonded for the first time as a family in a long time. My dad brought up Grandpa Randy with ease and thanked him every day for protecting us in the best way he could. After the worst of the storm damage was cleaned up, we could go into town and get food for different meals. We decided to camp outside for an entire month while waiting for word on how the house would be fixed. Hurricane James changed our lives, but we will never forget the experience.