Midland's Monika Rekola lived in Florida for 15 years. With the southern state facing the threat of Hurricane MIlton, she recalls living amid the fury of hurricane warnings.
Living in South Florida for 15 years, I vividly remember the fear that gripped the community when hurricanes were on the horizon. Lake Worth, just like many other areas, turned into a land of survival.
The anxiety would start to build the moment the weather reports showed a brewing storm off the coast, and we all knew that life was about to turn upside down.
In 2005, hurricanes dominated the news and my life. Hurricane Katrina, Rita, and Wilma swept through one after another, leaving devastation in their paths.
Katrina, of course, went on to inflict historic damage in New Orleans, but before that, it passed over South Florida, giving us a taste of what was to come. I remember bracing for each storm, standing in line at the grocery stores with empty shelves, unable to find gas, and collecting whatever supplies I could.
The reality hit hard — survival kits weren’t just a recommendation; they were a lifeline. Generators, battery-powered radios, candles, bottled water, and canned goods became essential, as the loss of power was inevitable.
Rita was especially haunting. The storm blew through, and for two weeks afterwards, I found myself living without power. That meant no air conditioning in the sweltering Florida heat, spoiled food in the fridge, and a forced dependence on those simple, lifesaving items in the survival kit.
Flooding was rampant, and our local wildlife was in distress — birds displaced, and alligators and snakes pushed into unexpected areas. The chaos that followed was just as devastating as the hurricane itself. We fought off mosquitoes, managed what little we could with flashlights, and tried to check on neighbours, all while battling the overwhelming feeling of helplessness.
There is a real concern for the most vulnerable among us — seniors who face their own unique challenges when hurricanes strike.
I saw it firsthand during Hurricane Rita — residents in high-rise buildings were trapped in stifling heat, struggling to breathe in air that felt thick and unbearable. For many seniors, mobility issues make evacuation nearly impossible. Some are dependent on caregivers or medical devices that require electricity, and when those systems fail, their very survival is at risk. Health conditions like heart disease, asthma, and diabetes become harder to manage when hospitals are overwhelmed and medicines are running low.
And then, there was the looting. As if dealing with the aftermath of a hurricane wasn’t enough, the darkness provided cover for opportunists. In some neighbourhoods, the sense of safety was further eroded as reports of looting surfaced, with businesses and homes targeted while power remained out.
I remember talking to friends about it, how it added another layer of anxiety — you couldn’t even leave your property without wondering what you might return to. We had to become vigilant not just against nature’s wrath, but against people looking to take advantage of the chaos.
But in the chaos of it all, there were moments of pure humanity. Our neighbour Tina brought out her barbecue and started cooking up a feast with all her prime cuts of meat that would have otherwise spoiled in the powerless fridges.
The smell of grilled steaks and chicken wafted through the air, and soon, we all gathered around, grateful for a hot meal amidst the destruction. Those moments of sharing, of neighbours coming together, made all the difference. We weren’t just surviving the storm; we were surviving it together.
Fast forward to 2024, and the eerie sense of déjà vu is striking as Floridians brace for Hurricane Milton, hot on the heels of Hurricane Helene. Less than two weeks ago, Helene brought devastating storm surges, left homes flooded, and forced thousands to evacuate.
Milton is following a similar path to Helene, threatening those same battered areas that are still reeling. The rebuilding process has barely begun, and the stress on the community is palpable.
With evacuation orders once again in place and shelters filling up, there’s a real sense of uncertainty about what comes next. Will homes be left standing? How much more can people endure? As the death toll from Helene continues to climb, people brace for yet another test of their resilience.
Reflecting on those experiences now reminds me how nature’s force can be terrifying. Storms like Milton today conjure up that familiar knot in the stomach. Floridians know the drill, but the drill doesn’t get easier. What remains is the resilience of the human spirit — the will to prepare, to adapt, and, ultimately, to rebuild.
Stay safe, Florida.
