Disaster during Vacation: Personal Experience

It was August Fifteenth, 1991 and we were ready to embark on the, what was now becoming annual, family voyage to Cape Cod. I thought it was going to be the death of me having to share the back seat with my painfully annoying six year old sister for the six hour car ride. However having to listen to nonstop Raffi through the voice of a chipmunk couldn't prepare me for the natural disaster I would soon face. We arrived at usual, quaint New England, home in North Truro, Cape Cod and we're prepared for a pleasant two weeks of sun bathing and swimming at the beach. All went as planned for the first two days, the temperature was beautiful and the waves were exceptional. Minor reports of a big storm possibly hitting the coast loomed in the back of beachgoers' minds; however nothing could ruin their vacation at the beach. The seemingly endless coast was packed with people who seemed more than content with the weather so far, until the eighteenth arrived.

Word came in from the National Weather Service that a hurricane was most definitely going to hit Cape Cod's coast by early as tomorrow afternoon. When I first received word that we were going to be hit by a hurricane, I jumped with an incredible surge of excitement, like any ten year old boy would if he heard he was going to be involved in something destructive. I didn't know what to think, I mean I had heard about these storms and what they can do, but what was it actually like to be right in the middle of one? My "always thinking" Father quickly rushed us into the car to get the needed supplies for surviving a hurricane. When we got into town there was a mad dash for candles and bottled water. It was like nothing I had ever seen before, but if I had to describe it today, I would compare it to an angry mob tired of standing in line to get power ball tickets. We finally purchased what we needed and went home. We loaded up all the bath tubs for an extra surplus of water, and prepared all the candles we could lay our