AS EVERYONE in the UP has noticed, 2019 has brought the return of “real UP” winter weather. We have a lot on the ground and on our roofs and, given it’s only March, there will be more to come.
Despite this, we are supremely lucky to be Michiganders. Google the short Popular Science YouTube video, Where to Live in America, 2100 AD, and see the conclusion the producers arrive at after ruling out locations affected by future rising sea levels, category 4 & 5 hurricanes, more frequent and severe tornadoes, drought, rising temperatures, wildfires, and mosquitoes-borne pathogens.
Answer: Looks like we are all moving to Michigan!
This video made me remember the year I experienced three significant weather events: Hurricane Arthur in July of 2014 (in Massachusetts, not Michigan), an earthquake in May, 2015 (originating in Galesburg and felt by me in Traverse City), and a waterspout in October of 2015 – seen over Lake Superior all the way along M28. Fortunately, their effects were largely benign and far outside the impact of a mega-disaster.
My parents are from the Southwest corner of lower Michigan where tornadoes can be a pressing weather concern. As a child visiting my mother’s side of the family, I remember making occasional late-night escapes to the outdoor, underground storm cellar which my great uncle Bud had hand-dug. He lined and roofed it, then capped it with an aluminum door weighted with lead he had melted and shaped from old wheel weights. Looking at it from the exterior, it looked like a cone-shaped mound, covered with green grass and a shiny door. Storm cellars were common in the 1950s and ‘60s and it was not unusual for families to have them in their yards.
There were several times I remember my Auntie waking me up and bundling me off to this outdoor, subterranean fortress. My aunt and uncle used it as a fruit cellar, as well as a safety refuge, so when tornadoes threatened, we would gather in the dimly lit, small space that featured, a dirt floor, a cot, a transistor radio, chairs, apples and potatoes, and chocolate cookies.
My recollection of tornadoes is entirely associated with chocolate cookies. My aunt would magically produce them whenever we had to make for the cellar. They were a chocolate sandwich cookie with chocolate cream filling and swirls on the biscuits. Only once did a tornado come close enough to cause damage, but it was several miles from our location.
This idea of storm-preparedness was passed on to my mother. After we moved to Iron Mountain in 1973, when storms hit, she would have us go to the southwest corner of the basement because it was the “safest corner.” My mom would make us put on rubber-soled shoes to prevent electrocution. Later, when my children would visit, and if the weather turned foul, Playtex rubber gloves were added to our prevention-wear.
Here is a diary entry from my mom which recollects a severe hail storm in 1994:
The girls helped me celebrate my 59th birthday. Throughout dinner, Piper,age 2, kept saying,”Happy Birthday Grandma!” During gift time, Ivy, age 4, decorated me with ribbons and was tickled pink with her creation. Later – bathtime, and then the sky turned black, lightning burst forth and the rains poured from the heavens. Heather hurried the girls into PJ’s – and at grandma’s urging – we put on our rubber flip flops and rubber gloves. Hail soon pelted the ground. We all observed the happening in awe. Looking at the hail, Piper said “There’s your party,Grandma!”
Here, in the relative safety of Marquette, our family tries to maintain a similar feeling of festivity when electrical outages and storms threaten. The kids all remember huddling in the living room around the fireplace with sleeping bags and blankets, books and book-lights, gameboys, candles and flashlights. “Going to the bathroom in the dark” was high on my children’s “best storm memories list.”
Filling the bathtubs and pitchers with water, bringing in a supply of dry wood, and getting secondary light sources ready are a part of our continuing emergency routine. I guess preparing for the worst is in my genes, as well. My daughter Piper laughed when I said I was considering writing about storm preparedness and then quickly found a screenshot of a message I had sent her during Snowmageddon – when she was living in Washington DC. The news said the DC grocery stores were out of water, the government was shut down, and people were abandoning their cars in the middle of intersections when they got stuck. Of course, I had to warn her to get ready for the worst!
Before Friday – Make sure you buy lots of food – some that requires no cooking or refrigeration, bottled water, flashlight, batteries. Fill up jugs/pans with water. Leave work early Friday and bring the following week’s work home with you. Get all of your warm clothes ready! And HANG ON! (Giggle) Refer to “Snowmageddon” of 2010. Consider navigating your apartment complex if the electricity isn’t working. Will doors, elevators open?
I guess we can add “send texts that make your children laugh” to the list that includes chocolate cookies and Playtex gloves.
My oldest daughter, Ivy, was on the east coast for Hurricane Sandy and has lots of horror stories from that event and the additional week of outages from a snowstorm that followed it. She would add propane cartridges – for use with camp stoves – and wine to our list of things to procure before a storm.
I would add to her list a large scooping device and bucket, should she ever run into the “snowing inside the house problem” she alerted me to one winter night. Something caused her to wake up and check the inside porch on the north side of our home. It was a good thing because the whole thing – including furniture, plants, computers, carpeting – was buried under several inches of snow. There was a lot of confusion at first. She thought there was an intruder; I thought the roof collapsed. What we discovered was that a screen had not been shut in the fall. When the blizzard and gale north wind hit, precipitation accumulated inside of our home.
Though these silly family stories might suggest it, I’m not making light of catastrophe and the sometimes devastating after-effects to life and property. I fully understand the gravity of these awful occurrences. However, I am is grateful to be living in Marquette, Michigan – where we are surrounded by snow, waiting for spring flooding, hoping the shoreline holds, speculating about a future population influx, and eating chocolate cookies.
Last Letters /No Regrets is a multi-faceted business devoted to words, their purpose, and application. Heather Mlsna is a professional writer and can be reached at lastlettersmqt@gmail.com or (906) 250-5769.
HURRICANE ARTHUR SIDEBAR
DAUGHTER IVY’S PERSPECTIVE ON OUR EXPERIENCE WITH HURRICANE ARTHUR
BY, IVY MLSNA
It was the summer of 2014. At the blissful age
of 23, my biggest concern was whether or not the sun was going to be shining
over the weekend so I could enjoy my beach days to the fullest. The 4th of July
is my partner’s (Alex) favorite holiday, and we’ve cultivated a wonderful
tradition of taking off the first week of July each year to go bask in the sun,
explore Cape Cod on the boat, and go fishing. My mom and my sister decided to
come visit over the 4th that year, and I was excited to share our new “tradition”
with my family.
They arrived to typical MA July weather – hot and sunny with cloudless skies.
We spent almost four hours sitting in traffic to get from our apartment outside
of Boston to Alex’s family’s house at the “elbow” of the Cape – a new
record. I suppose we must’ve made it to the beach that first day, but what
stands out about the 4th of July that year was the hurricane. The sun most
certainly did not shine on this beloved beach holiday!
Normally, we’d anchor the boats up in Pleasant Bay to watch the fireworks set
off by a local resort. No fireworks this year! Instead, we stayed inside with
Alex’s extended family to enjoy dinner and drinks. Now, I’m not sure why, but
no one was particularly concerned about the storm raging outside. This was unusual,
as both my mother and Alex’s mother are really into storm-preparedness. I
almost always get a text from one, or both, of them if a particularly large or
windy storm is heading our way. What was most surprising was my mom’s request
to “go out and see the storm.” This, coming from the woman who fills
up her bathtub anytime the wind blows over 60 mph? She’d had quite the string
of storm events that year, so I guess she decided to embrace the experience.
Alex’s younger sister and cousins were keen on “seeing the storm” as
well. So, I piled my mom, my sister, Alex’s baby sister and two younger cousins
into my 5-passenger car to drive to the waterfront.
I could barely see out of the windshield,
given how dark it was and how hard the rain was pouring down. Branches and
debris littered the streets. Literally, no one else was on the roads. We safely
arrived at the Chatham lighthouse about 10 minutes later. There was a news crew
there doing a broadcast about the storm. We got out of the car, felt the strong
arms of the wind and the pelting rain, and noticed a boat floating out to sea.
The wind and/or wave action from the storm pulled the boat off of it’s mooring,
and it floated right past us on it’s way out to the open ocean. One of the
cousins tried to get the reporters attention so they could film the boat – they
didn’t seem quite as interested in this detail as we were. Oh well. Soaked to
the bone, we piled back into the car for the journey home.
At this point, the excitement of the storm was wearing thin for me. We were
cold, wet, getting pushed all over the road by the wind, and had just witnessed
a very expensive piece of property being washed away. There was a very large
branch in the road that wasn’t there on our drive in, which made me start
worrying about additional branches falling on the car while we navigated back
to the house. I had a lot of precious cargo in my car. All I wanted to do was get my sweet sister,
crazy mother (just kidding, Mom!), and Alex’s family members back safe.
I’m not sure what made us so brave (or dumb) that night. I do know that with any future hurricanes, I’ll be following an older tradition of my own family – stock up on food, fill up the bathtubs, batten down the hatches, and stay inside!! Go to the southeastern corner of the basement if need be, but not out into the storm.