by Sarah J. Blake
September 2, 2005
In the fall of 2002, I moved to St. Petersburg, Florida, to work as a technical writer on contract with a manufacturer of adaptive technology for people with visual impairments. I hoped that the move would eventually lead to my obtaining a full-time position at the company. The full-time position never materialized, and the contract work stopped coming in early 2003; but I stuck around in the hope of finding another job--St. Pete was a much bigger city than Anderson, Indiana, where my parents lived. My parents never rented out my apartment in the upstairs portion of their home; but I was bound and determined to make a life for myself in Florida. I didn't want to live off Mom and Dad anymore.
I did not experience many problems with life on my own. I had two roommates, who were also blind. One of them held a full-time job and owned the house we lived in. We all had various levels of homemaking skills, and when we needed outside assistance we called on neighbors or other acquaintances or hired someone to help out. I was very comfortable with these arrangements and never had any doubt that we were "competent." My sister needed help with household things at times too--she called my parents instead of the neighbors when her plumbing was broken. Occasionally we traded favors with acquaintances, providing child care or dinner in exchange for their help.
The move to Florida was in many ways a new lease on life for me. I had moved with my parents to Indiana from Texas in 1998 following the breakup of my marriage and other personal difficulties. My move was followed by a series of significant medical problems which made it impossible for me to work full-time. Being well enough to work and live a somewhat active life again was exciting. Moving into a house full of cats was exciting, too. I wasn't sure if my cat, Inca, would think so; but she settled in after a few weeks, and eventually I adopted a second cat from a shelter. When one of my roommates moved away and could not take all of her cats, I adopted a third.
Christy and I lived alone for several months; but eventually we decided to open our doors to a new roommate. Amy moved in with her dog guide in May, 2004; and our house became lively in new ways. Amy and I both played the piano and had electronic keyboards; and one of our favorite pastimes was to set up our keyboards and play and sing together. I looked forward to many of these nights for years to come--I had no reason to think that circumstances would be otherwise.
On August 12, 2004, I met my match. I wouldn't understand it for a few weeks; but I did. Our neighborhood was evacuated due to the approach of hurricane Charley, at the time a category 1 storm which was predicted to make landfall in Tampa.
I was confused but dutifully packed up a few items and my dog guide to take with me to the home of friends from church after parting with my three cats at a boarding facility. My roommates took their cats and service dogs to another friend's home. Growing up in Houston, weathering category 1 storms had been a regular event.
I learned later that the reason for the evacuation was that unlike Houston, where I lived as a child, St. Petersburg is literally on the beach. Houston is 50 miles inland, and storms have some potential to weaken and storm surge is less of a concern there. My home in St. Petersburg was only a couple of miles from the water.
The Tampa Bay area had not had a direct hit from a storm since 1921. This created another problem for residents in Charley's path: all the new buildings had never been tested in a hurricane. Overcaution was the name of the game. I was glad that we would be safe, but I felt out of place--and I missed my cats!
The next morning, Charley had strengthened to a category 2. My friend's little girls played outside for a little while. I tried to get some work done on my laptop while we had power, assuming we would lose it later. Suddenly, I learned that Charley had become a category 4 storm! When did this happen??? How could it happen so quickly?
Charley did not hit Tampa. It turned suddenly and came ashore south of Tampa, destroying a small retirement community--a community where many Pinellas County residents had sought shelter. My friend told me gently that she realized after seeing the devastation on the news that if another storm came she could not house me because she did not feel that her family would be able to prepare adequately and that she could not emotionally handle the responsibility of housing people who were not family members. I thanked her for her honesty as she advised me to learn about shelters and seek help from police and relief workers; but inside I knew that I couldn't do it. I had spoken with several other blind people in the community who had been turned away from shelters during previous storms with their dog guides. I thought that surely shelters must allow service animals; but who had time or energy to argue about this when there were time-sensitive things to be done? I didn't... If another storm came, I would have to find a way to leave ... or I would have to ride it out at home. I couldn't afford to board the cats again anyway--this time had cost me $60, and we had gotten one measley rain shower. I only brought in $550 each month. Mom would say that's why I shouldn't have cats... But who expects to have to evacuate the neighborhood?