The night before Ian (a Category 4 hurricane) made landfall, my dad called me and asked us to please reconsider evacuating. I didn’t want to. The wind and rain had already started and I was scared to drive. I was afraid to leave our home behind, not knowing what I would return to.
One thing you should understand is that we’ve lived in Florida for 22 years – we’ve grown used to hurricanes and the uncertainty that comes with them. We’ve weathered Charley, Jeanne, Wilma, and Irma. My dad is stoic, unwavering, and the farthest thing from a worrywart.
If he wanted us to evacuate, it was because he was legitimately worried about our safety. He insisted that we leave – eventually driving three hours to pick us up and take us back to his house on the east coast of Florida.
Little did I know that my daughters and I would return home relatively unscathed and that, in the aftermath of Ian, we would be presented with a variety of opportunities to positively impact the people around us with the help of GiveWP.
Hurricane Ian Makes Landfall
We sat on the couch in my dad’s home the entire day and watched the storm surge engulf Fort Myers Beach, cresting over a camera that was 6 feet off the ground. I watched as the pier was swept away and was reminded of the morning my sister and I got up really early and drove down to the beach to watch the sunset together from the pier.
I watched as the news showed Downtown Fort Myers – just a few miles from my house – under 8 feet of water. My mind wandered to the many businesses I frequent downtown with my friends and family:
- City Tavern: Where I hosted my first ever charity event for a cause I deeply believe in.
- Scoops on First: The ice cream shop where my children and I grab a scoop of our favorite flavors before wandering the streets during Music Walk.
- Ford’s Garage: The first job I had after being a stay-at-home mom for many years.
- The Luminary: Where I stood outside with crowds of people singing “Patria y Vida” as calls for Cuban liberation became louder and louder.
- Downtown House of Pizza: A staple pizza night location for me and my girls, where we’d pick up a slice as big as our faces, some antipasto, cannolis, and go sit in the back and eat at the picnic tables.
And in that moment, my heart began breaking for my home.
The Aftermath
I had been in close contact with people from my neighborhood – a cluster of townhomes where everyone has a dog (except us, much to the chagrin of my children), kids play outside in the evening, and potlucks are held at the community pool.
I knew we didn’t have power or water, that we were on a boil water notice, and that – for the most part – there had been no major damage in our neighborhood. Most of us lost our privacy fences, some homes had minor roof damage, trees had been uprooted, and a window with no hurricane shutters had been broken by flying debris. All things considered, my neighborhood fared well.
But I knew we were the lucky ones.
I saw the devastation and destruction on the news, on Instagram stories and TikTok’s. Friends sent me photos of their flooded homes, videos of the rising river, boats that had been lifted out of the water and landed in the park and on bridges.
Text messages of concerned friends across the country – forgive the pun – flooded my phone as I sat in my dad’s house, safe from the storm, knowing my home was in good shape.
The Return to Fort Myers
When I told my dad I wanted to go home, I knew I still didn’t have power or water. I knew, in theory, that we would be much more comfortable if we stayed with my dad – where we had power, air conditioning, running water. It was easy to get food and gas.
But I needed to go home. I needed to see my house, I needed to help my friends, I needed to be useful.
I returned home on Friday, my dad’s car loaded up with a generator, extra gas cans and extra gas, propane, and other supplies.
I knew it would be really hard to find these items back home so I made the decision to bring back what I could and give it to whomever needed it. On a whim, I tweeted out and shared what I was doing and told people that they could donate to cover the cost of supplies via my TipJar on Twitter.
Not surprisingly, a lot of people felt compelled to give and I was able to cover the cost of the extra supplies.
As we got closer to Fort Myers, I was simultaneously grateful that we had a truck full of supplies and shocked that even dozens of miles outside of the city, the few gas stations that were open had mile-long lines.
Like passing by a car accident, we gasped audibly as we drove past severe damage and destruction. With the full knowledge that we were still pretty far inland, we tried to prepare ourselves for what we would see as we drove into the city.
I’m not sure anything could have prepared me for the level of damage and loss that we saw as we got into city limits – boats sat on bridges, in parks and intersections, entire facades of businesses and homes drooping, missing roofs, downed power lines, uprooted trees.
Since we weren’t disaster sightseeing, it would be a few days before I would see the worst of the damage. While I drove through Fort Myers to drop off supplies, I saw completely unsalvageable homes and businesses.
My daughters sat silent in the car as we drove through neighborhoods with every belonging at the end of their driveways.
We talked to residents who told us harrowing stories of climbing on to their roofs as storm surge water flooded their homes. Others told us they had been fired for not coming to work, were going unpaid because their employers were closed, or were being required to use paid time off.
Helicopters flew overhead – night and day – on rescue missions to and from Fort Myers Beach, Sanibel, Captiva, and Pine Island.
I feel like I could tell stories of what I heard and saw for hours – but we don’t have that kind of time.
Coming home was a lot – it’s hard not to feel compelled to act in these circumstances. However, I trusted that disaster relief systems we have in place and the organizations coming into town could do more than I ever could.
Access to Disaster Aid
Did you know that FEMA does not provide financial assistance to cover the cost of spoiled groceries due to the loss of power?
Me neither. Not until I started to clean out my own refrigerator – throwing out hundreds and hundreds of dollars in fresh and frozen food, condiments, drinks, etc., and decided to apply to FEMA.
As I moved through the application, which you need access to the internet and a device to complete, I was surprised by the message at the top of the screen that very clearly states that financial relief for spoiled food items is not provided.
Providing financial relief for food assistance seemed simple and wide-reaching, especially with every kid in the county being out of school for the foreseeable future.
In a state where 56.6% of students qualify for free and reduced lunch, and where summer food programs are necessary to ensure children still have access to meals, it’s a cruel policy.
As a single mom, I knew the financial impact the simple act of replacing groceries would have on me – much less families and individuals who were in far less advantageous situations.
That’s when I knew I had to try and do more.
Doing More with GiveWP
Taylor Waldon, my boss at GiveWP, had previously offered to help me build a one-page donation site if I needed it for my own purposes. I reached out to her and told her my thoughts: what if we built a site to take donations so that I could help with whatever people needed – groceries, cash, gas, clothing, whatever?
Within 24 hours, Taylor had built a one-page donation site using GiveWP and Nexcess – the Lee County Community fund.
We have raised just over $1,000 so far. As of today, this is what I have been able to do with the money:
- $200 in Publix gift cards to a family from my daughter’s school.
- $100 Publix gift card and $100 cash to a woman raising three children, two of which are not her biological children, whose home flooded.
- $100 to purchase clothing for two young girls – age 8 and 10 – who lost all of their belongings when their home flooded.
- $100 to replace a young woman’s bedding.
- $100 for hot food containers to pack and deliver food to lower-income neighborhoods.
One chance meeting really sticks with me. While my teenagers and I were packing up hot meals, a man pulled into the parking lot with his father in the passenger seat. I was bringing in supplies when he stopped to ask me if I knew if someone was still in the building with FEMA. I told him they had left for the day and that I was just volunteering to pack up hot meals, so I didn’t know enough to help him.
His eyes lit up when I said “hot meals” – he asked if he and his father could have a plate. I went inside and brought back out two containers for them both and he thanked me. Without thinking, I asked if they needed anything else.
With tears in his eyes, he shared with me that he and his elderly father had lost everything, that they were now living in their van because their home was unlivable, and that someone had fraudulently filed for FEMA assistance using his identity.
I didn’t know what to do in that moment – I had asked out of habit. But I knew I had cash on me, a rarity. I pulled it out of my bag and handed him $100 and he hesitated. I shared with him that people from all over the country had been sending me money so that I could do exactly what I was doing. He accepted it and then asked to hug me.
It was probably the most heartfelt hug I’ve had in years and we both separated with tears streaming down our faces.
Southwest Florida Strong
While most media and recovery efforts have been focused on Fort Myers Beach and barrier islands, like Sanibel, I would like to continue giving back to communities and neighborhoods who feel they’ve been forgotten.
Every day I hear about another individual or family that needs assistance with groceries, replacing lost items like hygiene products, clothing, furniture, and more. Their cars were flooded so they’re taking an Uber or Lyft to and from work. They lost wages because their employer was closed or, worse, lost their job.
Using GiveWP allowed me to get a crowdfunding campaign up and running quickly, empowering people from all over to positively impact the Fort Myers community. Even if I don’t raise another dime, I’m grateful to act as a steward during such distressing times.
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