Is it strange that as I watch, transfixed, the news waiting for the tsunami that I miss Hawaii even more than I did before? But I do. I love those people, I love those islands, I love the life we lived there. I remember hearing the older ones share their memories of the last big one, back in the 50s? It was a surprise back then. They didn’t have the monitoring and tracking systems they have now. Now the residents were awoken to the sirens alerting of the impending danger hours in advance. Everyone knows what to do. Hawaii doesn’t mess around with emergency preparedness. Everyone knows what to do. Everyone knows where to go. The blue pages in every phone book have maps with evacuation centers and explain the sirens and their meanings. (And I wonder, now that no one uses phone books, what fills that educational void? I also wonder if I’m the only one who ever reads the blue pages.)
I want to go back. I want to live there again, someday.
whew! What a bullet dodged there. It reminds me of when Hurricane Dan was headed straight for us. We were ready, waiting, and watching. It took a right turn and lost steam. We got rain, but no more than any other winter storm. School wasn’t even cancelled. (Part of me felt a little let down. We were ready, and I was looking forward to adventure. But I was glad we did without the devastation.)