A change in perspective of re-assessing life after the storms.
For the third consecutive year, residents of Fort Myers Beach are left asking if it is time to move on after yet another hurricane is followed by another and another. Melody King has spent her entire life living on the beach. She summed up the sentiment after the most recent storm from Hurricane Milton, whose winds reached 100 mph along Florida's west coast. "If you're thanking God that it was only a Category 3," King said, "maybe it's time to reevaluate what we're doing here.".
After Hurricane Milton
"The day after Hurricane Milton, King says, was a strange mix of relief and anxiety. Her house made it; most didn't. Driving through Fort Myers Beach with sand covering the streets, King streamed the damage live, showing collapsed homes and destruction and, at the same time, feeling comfort when her home stayed standing.
A History of Devastation: Surviving Hurricane Ian
On her 39th birthday, two years ago, King lost everything in Hurricane Ian. A Category 4 storm, it submerged her mobile home in a 12-foot storm surge and left it completely destroyed. King, along with her 13-year-old son and dog, Chico, were out for eight months. She was without a car for over a year. She also helped in post-storm search and rescue efforts as a boat captain, an effort that left her-and many others-emotionally scarred.
Hurricane Helene and Milton: The Strain of Back-to-Back Storms
The psychological hit on Fort Myers Beach residents has been huge. In the past fortnight, they weathered Hurricane Helene narrowly miss, then had to get their minds back in order for Hurricane Milton. Neither storm even remotely approached the destruction wrought by Ian, but the double whammy has many asking whether life in this storm-battered part of Florida is sustainable.
A pile of debris remains just steps from the beach in Fort Myers Beach, Fla., in June 2023, almost nine months after Hurricane Ian ravaged the area. (Thomas Simonetti for The Washington Post) |
Residues of Hurricane Ian: Fort Myers Beach residents adapt to new realities
Surviving the Worst: Loss and Survival Perspective
Indeed, the devastation for those living on Fort Myers Beach can make drowning in that water and muck minimal in comparison. Many recall authorities pulling bodies from the water, and for several months afterwards, they could smell the rotting remains stuck in the mangroves and under the shrimp boat docks. When homes and families are safe, loss of roof shingles or a business stands forth as an insubstantial matter.
Emotional Cost of Hurricane Ian
"Ian is the new bar," said Patrick Romcoe, who lives in Fort Myers Beach. This means that the severe damage brought about by the hurricane has become the new measure for them when assessing other storms. But this new benchmark has brought their resident, Melody King, an emotionally complicated situation. They are rebuilding and moving on but cannot heal.
Recovery Without Healing
As Melody King tells it, "We're glad it wasn't worse, but it's still bad." They are thankful to have come through another storm, but the overall impact has made their own complete recovery impossible. There is pain from the loss of friends, homes, and livelihoods. They manage to pick up the pieces but continue on.
The Indelible Trauma of Hurricane Ian
Psychological Wounds that do not Heal Over Time
Hurricane Ian brought with it much more than just the destruction of physical infrastructures; it left emotional wounds on residents such as Melody King, now a vocal advocate for the future of Fort Myers Beach. The Category-4 storm claimed the lives of around 150 people and brought forth unprecedented damage throughout Lee County. Although the community may have shown toughness in rebuilding itself, most residents, like King, will admit that they have become numb to this cycle of loss and recovery.
A New Normal
First, there's David Lowery, who's almost like a father figure to King. He's grown accustomed to the dump piles and the empty lots where houses once stood. For Goulet and others, though, the triggers are emotional. Goulet lives in a trailer, but she spent months in a storage unit. Anxiety grips her whenever strong winds blow: "You never know when it's coming back.".
Financial Strain Adds to the Burden
Not only is the loss emotional, but it has been challenging to hold on to the beach life that families had at heart. Lowery is working his days for $15.50 an hour to be a dock hand at 67 after leaving him $167,000 in debt from Ian. But with the rising cost of insurance and frequent repairs, family recovery can be just as tough.
Frozen in Uncertainty: Rebuilding the Town
Efforts have been made to rebuild Fort Myers Beach, but progress remains slow. Homes and businesses remain undone and unfinished, caught between building codes and regulations. The next hurricane undoes all the good that King and so many others do-whether it's restoring the beach or rebuilding landmarks. "Every time we get five feet forward, a new hurricane knocks us back 100," this fierce cycle had brought her to ask herself whether life is pushing her in an unwanted direction.
A Devastating Blow, But Not the Worst
Hurricane Milton slammed its way across a battered state, laying to waste much of what is left and killing at least 17 people. Six of those deaths came in a stunning tornado outbreak that rolled into communities unprepared to meet such a threat.
The 100mph gusts from the storm reduced mobile homes and historic Florida estates to splintered rubble, toppled concrete canopies over gas stations, and felled metal cranes as it knocked out power for millions. Returning from evacuation centers on various keys and islands, residents found crumpled buildings, torn-open roofs, and household appliances strewn across sand-filled streets.
A crane that fell into a building during Hurricane Milton in St. Petersburg. (Ted Richardson for The Washington Post) |
Storms Back-to-Back: Resilience Amid Exhaustion
Just days after Hurricane Helene took 27 lives and brought storm surges destroying everything in their wake, locals like Melody King breathed a sigh of relief avoiding a disaster like Hurricane Ian. "This wasn't an Ian," King said, thinking about how widespread the damage was as Hurricane Helene churned through. People learned to clean up again, living without power and finding a new "normal" in the storm's wake, once again.
The Weight of Exhaustion
By Thursday afternoon, King felt the pounding. Running on adrenaline for 48 hours, she needed a break. She ordered a spicy margarita and a hearty meal at O'Leary's Bar and Grill, sitting surrounded by locals who were tired but determined. The pub was full of laughter and stories of survival undergirded by everybody knowing they had just survived another relentless storm.
A cycle of recovery never actually ends.
Meanwhile, at a Chevron on San Carlos Boulevard, miles away, the manager, Khan Salahuddin, was grappling with the hurricane in his own way, too: getting his business up and running after Ian, Helene and now him and another employee cleaning the mud-coated floors. "It takes us three days to clean each time," Salahuddin said, rubbing the corners to prevent inevitable mold growth.
Preparing for the Next Storm
All this while, King had warned Salahuddin that another storm could be brewing—that is, Nadine. With a tired expression, he asked, "Again?" King's was stern but with a wryness in his voice, "Again, maybe. Nadine is my mother's name so you know she's gonna be bad." The community had endured so long without respite that the very act of preparation and then replenishment weighed so heavily that somehow, though they all grudgingly did so, they all stiffened to whatever the next storm that would crash into Long Beach would bring in.