The End of the World

In August of 1991, I turned nine years old. I don't remember much about that birthday, but the week that followed is another story.

The news was on in my house constantly that week. There is a chance that something incredibly profound and newsworthy happened at that time in history, and there's a chance that nothing did. However, here is what did happen: Hurricane Bob.

How can you even feel threatened by a hurricane with such a friendly, happy-go-lucky sort of name? "Oh, Bob? He's a great guy. He gave me five dollars one time for no reason, and also he mows my lawn for me when I'm not feeling well. Also, he hugs orphans I heard." See? You cannot even be worried about a man with such a name, so there is definitely no fearing a windstorm named as such. However, people were crazy. It was my very first hurricane, and while everyone else in the city was in a panic, I was staring out the window - waiting, and excited.

I was excited for a hurricane? Of course! My life was so average, but here was an event that was sure to shake things up a bit! High winds? Thunderstorms? Power outages? Famine and looting? Sign me up! At nine years old, I could not have been more excited for the carnage and destruction that this storm promised to bring.

There were multiple trips for supplies that took place, and I made sure I was taken along each time. Mom went to the store to buy candles? I was there. Dad went to the store to buy batteries for the flashlights? Yes please, I will go to that. It didn't matter how mundane the task, I wanted to be a part of it. More than anything, I wanted to be out among the people who were preparing for what seemed like the end of the world. The vibe was intense, and it was like nothing I had ever felt before. I couldn't get enough of it.

The day of the hurricane's arrival, I wanted to hang up signs that said "Welcome, Hurricane Bob! Please destroy the hell out of things so that I can appreciate this panic a bit longer!" I wanted to craft some sort of machine that would intensify the storm, causing it to wreak more havoc than everyone was already certain it would. I didn't want people to die, nor did I want homes to be demolished - I just wanted things to be exciting.

My aunt was living with us at this time, and she said to me the most perfect thing anyone could ever have said.

"Cindy, I have to go to the store - do you want to come?"

Oh, dearest aunt. Do I want to come with you to the store in the middle of a hurricane? I think that you know that I do want that more than I have ever wanted anything in the world. So we left the house, climbed into the car, and drove to CVS. It was raining a bit as we drove along, and street lights swayed in the wind slightly, but I said to my aunt,

"This doesn't really seem very bad."

I feel like most adults would worry when sensing that their nine year old niece is disappointed with the lack of weather-related destruction, but my aunt was amazing. All she said to me was,

"Don't worry. This is just the calm before the storm."

Suddenly, I was reinvigorated! "Don't worry," she said! This day still had hope! The hurricane winds would come, and they would do what I wanted, and they would make everything worth it. So we went home, and I sat back, and I waited.

I wanted to sit near the window to watch the frenzy of weather in my back yard, but my parents were responsible and made sure that I stayed away from any dangerously breakable glass areas. And so, I stayed buried deep inside my house, listening for the wind, for the thunder, for the sound of trees crashing around me. But really, I didn't hear any of that. In fact, I didn't hear much of anything at all. I ended up going to bed, convincing myself that when I peeked out the windows in the morning, the destruction I'd been hoping for would be apparent.

Unfortunately, when I woke up the next day, I looked outside and everything was... normal. Yes, there were a few downed tree limbs, but our shed was still standing! Our cars had not flipped over in the night. There were no gaping holes in our roof from trees that had met their match. My bike hadn't even been knocked off the kickstand.

I'd hoped for a storm that would bend trees at ninety degree angles, with downpours of rain and thunder to shake the earth. Instead I got light rain, subpar winds, and trees that were sort of just irritated that they were being bothered.

We had the mess of the aftermath cleaned up in an afternoon, and just like that, it was as though Hurricane Bob had never even happened. Life returned to normal. People in stores were calm again, the news went back to being boring, and street lights stopped swaying. The destruction I had hoped for was never to be.

I guess that's what you get from a hurricane named Bob.