By Ann Farabee

If you knew immediately what the title referred to, you may have lived through it.

Hurricane Hugo arrived in North Carolina in the wee hours of the morning on Sept. 22, 1989. I know this because I was awake. Sleeping while the wind was roaring was impossible. It left me feeling as though my home was under attack and could be moved from its foundation at any second.

We were a typical family of four — mom, dad, seven-year-old daughter, and a four-year-old son. My husband and I heard the sounds outside before the kids did, so we headed toward the living room where we could see out the window. That is when the power went out. We stayed awake to make sure our roof stayed on the house, the glass stayed in the windows, and the house stayed on its foundation. We were soon joined by our seven-year-old, but our four-year-old slept through the night.

It was a long, loud night. The sounds from the hurricane were sounds I had never heard — and have not forgotten.The wind was not just blowing — it felt and sounded like a freight train barreling through our house. I was scared. I admit that more than once that night, I had thoughts of Dorothy and Toto as I envisioned — and almost felt — our house being lifted from its foundation.

We had a cock-a-poo that was not named Toto — but he was shaking in fear and pooping everywhere in the house the entire night. He refused to go outside. I don’t blame him.

The power was out for 11 days, and the food in the refrigerator spoiled. The phone service was out for two weeks.

But hey — we had each other, right?

At one point, we decided to get into the car and attempt to go somewhere to find something — like maybe some food. We took a right out of our neighborhood toward Kannapolis and almost immediately, we saw a very large tree blocking our road. We turned around and headed the opposite direction toward Concord. Almost immediately, there was a very large tree blocking the road. We went home.

Food was running a bit low, obviously, but it was amazing how valuable food out of a can is when one is hungry.

Week Two showed a few improvements. Some radio stations were back on air, and since we had a transistor radio and some batteries, we somewhat began to reconnect with the world.

School re-started before everyone’s power was back on, but it was for the best. Students felt a sense of normalcy and food was available for all. I greeted each of my students at the door with a hug. They hugged me back. We had been through something separately — but also together.

They were not my actual family, nor was I theirs. You sure would not have known it.

We were a family back together again. It was good to be home.

Remember Hurricane Hugo? I sure do.

Ann Farabee is a teacher, writer and speaker. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com.