How 3 days in a hurricane shelter changed my life

I am a healthy 75-year-old woman who leads a relatively insulated and complacent life in a country club development in Boca Raton. Because of Hurricane Irma, I found it necessary to spend three days and three nights in a shelter at our high school. I was one of at least 200 people hunkering down in the cafeteria, with hundreds more in the school’s auditorium and theatre. What I witnessed there altered many of my preconceived notions of those less fortunate than I.

Most of my “shelter-mates” were no strangers to adversity and seemed more prepared for it. Many came with big families, big inflatable beds, beach chairs, food and lots of snacks. They were worried, but hopeful, polite and caring. There was no TV or updates on the hurricane, but information was shared by those who still had internet access. There was no talk of politics or President Trump or Congress, but there was praise for FEMA, which supplied our minimum amount of food and the workers who tried their best to keep the shelter clean.

I felt compassion, helpfulness and love in the shelter. I witnessed lots of middle-aged sons and daughters taking care of their elderly parents. I met 2-week-old Isabella, who was born on the day of the eclipse, and a 4-week old Japanese baby who never cried. Then there was the Hispanic woman with her daughter and autistic son who came to the school after having “a bad feeling” about staying with her sister in a big house.That feeling was an omen — she later found out that the space she parked in while there and soon vacated was then crushed by a falling tree. As she told us the story, she kept looking upward and thanking the Lord. Then there was a young, pregnant Mexican woman with her husband and three young kids. She was scheduled for a cesarean in four days. We laughingly told her not to name the new baby girl after Irma.

There were problems, of course, and negative occurrences, but the volunteers and police took action. An elderly French lady who lost her grip on reality was escorted out late at night by local police, and a tattooed 30ish man who was high on drugs and kept bothering/ flirting with a nearby woman (until Manny, a protective, retired Florida Atlantic University official, reported him to shelter authorities) was escorted out the following afternoon.

I would be remiss in not praising the many high school volunteers who served food, were extremely helpful and even sang songs with the children one night. A special thank you to the pretty blonde woman with a boot on her leg who checked on us all while pushing a scooter supporting her leg. Amazing people!

I made new friends like Kathy and Nellie, and felt proud of myself that I was a help to others by listening and sharing. The shelter has changed me and I feel more open to those around me. I have grown. An experience that I feared morphed into one that expanded my view of life and all its people. Judith Zaroff is a resident of Boca Raton.