Picture this. A hurricane churns in the Gulf of Mexico. For the first time in decades, Tampa is destined for a direct hit.
People shift into survival mode, boarding up homes and businesses and stocking up on supplies. Then they plot their escape.
Good luck if you live on the south end of town. South Tampa floods after a 10-minute cloudburst, and I can't imagine how the area would hold up if the big one strikes.
I suspect it wouldn't. The entire Tampa peninsula falls within the evacuation zone.
In other words, a doozy of a storm could flatten the area, smashing the balustrade along Bayshore Boulevard with one wave and making most homes a teardown. Better have insurance - and a rowboat.
As we enter another hurricane season, all of us south-of-Kennedy folks could find ourselves in unchartered territory. The nearest public shelters are at Memorial Middle School on N Central Avenue and Orange Grove Magnet School on N 16th Street.
If I had to get to either in a hurry, I'd be woefully late. I've never heard of these places and would have to study a map.
Luckily, I have friends in high places: New Tampa and Carrollwood. If you don't, find some. The shelters aren't exactly the Hilton and they don't take pets.
Just getting there would be a feat. Evacuation maps show Dale Mabry Highway and the Lee Roy Selmon Crosstown Expressway as the main tickets out of town. Scary.
DALE MABRY CLOGS on an ordinary Monday afternoon when the sun's shining and the palm trees are still. Try funneling thousands of cars north in the wind and rain and I see an endless ribbon of red brake lights.
If I sound panicky, I am. I came here from California, where earthquakes wield their might.
Frankly, given the choice, I'd take a 'quake over a 'cane. Earthquakes come and go in seconds, usually unannounced. (Isn't ignorance bliss?) And there's no such thing as an annual earthquake season.
I've seen hurricanes up close and ugly. While living in Puerto Rico, I was constantly dodging depressions, surges and storms. I remember lawmakers standing on the Capitol steps praying for mercy as one loomed in the Caribbean. I remember going to grocery stores with their shelves picked clean of bottled water, canned goods and batteries.
You'd think I'd be prepared. But, pathetically, I'm not. I prefer to keep rolling the dice. It won't be this year.
My 2003 hurricane guide from the newspaper sat untouched for days on my coffee table. I'll get to it sometime, I told myself. Yeah, just like I'll put together a disaster supply kit.
This week, 1,800 people from across Florida came to the Tampa Convention Center for the annual Governor's Hurricane Conference. They wanted to share tips about protecting the public and preparing for a worse-case scenario. They compared the efforts to post-Sept. 11.
This year's theme: "Protecting the Homeland from Hurricanes: An All-Hazards Approach."
I just hope the sky stays blue while they're in town. They'd never get home in a hurricane.
