By Times staff writers
Published September 5, 2004
Sporadic power outages accompanied the rain and wind squalls as the outer bands of Hurricane Frances passed through Pasco County midday Sunday. Some people chose to ride out the storm at home - in neighborhoods where fallen trees and downed power wires were fairly common sites. Others filled the shelters across Pasco.
And the worst of the storm had yet to reach the county.
Scenes from around the county:
Zephyrhills
Power blinked off at Zephyrhills High School, the city's only shelter, about 10 a.m. Sunday. About 1,300 people -- many of them elderly mobile home residents -- are packed into the school. One wing is reserved for people with special needs. Despite the school's official capacity of 3,600, conditions are growing cramped. Throughout the morning, people slept, or tried to sleep, on air mattresses and lawn chairs. Some played cards and watched televisions tuned to weather reports. A steady flow of people passed through the glass doors to smoke outside.
But when the crowded main corridor went dark, children became excited. Old folks wanted to know why the generators didn't keep the lights on.
The special needs unit was taken care of, with light and air conditioning.
Cypress Creek area
One trouble spot is the homes along Cypress Creek as it cross SR 54. At 61/2 feet, the creek is was well shy of flood stage, but if the worst of Frances' heavy rain materialized, homes perched above its bank in Land O'Lakes faced flooding.
Park Lake Estates, New Port Richey
John Wildermuth, 59, sat on the bumper of a car inside his garage and watched the oak trees across the street. Each passing wind gust seemed to push the trees closer to the brink. "It makes you wonder why did I move to Florida?" Wildermuth said. "Just the thought of the roof coming off scares me." He did not sleep at all Saturday night, spending the long, uncertain hours alternating between the news channels and movies.
Gulf Harbors
Rob Sosnowski, a 40-year-old computer programmer, arrived in Pasco on Thursday with his wife and two daughters after fleeing West Palm Beach. "We thought it would blow through in 12 hours, but now we don't know when we'll drive back. (Frances) is moving so slow. It's going to cause a mess. Just a mess."
Lincoln Street, New Port Richey
Aaaron Gullery, 30, sat down at the computer about 10 a.m. to backup files for his Internet-based company when he heard a loud bang. Then the power went out. Gullery went outside and saw a tree covering his Mitsubishi Eclipse. The tree took the top corner of his apartment, too. A live power line lay on the ground. Gullery kept a safe distance and an easy spirit. "It's nature," he said. "This is why we have insurance."
Meadow Pointe
Street signs and newly planted trees were the early casaulties shortly after 11 a.m. Wooden supports weren't enough to keep decorative shrubs in the ground. Many bent and tumbled in the wind. Wobbly street signs broke loose, including one on Bent Tree Drive. As Frances' eye approached, the fully staffed fire station was calm. Firefighters watched the horizontal pelting ran from their engine bay.
Trinity: Staying at "the Hilton'
Mobile home residents started seeking shelter at Trinity Elementary on Saturday following mandatory evacuation orders. By Sunday morning about 260 people were settling into classrooms as school administrators and the Red Cross converted the building into a makeshift community center. "We're staying at the Hilton," joked Irene Carstens, 70, as she sat in the cafeteria beside her husband, Eugene, 75. It is the second time in a month the group has sought shelter at the school because of a hurricane.
Land O'Lakes
More than 100 people hunkered down in a wing of Pine View Elementary School. Most were evacuees from mobile homes considered to flimsy to stand up to Frances. Dominoes clicked, cards flipped, TVs glowed, and toddlers toddled. Pine View's reputation for structural soundness - it opened just last year - brought Beverly Rumsey and her family from Hillsborough County. When the wind ripped a limb from a tree near their modular home near Livingston Avenue they knew it was time to leave.
