Today is Labor Day in America — the symbolic end of summer. (Don’t ask me what happened to July and August, they are lost in the Great American Haze.)
When my wife was well we might share a barbecue with family or friends on Labor Day. When she wasn’t well enough to go out she would cook up some ribs at home. When she could no longer cook I would get take-out from the local Smoke Haus.
I was going to write about that today, about being without my wife on this holiday, but my selfish concerns have no place here now.
Today it rained in New York, and 1,011 air miles (1,626 kilometers) to the south, bodies were floating in the Bahamas as Hurricane Dorian rolled toward Florida.
My wife and I were living in Miami Beach when Hurricane Andrew hit in 1992, leaving 65 people dead and nuclear bomb like destruction. We were lucky to escape ourselves.
So today, in the rain here, and the lashing, killer hurricane there, I think of people in the storm.
Photos: Daily Mail
One thought on “People in the storm”
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