When I think back on all the years I’ve spent living in the south, living with the threat of hurricanes has been very much like living with the threat of rattlesnakes or black widow spiders: you know they’re there, you know they’re dangerous, and you just hope you don’t run into any of them face-to-face — especially in a situation you aren’t prepared for.

Inevitably though, even though none of the above are what you could consider a regular part of your life, you still know in the back of your mind there’s a better than good chance you are going to encounter them at some point along the line. Knowing that much, all you can do is be as prepared as you can be, keep your head on straight, and also know what to do when faced with the danger that comes with them.

Based on experience with Hurricane Kate back in 1985, I’ve known now for over 30 years that a category 4 or 5 hurricane is something none of us wants to see in our hometown. For those of us living in Thomasville during that time, our fair city and county ended up looking more like a war zone than a picturesque Southern town before it was over.

That storm, which hit in late November of that year, instilled in me a respect for the power of nature that has not faded one speck in the interim. I remember going Christmas shopping as Kate approached the Florida coast, with all indications it was going to miss us with some potential rain and wind expected. The experts said they “knew” where she was going, so, I mean, nothing to worry about — right?

At some point in the afternoon, being without smart phones, the Internet, and everything else we have today to make us instantly plugged in with every single thing happening anywhere, the storm turned abruptly and made a beeline straight toward us.

Without warning, the doors of the store we were shopping in blew wide open. I will never forget seeing the “ghost of Christmas past” display in the store virtually come to life as the winds of the hurricane lifted it up and flew it through the store.

Kate came to Thomasville as a category 2 hurricane with winds pushing just over 100 miles per hour. With that said, it definitely packed enough punch to teach me and everyone who was here during it that big monster storms are nothing to be trifled with.

Make no mistake — Kate was a strong-enough-to-definitely-get-your-attention storm, but it was no monster. The storm we’re monitoring now, Irma, is in fact a monster unlike anything ever witnessed on this side of the planet in recorded history, with peak winds topping 185 mph — almost twice the velocity of Kate.

I know what you’re thinking, because the thought has crossed my mind as well — “eh, it couldn’t be that bad…I’d ride it out.” And for what? To prove to everyone else you’re willing to play with that rattlesnake and not get bit? 

As all of us have sat the last few days watching Hurricane Irma churn in the Atlantic, trying to figure out where it was going to go, another thought has crossed all of our minds: “what do we do if it comes this way?”

Well, I am here to tell you what to do: you grab the stuff you really need, pack up your family, go somewhere the storm ain’t.

I’ve often thought of people in situations like wildfires or monster storms bearing down on them who have no choice but to evacuate. What “things” are so important that they can’t be left behind? 

In reality, there is nothing material on this planet worth risking your life over — nothing. To quote a song, “you possess your possessions or they possess you.”

Stuff can be replaced — people can’t.

As this is being written, the latest projections have Irma moving back across Florida sometime this weekend and skirting up the east coast of the state. If that is the case, then once again we will have avoided the worst of it. While that’s good news for us, it’s still going to be bad news for someone else — and even quite likely for some good people who will be evacuating to our area to escape the worst of the storm.

And that’s one of the things I hate the most about these situations. You don’t want the monster coming come into your neighborhood, but at the same time you almost feel guilty hoping it will go somewhere else — because you know in doing so inevitably someone else will get the brunt of it.

There just isn’t a good scenario to play out when you are talking a 400-something-mile wide beast of wind, weather, and destruction.

So yes, be watchful, mindful, and prayerful. But while you do, know that those of us who remember Kate also remember she sent a very strong message to all of us that sometimes the best computer models on the earth can’t predict what will happen.

Smart phones/internet/etc. or not, we all need to keep that in mind.