It was going to be great vacation.
I had my own little room, stacks of books to read, and we were a 100 yards from North Myrtle Beach. North, as in way north, away from the crowded, crazy tourist trap to the south. There were even some private ponds on the property where my nephews and I could do some fishing. Dad had rented a golf cart to run around. We were settling in.
Then a nasty woman by the name of Bonnie decided she wanted to spoil our party. Bonnie, as in HURRICANE Bonnie. And an evacuation, as in a GOVERNOR-ordered EMERGENCY evacuation. So much for vacation.
We did salvage some of it in Gatlinburg, but it wasn’t the beach.
That was 9 years ago.
And I hadn’t been back to the beach since.
Until this year.
The weather was perfect.
The beach was nice.
So was the ocean.
It was great to be with family.
The Outer Banks are wonderful this time of year.
And best of all I could choose when I was going to evacuate.
(Originally published on SlowMover October12,2007 – reprinted here as we recover from the most recent Bonnie)