I just watched a drone level video of the area of the Outer Banks island that was the landfall for the center of Isaias early this morning...or maybe last night.
I'm glad I had a pill that helped me go to sleep last night, while thinking of how my son and his wife and children had driven from their home in Ohio to the Outer Banks of North Carolina this last weekend. Just in time for a hurricane.
I haven't spoken to them. I just saw a couple of posts on Facebook that that's where they went, at this particular time. It's a good thing I didn't speak with them, because I would have blown my top. As it was, my anxiety level was right off the roof. And fortunately none of the roofs were blown off literally.
I remember how long it took to repair the one road which was the only route to towns around Orakoke...after another hurricane.
Here's the video, where you can see all the sand that was washed up with the storm surge at Oak Island. And the cars just swished any which way, as well as washing machines...moved by waves of the Atlantic Ocean.
https://www.youtube.com/watch
I hope the three grandchildren enjoyed the beach. I am so grateful that they were alright. I really don't know what I'll say to my son when I finally speak with him. It's going to take some alcohol probably to help me get through that conversation.
Then a friend of mine said she included this adventure on her bucket list, to go to the beach during a hurricane. Oh dear. I'm a bit amazed that people would risk their lives for this kind of terrible thrill...or is it just seeking horror? Thrill by the terrible destructive force of nature...geese, no thanks.
