Suburban transplants in Irma's path fear the unknown
For two suburban natives living at different points along Hurricane Irma's path, the most terrifying part of their experiences has been the moments of uncertainty.
Hiding for hours in a room with no windows as the eye of a catastrophic storm passes. Fearing the destruction they'd find once they emerged from their shelters. And even in the aftermath, not knowing the full scope of the damage or how long it'll take to return to normal.
As the storm barreled through Naples, Florida, on Sunday afternoon, Stephanie Miller and her family hid in the closet of her aunt's house, which was farther from the mandatory evacuation zone than their own home. When they were finally able to step outside hours later, she said, streets were flooded with several inches of water, trees had been uprooted or broken in half, and screens and roof tiles were torn off homes.
"I didn't know it would have this much upheaval or cause this much damage," Miller said, noting they wouldn't be able to return to their own home for at least another day. "The single scariest thing is not knowing the condition of our house."
Miller grew up in the Rolling Meadows area and lived in Gurnee before moving to Florida about 15 years ago. Though she's been through other significant hurricanes, none were of Irma's size and magnitude, nor did they ever hit her area directly.
For St. Charles native Jake Thornton, hurricanes never crossed his mind when he moved to St. Thomas a year ago, especially because it had been decades since the island was last hit with a destructive storm. So when the threat of Irma loomed, he and his fiancee, Corinne Schmitt, stocked up on supplies, but they remained hopeful the storm would veer in a different direction.
Days later, Thornton said, they found themselves hunkering down in a bathroom as gusts of wind rattled the walls around them. As the hurricane swept through St. Thomas on Wednesday, he said, power lines were knocked down, trees and shrubbery were ripped from the ground and roofs were blown off buildings.
"The island is devastated," he said. "Knowing what I know now, I'm completely terrified of hurricanes."
Thornton and Schmitt, a Geneva native, are among the lucky few on the island who are able to access power using a generator. They went days without cell phone service and were unable to contact their families. Residents have had to wait in line for hours to get gas or to get into the grocery store.
The damage also shut down the airport, leaving Thornton and Schmitt searching for a way to get back to the Chicago area, where they plan to stay until while they figure out their next steps. Though they'd like to move back, it could be months before any sense of normalcy is restored in St. Thomas, he said.
"As of now, there are a lot of 'ifs,'" Thornton said. "We've learned very quickly that planning life out doesn't really go too far."
As the hurricane continued along the west coast of Florida on Sunday, a similar uncertainty remains for Naperville native Jill McGarry, who now lives just south of Tampa in the Sarasota area. She and her family spent days preparing for the worst, and they planned to camp out overnight in a walk-in closet - the only room in their house that doesn't have any windows.
Because they have two young children, McGarry and her husband are doing their best to hide their fear of the storm's aftermath.
"But it's pretty frightening," she said. "It's scary and sad to think about what could happen to the absolute paradise where we live."