Calm during the storm



In the Atlantic Ocean, another hurricane, this one named Ivan, suddenly detonated into a Category 3 storm.
COMBINED DISPATCHES
WEST MELBOURNE, Fla. -- Living in the tight, tense atmosphere of a hurricane shelter "brings out the best and worst in people," says Kerri Nash.
As principal of Meadowlane Elementary School here, Nash, 44, is also a designated storm shelter manager. She -- along with a cadre of volunteers -- has retooled her school into a full-service harbor for the duration of the large and long-lasting Hurricane Frances.
The shelter opened Friday morning and filled in a few hours. By Sunday the nearly 700 people who have taken refuge here knew each other rather well, Nash said. The cafeteria is full -- so are most of the classrooms.
"When some of my loved ones ask me why I do this," said Nash, who has overseen three previous hurricane shelters, "I say, 'Who's going to do it if I don't?' It's very fulfilling."
Most people who've sought sanctuary at the school are from the Brevard County area, Nash says. Or maybe they are motorists stranded on Interstate 95 without gasoline or were evicted from unsafe motels. Or they just had no place else to go.
"Some people came here with nothing. No food, no blankets, nothing," Nash said.
Extra help
When the electricity went out in the wee hours of Sunday, Nash made sure Ron Murphy, 47, the Red Cross volunteer, could start the school's backup generator. The automatic switch didn't work, so Murphy, a burly mustachioed guy, fought the fierce night winds to fire it up manually.
Nash carries a walkie-talkie as she dashes through gusting winds and rain from her office to the cafeteria to check on everyone.
The cafeteria -- accommodating 180 people -- has air mattresses and sleeping bags strewn everywhere. Lots of people sit at the cafeteria tables -- some reading, others talking, still others staring at the walls.
So far Nash has had to deal with a man in a diabetic coma and a pregnant woman who is six days overdue. She made sure both were put in touch with the three registered nurses who happen to be staying here.
Many teachers have volunteered to help -- so have Nash's husband, Gary, and 15-year-old son, Jared. They serve meals to the residents three times a day.
Nash has supplies to last until midday today, but is low on drinking water and bread. She is out of milk. At one point, Nash pulls the brown clip from her blond hair, brushes it several times, puts the clip back and goes back to work. On three hours of sleep, she still has the energy of the committed.
Ready to leave
As the storm eases in early afternoon, news of damaged homes and fallen trees filters into the shelter. Residents begin to leave, despite warnings from Nash and other officials. On battery-powered radios, police spokesmen tell citizens to stay off the roads. There are tornado warnings.
"There's not much we can do if they want to go," Nash told Murphy. "Just stand at the front gate and take down their names and next of kin."
By late afternoon Sunday, Frances had been downgraded to a tropical storm, with maximum winds near 70 mph and its center about 20 miles east of Tampa. The storm, which was crawling west-northwest at 10 mph, could regain hurricane strength over the Gulf of Mexico before renewing its plodding assault on the Florida Panhandle.
Over 13 inches of rain fell along Florida's central east coast, flooding some areas 4 feet deep, as a weakened Frances edged across the state toward Tampa and the Gulf of Mexico. In its wake, trees and power lines were leveled, broken traffic lights dangled and beach-front roads were littered with coconuts, avocados and tree limbs.
More than 5 million people lost power.
The storm was blamed for at least one death in Florida after a man was killed when his car hit a tree near Gainesville, and two earlier deaths in the Bahamas, where thousands were forced from their homes.
Officials respond
Gov. Jeb Bush and 20 state and federal emergency officials surveyed damage Sunday as they flew from Tallahassee to West Palm Beach, but the governor said it was too early to assess the extent of the devastation.
Officials warned that the aftermath could pose even greater risks. "There are still dangers on our streets where the hurricane passed," Jeb Bush said. "Please be patient."
President Bush talked to his brother Sunday afternoon to assure Floridians that federal resources were in place to help respond, a White House spokesman said.
Some 8,000 members of the National Guard were assigned to recovery efforts. Suspected looters were arrested in Palm Beach, Orange and Indian River counties.
Initial reports of destruction did not rival the estimated $7.4 billion in insured damage caused by Hurricane Charley in southwest Florida three weeks ago. Frances' path overlapped with some of the area hit by Charley, which killed 27 people.
Another hurricane
Meanwhile, another storm is out there, and it suddenly detonated into a major hurricane Sunday in the distant Atlantic Ocean.
First stop on Hurricane Ivan's itinerary: the outer rim of the Caribbean islands, probably Tuesday. Next stop: the Dominican Republic and Haiti, probably Thursday. The stop after that: Who knows?
Already fatigued by an unusually active burst of hurricane activity, forecasters expressed surprise and some alarm Sunday over Ivan's projected path and rapid intensification. It was expected to smash into the Dominican Republic and Haiti as an intense Category 3 storm.
They said hurricane hunter crews would fly into Ivan tonight, gathering information that will help determine what -- if any -- threat it could pose to Florida and the rest of the mainland.