Lucky or unlucky?

All depends how you look at it

Our street - closed off. I’ll get to why in a minute.

Last week while we were on vacation in Lake Chautauqua, the most destructive storm system to hit Northeast Ohio since 1993 carved a path so catastrophic the governor declared a state of emergency. This isn’t Florida, where states of emergency are declared so frequently that it’s reasonable to wonder if the entirety of the state is populated with rebuilding fetishists. “I know the hurricane destroyed every house for 60 miles, and the town will be under sea level for six months, and the power grid has been decimated, and some of the bolder reptiles have absconded with several local children, and the county government has been replaced by masked highwaymen, but we will rebuild.”

One of the things that makes Ohio a great place to live is that yes, we do have weather, but that weather tends to be predictable, and it falls more within the range of annoying than it does deadly. Snow is annoying. Thunderstorms are annoying. Modern technologies like all-weather tires and going inside a building mitigate existential risk.

The exceptions are tornadoes, which until the last few years were scary and occasionally deadly but are nothing like what you see in Tornado Alley. Our tornado numbers in Ohio are now rising. This year, the state has already experienced a record number of tornadoes, and we’re only two weeks into August. 

In total, according to the National Weather Service, four tornadoes hit Northeast Ohio on August 6, and they tore down trees that crushed houses, cars and garages, snapped utility poles, ripped down power lines and left 400,000 customers without power. In addition to the tornadoes, which wound through many of our highly populated suburbs, three counties on our east side were walloped by a macroburst. 

Yes, a macroburst.

That meteorological terminology may be unfamiliar to you, so I will explain. 

A macroburst is a burst that is larger than a microburst. 

You’re welcome.

Fine.

A macroburst is a convective downdraft with an affected outflow area of at least 2.5 miles wide and peak winds lasting between 5 and 20 minutes. Intense macrobursts may cause tornado-force damage of up to F3 intensity. Our macroburst was 15 miles wide and 15 miles long, and it lasted 30 minutes, with wind topping out at 90 mph winds, which is like an EF1 tornado. (EF0 is the lowest and EF5 is the highest.) This macroburst came off Lake Erie and smashed right into our house, tearing the shingles off our roof in two places.

We found out minutes after this happened when a neighbor texted us photos of what used to be a roof that was in one solid piece but no more.

Which brings me to the point of why I am writing this – I have been thinking a lot about this question – were we lucky or unlucky? Consider this an extension of my “attitude is everything” theorizing.

So.

Lucky or unlucky?

You could say we were unlucky because a gust of wind hit our house at such velocity that a super major important house system (the roof - important for keeping out rain and birds) lost its integrity. 

You could say we were lucky because the roof was never punctured, and our interior stayed dry.

You could say we were unlucky because as far as we know none of our other neighbors were macrodeshingled (which is a deshingling more intense than microdeshingling). 

You could say we were lucky because our neighbor texted us photos right away, and we were able to arrange for the roofer to tarp up the roof first thing the very next morning.

You could say we were unlucky because we were caught totally out of position while on vacation.

You could say we were lucky because we spent that night in a vacation rental that had power and hot water, which our home suddenly lacked.

You could say we were unlucky because the destruction killed our vacation vibes.

You could say we were lucky because being on vacation meant my wife (who works from home as a coach and writer) and our dog (who works from home as a dog) were not in the house when this nightmarish weather scared our neighbors into the basement … AND more importantly my in-laws were not driving our kids home from camp, when they normally would have been, as the storm hit.

You could say we were unlucky because we now have to deal with insurance people.

You could say we were lucky because we might get a new roof paid for – or at a discounted rate.

You could say we were unlucky because a power line snapped right in front of our house.

You could say we were lucky because if either of us had been home we would not have been able to get our vehicles out of the driveway for a while.

You could say we were unlucky because we didn’t have power for four days, and we had to leave home and stay with my parents. 

You could say we were lucky because the kids love staying with grandma and grandpa, who took us in, and we all made the best of it with dinners and Legos and playing outside and movies.

I say: Lucky.

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