Birthdays, Holidays, and Hurricanes.

In 1979, Helen and I were planning an end of summer vacation to Pawleys Island, SC, a cozy little beach community that she visited with her parents from the time she was about six years old. I learned to love Pawleys Island while stationed at nearby Ft. Jackson, SC during my Army days. Although much has changed about Pawleys Island since those days, the best description I can give for the town at that time is that there was nothing to do there but relax, swim, work on our tan, and cook seafood.

We rented a small, two-bedroom house for that vacation and decided to ask our dear friends, John and Debbie if they would like to share the house with us. Neither of them had been to Pawleys before and this would be a great way to celebrate John’s 30^th birthday in the middle of the week. So, with our very young children parked at the grandparents, we took off for some fun in the sun, oblivious to Hurricane David roiling the Atlantic off to our south and moving in the direction of the South Carolina coast.

During the middle of the week, on John’s birthday, we were forced to evacuate the island.  Fortunately, we were smart enough to call ahead and obtain a reservation for the last room available in a Florence, SC motel. Fortunately because room seekers filled the lobby of the motel when we arrived and we could only smile at them as we worked our way through the crowd to pick up the last key from a frazzled desk clerk. We spent John’s birthday eating Kentucky Fried Chicken in a musty motel room while the winds of Hurricane David blew rainwater under our door.

That experience did nothing to discourage us from returning to Pawleys Island. For many years after that, we returned with our children and summer vacations at Pawleys became a tradition until the children gave us grandchildren and we could no longer find a house big enough to hold us. I treasure those days and still smile every time we tell the story of our that first trip.

Fast-forward forty years…

Our children are grown and scattered across the country. Helen and I spend much of our retirement traveling in our RV. John and Debbie, two hard-working professionals, remain beach lovers and now own a lovely vacation home in one of South Carolina’s premier beachside communities which they have shared with us many times. Our schedules and time with our families don’t allow us as much time to get together as we once did, but when they invited us down for Labor Day weekend, they didn’t have to ask twice. We would also celebrate John’s 70^th birthday.

The invitation was an opportunity to visit our son and his family in Charleston, and there is no way we can pass up time and hugs with our grandchildren. Coincidentally, our son would also celebrate a birthday this month and Helen teamed up with the girls to bake a cake for him. Charleston was experiencing King Tide at this time so, while the cake baked, we sat on the dock behind the house and watched the tide fill the marsh. The still water gave no clue that another hurricane was in our future.

We arrived at the resort on Friday before Labor Day. John and Debbie’s oldest son and his family joined us for the weekend.  John made reservations at the Royal Tern, a restaurant near Charleston operated by the son of a friend and fraternity brother of ours from college days. It turned out that our friend, Jack was in the restaurant that night and we were able to catch up over an awesome seafood dinner, topped off by an amazing 30-layer tiramisu that was almost too pretty to eat.

The next day, a clear sky remained overhead and we spent a delightful day at the beach and the pool. Hurricane warnings filled the news but we chose to ignore them, thinking that there was no way that history would repeat itself.

Nevertheless, you can’t mess with Mother Nature. After leaving the Bahamas, Hurricane Dorian turned westward and was predicted to parallel the east coast and cut short another vacation.

We weren’t deterred however from a birthday celebration that evening as we gathered at a local spot for an incredible seafood dinner that was as good as any I’ve ever had. At the end of our meal, a surprise dessert arrived for John and we had the pleasure of embarrassing him with a loud rendition of Happy Birthday to the delight of restaurant patrons. Our meal contrasted sharply with the Kentucky Fried Chicken of forty years ago, and gave us one more good laugh.

Sunday, a looming hurricane gave us a rainy day on the coast.  We helped John and Debbie pack a few things away for safekeeping and said our goodbyes.  The South Carolina governor had converted all of the interstate lanes away from the coast and there was a rush to evacuate. We joined the long line of Labor Day traffic and sped away with no regrets.  Not even another hurricane can spoil friendship and fun.

We’re blessed and we’re still Easin’ Along.