It was a unique experience encountering the National Guard on Captiva Island when we reentered on Thursday, August 19, 2004, six days after Hurricane Charley hit the island.
If I recall correctly, for the first few days or so there was a dusk to dawn curfew from 7 PM – 7 AM, probably as a preventative measure against potential looting or theft.
I remember that it was unbelievably hot at night in the house with no air-conditioning and no air movement at all. I couldn’t sleep.
Africa in the heart of the jungle couldn’t have been this oppressive. And the oder from the refrigerator, even though I had cleaned it with extraordinarily obsessiveness with bleach was overwhelming. I had to escape.
Disregarding the curfew, I decided I couldn’t take it any longer, if they shot me they shot me; I had to get outside on Friday morning, August 20.
So I went outside and walked up the road to the Captiva Fire Station which was the main operations base for the National Guard.
A very kind officer assured me that he wouldn’t shoot me, offered me some cold bottled water and we had a nice early morning chat.
