A memory almost 32 years old...
I came across this news article from 2010 and it brought back some memories!
BY CATHERINE KOZAK A hard nor’easter was pounding the Outer Banks as Mickey Baker and Carmie Prete hustled home to Ocracoke Island that Oct
In my youth, my parents used to take my younger brother and I to Cape Hatteras, NC for summer vacations. They'd rent a beach house, stay for a week or two and then make the long drive back to Northern Virginia or Maryland.
One year, my parents discovered that it would be cheaper to rent a beach house in the off-peak season (Fall), so they switched to booking later in the year. This obviously worked out great for my brother and I too, as we'd get two weeks off of school to go to the beach, much to the envy of our friends. It was during one such vacation that my family had a unique experience of surviving a powerful Nor'easter that knocked the power out during the night, but waking up the next morning to find out that we were stranded on the island! The only bridge on and off of the island was struck during the night and broken.
So, we packed up my Dad's International pickup with a Leer slide-in camper, packed my Mom's Dodge Spirit and joined a line of cars that had by that point, stretched 17 miles from Avon to the Hatteras Inlet ferry dock. It took a total of three days of waiting in line to get off one island (Hatteras), to sit in another traffic line across another island (Ocracoke) until we got onto the third and final ferry to the Mainland (Swan Quarter). It was quite the adventure for my younger brother and I. Remember, we'd already had two weeks off of school and the stranding on the islands had given us extra days! We had our bicycles and games to keep us occupied. The camper had beds for the four of us, water, power, fridge, toilet, microwave and most importantly, a coffeepot. Coast Guard brought sandwich supplies, coffee and filters, water, etc and the camper became a mobile kitchen! The neighbors in line could get food and coffee. It was the community hub of our stretch of the line. We were having such a great time, despite the circumstances. …Then my younger brother went missing in the endlessly long line of cars. He and I had been riding bicycles and I had stopped at a port-o-potty and the little shit kept on going without me. I tried to find him by myself for a while, but eventually had to come back to our place in the line and regretfully inform my parents that he'd gone off without me and was lost. Police and Coast Guard were called, my Mom lost her mind, my Dad blamed me. An hour or so later, a policeman pulls up next to us with my brother's bicycle sticking out of the trunk of his patrol car (Another scream from Mom). Little shit was scrunched down in the back seat because he knew his ass was in trouble. After that, we were not allowed to ride up and down the line of cars anymore and were relegated to the camper. We eventually made it back to the Mainland. My Mom demanded a night in a hotel room for a much-needed shower and Dad agreed. They both got in touch with their respective jobs (Remember no cellphones!?) and let them know what had happened and life went on. But I'll never forget the experience. I never made fun of Dad's funky 70's camper again either.
