Hurricanes have always provoked a strange fascination in me. I remember being a kid living in West Virginia, watching the television in awe as hurricanes such as Katrina and Charley tore paths of destruction across the United States. I was amazed that a storm (unlike anything we would ever get in the mountainous West Virginia) could literally wipe cities off of the map.

When I moved to the Daytona Beach area in 2007, the mysterious nature of hurricanes started to become more real to me. I was now in Florida, a state that has a long history of having its coasts battered by the ripping winds and torrential downpours of hurricanes. To my surprise, however, my family and I came to Florida in a time when hurricanes seemed to be a terror of myth and legend. I heard from my friends how trees fell and houses flooded during Hurricane Charley, but I lacked any sort of personal engagement with these stories since I had not lived through a hurricane myself.

Years went by, and every hurricane season, a little part of me wanted to experience a hurricane in reality instead of vicariously through stories. I didn't want anything major, just a Category 1 or something that isn't catastrophic. This all changed this September when Tallahassee was hit by Hurricane Hermine. It was perfect; a Category 1 storm with just the right amount of power to provide me with an experience but not enough to cause widespread damage. At last, my hurricane craving was satisfied. Hermine was enough to instill in me a respectful fear of hurricanes, and I no longer desired to live through another.

Unfortunately, Mother Nature was not going to be kind enough to let me off this easy. Just about a month later, I checked the news reports to see Category 4 (at one point Category 5) Hurricane Matthew bee-lining to my home near Daytona Beach. This time, there was no awe or wonder; there was only fear and worry

With my family evacuated to Tampa, all I could do was monitor the storm on my laptop and pray that my home and friends who chose to stay would escape the deadly reach of the hurricane. I was watching the death toll in Haiti continue to rise in consequence to Hurricane Matthew, and while I acknowledge that Haiti is in a different situation than Daytona Beach, the thought of my hometown going through this was devastating.

Thankfully, everyone I knew was safe from the storm, and my house sustained minimal damage. While I will forever be thankful for this, I will never forget the fear that Daytona Beach would be the next Homestead or New Orleans. This fear, in my opinion, is what all must experience when witnessing their first truly cataclysmic hurricane. This change from a wondrous awe of hurricanes to a respectful fear is why I now consider myself to be a "True Floridian".