September 16, 1999

My brother Joe and wife Carroll live near Charleston, South Carolina.

The memories of Hurricane Hugo are still fresh in his mind.

But even before the hurricane warnings were being broadcast, Joe and Carroll had already started preparing the house for the approach of Hurricane Floyd, the massive Cat 4-- almost Cat 5 storm that was already causing Florida residents to flee to higher ground.

When the evacuation order came, Joe and Carroll were ready with their two vehicles packed with their important personal effects. Their house is near the Atlantic on a small island near Charleston. They knew that if the worst of the storm hit their island, there was a good chance that their home would be no more. But in this circumstance it would be suicide to stay.

They joined the other 2 million people ordered to leave Charleston and tried to leave on State Route 78; heading west, away from the sea. But the roads were completely jammed. It was bumper to bumper for miles, as motorists competed for road. Some ran out of gas. Some suffered car breakdowns.

It took 5 hours to go only 25 miles. It was late at night. Carroll was tired, and they worried about running out of gas themselves. They knew that all of the hotels and inns were filled.

Joe decided that the two of them should pull over, get some needed sleep, and then keep driving at daybreak.

They got to St. George, a little town where State Route 78 meets Interstate 95. They pulled into a Texaco station along side other vehicles for safety. Joe got in the car with Carroll, and both hunkered down for a little shuteye.

Carroll has that remarkable ability to willfully sleep anywhere, anytime. Both my brother and I suffer from sleep apnea. (Well, they say, opposites do attract!). Somehow Joe just couldn't seem to fall asleep with all those car headlights from the highway flashing in his eyes.

Being former military, Joe "improvised, adapted, and overcame". He put a towel over his head, laid down to one side, and began to snooze.

Sometime around 3am, there was a rap at the window of the car on Carroll's side. A man was standing just outside the car door. The car windows were open about 6 inches to ventilate the car from the oppressive hurricane humidity.

Carroll was sound asleep, but awoke startled at the presence of a man in the dark, so close to her in the night.

"Ya gotta cigarette?" he asked. It was obvious he thought Carroll was alone in the car.

Carroll was too stunned to speak. Joe, however, removed the towel that covered his head and sat up.

"No," Joe said, "But I do have one of these...."

Joe carefully produced his Colt .45 so as to allow the man to notice that the business-end of the weapon delivered a non-verbal request for him to leave the area.

He left the area.

When daybreak came, Joe and Carroll made their way to the safety of a Motel6. They later returned home after the storm had passed.

This incident once again illustrates how every year 2.5 million Americans use a firearm to protect themselves and their families from aggression and the threat of crime.

Could it have happened to you?