Could've Been Worse? Nags Head Nor'easter

Before last week's Nor'easter, there were steps from Katherine and Larry's deck to the beach.

Growing up in the Midwest, I’d never ever heard the word “Nor’easter” before. But then in 1997 we moved to the Outer Banks of North Carolina, and I found out firsthand how destructive a November storm like that can be.

We lived at the ocean for two years, and every morning I’d take my Seeing Eye dog Dora out for a short walk on the beach while Mike got Gus off to the school bus. We’d meet in the kitchen then, grab a cup of coffee and bring it outside to enjoy at the top of the steps to the beach.

One particularly stormy morning, though, I knew we wouldn’t be meeting for coffee. There’d been no news of a hurricane, not even a tropical storm, but the rain seemed to be pelting down sideways. In buckets. “Hup up, Dora! C’mon, Dora!” I hurried Dora down the wooden walkway to the beach. “Hup up! Let’s go!” She did rush, but still remembered to stop at the top of the stairway. And I remembered to praise her. “Good girl,” I said, tapping the top stair with my foot to reinforce the notion that a step down is worth stopping for. Even when the rain is pelting down, and the winds seem to be rushing at 60 mph, she has to stop. “Good girl, Dora,” I repeated, then gave her the “forward” command. She didn’t budge.

“Dora, forward!” I commanded again. She wouldn’t go. I started getting mad. The rain was cold, and though we’d only been out for a minute or two, I was already soaked. the wind rushed at us, determined to knock us over. “DORA!” I yelled at her. “Forward!” I was so mad, I took a step forward myself just to show her what I meant.

It felt like Dora and I were suspended mid-air for a long time. I learned later from Mike that it was at least a six-foot drop. I had no idea how we’d ended up free-falling that way, but I was glad Dora had come along for the ride. After we hit ground, I turned my head right and left, trying to assess what had happened. I couldn’t see, of course, but looking around like that is just old habit. It took a few seconds, but I did work it out. There were no stairs. They were gone. And so was Dora. I’d lost her leash in the fall.

”Dora, come!” I screamed into the wind, hoping that somehow she’d hear me. She did. She came and stood. Right by my side. I crouched down to feel her, clutching the leash now so that we couldn’t be separated again, asking her over and over if she was okay. “I’m so sorry, Dora,” I repeated, shouting to be heard over the wind. “You were right.” I told her she was a good girl, trying to reassure her we’d be alright.

But would we? The Nor’easter had washed the stairs completely away; we’d have to climb the dune to get back to the house. Waves were creeping in at our feet, which should have been scary, I guess. I found them reassuring, though. They gave me a clue of which direction to go next. Turning my back to the sound and feel of the water, I picked up the harness and commanded, “Dora, forward!” She led me as far as she could on foot. Eventually I had to get on all fours, like her. We crawled up the dune together, side by side.

Once up the dune, Dora helped me find what was left of the walkway and we headed back to the house. I might have felt heroic, if I hadn’t been so ashamed. You see, when I stepped off that top step ahead of Dora, I’d broken one of the Seeing Eye’s cardinal rules: never get ahead of your dog. I’d put Dora and me in real danger, and I didn’t want to admit my mistake to Mike.

And so, I walked in, took Dora’s harness off, and hung it on its hook, just like normal. I might have gotten away with it, if it hadn’t been for the long hooded coat I was wearing. The coat was made of wool and was covered, head to foot, in sand.

Who woulda’ thought something that doesn’t even qualify as a tropical storm could cause so much havoc? Tropical storms, hurricanes and nor’easters all produce buckets of horizontal rain and high winds, but tropical storms and hurricanes usually come and go quickly. Nor’easters can hang around for days.

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Two of our best friends from our Outer Banks days visited us here last weekend. Katherine had visited us in Chicago before, but it was Larry’s first time here. We caught up over cocktails, enjoyed a delicious meal together and even took a long walk along Lake Michigan, the weather was so unusually beautiful in Chicago that weekend.

That's Larry and Katherine, our dear friends who live on the Outer Banks, during their visit to Chicago the first week of November. We're trying to persuade them to move here for the weather.:)

Unfortunately that was not the case when Katherine and Larry returned home. They got back to their oceanfront house in Kill Devil Hills just days before a Nor’easter hit the coast. This from a blog called Seaside Vacations:

The November Nor’easter is sticking around on the Outer Banks. The storm (really two systems; a high and a low pressure system, the low being the real “Nor’easter” and the remnants of Ida) set in late Wednesday and is very reluctant to release its grip on the OBX.

The wind and rough surf have been relentless. Due to the large waves and higher tides than normal, the beach no longer serves as a boundary for the ocean; water and debris have flowed onto the streets in many areas.

Katherine wrote to assure us they were alright, and in that Outer Banks spirit, the subject line in her email was, “Could’ve Been Worse.” You can see for yourself from the photos – they lost their steps, just like Mike and I did a decade ago. I’m afraid it may be a while before Katherine and I enjoy a glass of wine on her deck like we did last September.