"Florida Halloween," posted by All Things Emerald Coast:
Below, family friend, Teddy Fournier, starring in Disney's VERY adult evening show, Howl-o-Scream. (The Reale family visited the show this week. (Teddy was also the Christmas-Tree-on-Stilts" in last year's Macy Parade.) Teddy has the most exuberant personality of any person I've ever met.
TALE OF TWO DELUGES
Sunday, October 26, 2025, Seminole, Lake & Brevard County, Florida
Preface: Florida has really lucked out this year. No hurricanes. But last Sunday, while we're all keeping an eye on Melissa, the front that was "saving" Florida by pushing Melissa out into the Atlantic struck Central Florida an unexpected blow, now described as "a once in a thousand years event." Sunday began peacefully enough—partly cloudy, followed by rain that lasted all afternoon, rather than just a passing storm. A family dinner was planned, for which I had promised my "Everything But the Kitchen Sink" Salad. But . . .
I am a weather-freak, keeping a close watch on the local radar all through our rainy season, which was just winding down. On Sunday, more often than usual, as I definitely do not like to drive in the rain. Happily, the rain appeared to be clearing from the south, stopping completely just about the time I began putting the salad together. I had no sooner placed it in the trunk of the car than Susie called to ask if I was still coming, as several family members had backed out due to the rain. (She was in Mt Dora at the time, where it was still raining.) I told her it hadn't rained in Longwood for 45 minutes and assured her I was still on my way.
Dinner went well, followed by Susie demonstrating the power of AI, which she has been using to create the fossil-oriented T-shirts she is selling on her new website.* However, as I stepped out the door around 10:30 pm, I was startled to see the rain had NOT cleared. Although there was no rain where I was, the sky was lit up on all sides by lightning illuminating massive roiling dark clouds. A state that continued all the way home, our part of Seminole County wet from earlier rain but that was it. I had to turn on my wipers but only to clear condensation from the windscreen. [I did, however, heave a sigh of relief as I rolled into the garage, lightning still lighting the sky all around me (too far away for thunder).] BUT . . .
*To see Susie's very clever T-shirt designs (& other items), created with the help of AI, click here.
Being a newshound, I always start the day with the TV news accompanying my coffee. And that's when I learned what Seminole County escaped on Sunday night. My eyes popped as I saw a pic of a severely washed-out road—maybe 50 yards of destruction—a white Honda in the stream-bed on top of the chunks of concrete from the destroyed bridge. It took most of Monday for the whole story to unfold. Two bursts of rain (15-19" in a matter of hours) occurred c. 50 miles apart. One in Lake County, the other in Brevard County (home of the Space Coast). Roads and backyards washed out, homes flooded—the damage as bad as if a hurricane had swept through—except it was just in those two spots. (Estimated time of Mt Dora bridge replacement: one year.) All local TV channels reporting stories of flooded homes, homes now teetering on the edge of twenty-foot cliffs, pics of furniture, even refrigerators being carted out to the street. People kayaking down flooded streets . . .
The happy news—no one dead or even hurt. But wait! What about the driver of the white Honda? Gradually, over the course of Monday, the story was revealed.
The head waitress at a pizza place in Mt Dora was driving home when she was trapped on the bridge, the road crumbling in front of her. For some reason—probably pure shock—she didn't run for it, but instead texted her boss. He became the hero of the disaster, rushing to her aid, getting her out of the car before the entire bridge dropped, taking the Honda with it. He later told Ch. 9 news: "I don't think she realized how much danger she was in."
Sadly, even as both areas struggled to clean up, 21 homes in Eustis had to be evacuated on Thursday night. Aware that the bridge, the only access to their homes, had been badly damaged when Eustis got 19 inches on Sunday night, the evacuation was planned for Friday, but conditions worsened enough that residents were suddenly ordered to leave on Thursday night. (Although their homes were not in danger, the bridge was their only access, and neither they nor emergency vehicles would be able to get in or out if the bridge went.)
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| Main road into Mt Dora |
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| Clean-up Challenge (Thursday, 10/29/25) |
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| HOA Bridge to 21 homes in Eustis |
Moral of this tale: Climate change is creating more storms, more dangerous storms, more frequent storms, more freak storms. And I fear we are just going to have to adapt. (If the Powers That Be had only listened forty years ago . . . Sigh.)
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Signing off with Wicked Witch Riley . . .
Last-minute addition (Nov. 1, from Facebook):
For 50+ Blair Bancroft books, click here.
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