I grew up on Pensacola Beach, Florida.
It took two houses destroyed via hurricanes before my dad finally gave up and moved to the inland. Nonetheless, the island is where my DH and I lovingly call home. We visit several times a month, even forgoing our own Mobile beaches and driving the hour up to the ones we grew up on.
(oyster beds being protected in Pensacola)
Both of our families live there.
Both work there.
Its devastating to comprehend what this could do to the livelihoods of so many and in an economy of nearly nothing, its pushing people to the brink. Everywhere we went today there were whispers and stories and rumors…no one knew what to say or what to do, but it’s all on everyone’s mind.
Not if, but when.
It’s like waiting for a hurricane to make landfall.
Just waiting and wondering and praying and hoping. Pensacola Beach held a prayer vigil tonight on the beach hoping God hears her desperate prayers.
(today on the beach…rough waves)
And if it wasnt enough to sit and wait, the beaches were red flagged for dangerous marine life and huge seas. We could all sit…and watch.
But no one, save for the surfers, could enjoy the first, and last, beautiful days of summer in the Gulf of Mexico’s waters.
I think this sentiment from a resident just about sums it up for everyone in America: