The 2024 Atlantic hurricane season was predicted to be active, and active it has been. Record-breaking warm waters in the Gulf of Mexico fueled powerful hurricanes that have left communities in waterlogged shambles and lives in pieces, washed away by storm surge and flash flooding. Beryl’s formation and impact in early July was already unusual. While not unheard of, a named storm causing such destruction so early in the season felt like an omen.

The true toll of Helene is still unknown; reports are contradictory as rescue and recovery efforts overlap in the midst of catastrophic destruction. Asheville, as well as other inland mountain communities in western North Carolina, experienced largely unprecedented flooding, devastating communities and livelihoods with floodwaters reaching rooftops in places where residents had no idea they were in harm’s way – it was inconceivable. The “Big Bend” region of Florida emerged battered, bruised, and waterlogged. Many across the southeastern United States lost everything, up to and sometimes including their lives.

Well before any directly impacted areas could make real progress in recovery, Milton emerged from the Gulf. It formed suddenly, its rapid intensification alarming meteorologists and at-risk communities. As Milton crept through the Gulf, atmospheric conditions and warm waters enabled a frightening 12-hour jump from Category 1 to 5.

Senator Marco Rubio (R) remarked on X that Milton posed the worst-case scenario for Florida, and he was right. What’s wrong is his track record of climate change denial, voting against measures that would help curb emissions that contribute to climate change and increase FEMA funding to better help impacted communities. Instead, FEMA is stretched desperately thin between Helene and Milton, and the waters are only getting warmer. While no single storm can be attributed solely to climate change, the patterns of increasingly frequent and severe storms come with a heavy human and economic cost. As the planet takes on more heat, the impacts on atmospheric conditions set the stage for extreme weather events to occur more frequently and in historically uncommon areas.

Before Milton had made proper landfall, tornadoes arrived on both coasts. Due to Florida’s high water table, basements and underground shelters are nowhere to be found and out of the question. October 9 marked the second-highest number of tornado warnings issued in a single calendar day with 126 issued. Some of the tornadoes were alarmingly powerful – rather than remaining short-lived and of little concern, Milton’s tornadoes turned a massive iron structure into a heap of mangled metal. Trees directly in a violent tornado’s path in Palm Beach Gardens were stripped of their leaves and uprooted, concrete walls torn away. This damage earned the tornado a violent EF3 rating. One of those nineteen confirmed tornadoes tore through a retirement community in Fort Pierce, killing five of some of Florida’s vulnerable retirees in what was classified as another EF3 tornado. Mobile homes in senior living communities faced the particular risk of low storm resistance and older residents who often struggle to or are otherwise reluctant to evacuate.

Milton ultimately landed as a powerful Category 3, bringing with it winds that ripped the roof off the Tampa Bay Rays stadium, an intended hurricane relief hub. It is fortunate beyond words that the bay did not cause the feared storm surge. That does not mean it cannot and will not happen in the future.

The hottest years on record have taken place within the past decade. Our collective perception of climate normalization can be based on experiences over time as little as between two to eight years. The goalposts for weather we consider to be unusual and alarming keep shifting, something akin to “boiling frog syndrome” on a global scale. Yet during a visit to South Carolina in late October, I heard over and over again from shopkeepers, extended family, even eavesdropping on the conversations of strangers: “I’ve never seen anything like that in all my years.” The pot has been boiling for a long time now. With these storms, some frogs are taking note.

I no longer live in Florida, and neither do my parents. When I spoke to my mother roughly six hours before Milton made landfall, we both remarked that weather like this is a large part of why we separately left and haven’t looked back. Residents I grew up with have expressed similar sentiments. Severe storm outbreaks wear down the mental health of Floridians struggling to recover what little some have left. Many worry that their communities, livelihoods, and even lives will be next.

I worry my friends will be next.

During his time in office, former President Trump tore down nearly 100 climate and environmentally-friendly policies, and post-Helene referred to climate change as “one of the great scams” during his re-election campaign standing amongst the hurricane wreckage of Valdosta. We are losing touch with what historically was, and should still be, the standard for the global climate. Some are forgetting the climates of their youth, while others, particularly those born after 1984 and with data up through April 2019, have never experienced a month that was on average colder than the historical norm. This is not normal, nor does it have to be – we currently sit at a crossroads between climate action and climate retreat. The choice can be made to expand upon the Biden administration’s emphasis on climate change and resiliency. The American people can still choose whether we will face the climate crisis head-on or bury our heads deeper in the sand.

This is a climate emergency. We officially passed the 1.5°C threshold in February and the climate crisis must officially be considered a defining crisis of this generation. It is a crisis that must be addressed with the weight and urgency we would give world war – this is existential and happening before our eyes. If we sit on our thumbs, continue pumping emissions, and roll back more climate mitigation policies, how long before everyone is part of a climate frontline community?

The Atlantic hurricane season ends on November 30.

Posted 05 November 2024.