Authors: Rich Goldhaber
I explained we had already checked out
most of Pelican Bay, and given what the CDC had
told us about survival rates, the twelve of us were
just about what was to be expected from the areas
we had searched.
Stan seemed to be in charge, and it was also clear Stan didn’t have a plan. Of course I didn’t
really have a plan either, but I decided to wing it.
“I’m assuming everyone except for Ruth has access
to cars?”
Everyone shook their heads yes. “Okay, let
me offer a suggestion. Why don’t we all get in our
cars and drive slowly into downtown Naples. We
can look for more survivors along the way. Some
people may have decided to gather in the downtown area just like you folks were doing here. We
can spend the night down there. I’m sure we can
find some abandoned homes. Our first priority is to
locate survivors, and then we need to figure out
what to do next. We’re going to need food and water, and somehow we’ve got to figure out how to get
the infrastructure back up and working.”
My suggestion was met with mixed reactions. Margaret was crying, “This is my home I
can’t just leave it.”
“Margaret,” I said, “we’ve all lost loved ones.
This is our new family. We’re all in this together.
We need to figure out what to do, but for sure we
all need to stay together, and that means none of
us will be staying in our old homes. We’ll work this
out Margaret; I promise you, we’ll all work this out
together.”
Margaret was still crying and Janet embraced her. Margaret looked in her eighties. She
was no taller than my own mother who was an
inch taller than five feet, and Margaret must have
weighed in at no more than 100 pounds. She
walked with a slight limp, probably in need of a
new hip; but other than that, she seemed in good
shape.
Finally Margaret said, “I’m just an old sentimental lady who lost my husband, my children,
and my grandchildren. This home has all of my
memories, and it’s hard to leave. I’m just going to
be a drain on all you youngsters; I’m too old to be
of much help. I live on the twenty-first floor of the
Swan, right over there. My husband Lou died last
week. He died in a chair on our balcony. He said
that’s where he wanted to die. I couldn’t bury him.
He’s just sitting up there looking out at the beach
he loved, and I think the best thing is if I just go on
up there and die next to him. I’m mad at God for
letting me live. I should have died with most everyone else”
“No Margaret, you’re wrong. Everyone here
has something to offer. What did you do before all
this happened?”
I quickly responded. “We’re going to need
your exact skill. We’re going to have to put together
a complete technical library to understand how to
rebuild the infrastructure. You’re going to know
how to do that. We’re going to have to find the right
kind of books to educate Carla and Jack and Bobby and Ruth. We’re all going to need your skills to
be able to do it right. We need you Margaret. We all
need you.”
I walked over and gave Margaret a hug; it
just seemed like the right thing to do, and then all
of us just huddled together and did the family hug
thing.
George said, “You’re right Jim; together we
can make it work. Let’s go along with your plan. It
makes sense, and tonight maybe we can figure out
how to make things work again.”
Perhaps I had misread George. Although
Stan seemed to be the lead guy in the group,
George might actually be a leader; maybe the silent
type, but a leader nonetheless.
We headed off in a seven car caravan and
followed Gulf Shore Blvd. all the way into downtown Naples. We moved down Fifth Avenue, the
main drag in town, but the place was deserted except for two dead bodies lying outside a restaurant.
I turned away in disgust as a team of rats were
having an uninterrupted feast.
I turned right on Ninth Street and noticed a
bright red Ferrari cruising the street. I leaned on
the horn, and the high-end sports car braked hard.
Our caravan stopped near the pricey automobile,
and everyone stepped out to greet the new survivor.
A man in his late twenties with a week-old
beard walked up to me. For unknown reasons he
thought I was in charge. “Thank God, I thought I
was the last living person. Where did you guys
come from?”
I answered, “We’re from further up north.
Jessie and I have been picking up survivors as we
drove down here.”
“I’m Blaine Peters. I’ve been driving around
town for two days looking for people, but I haven’t
found anyone yet.”
We spent the next half hour introducing
everyone and explaining the need to stay together
and continue to look for survivors. “We need a
place to stay tonight. Do you have any ideas?” I
asked.
Blaine said, “You can all stay at my house.
Our place has ten bedrooms, more than enough for
everyone; and we’ve got a generator, so we still
have electricity.”
Our caravan followed the red Ferrari down
Gordon Drive into Port Royal, the city’s most prestigious section. If your home was less than 10,000
square feet you were considered a pauper. Blaine
turned left onto Fort Charles Drive and pulled into
the last driveway at the end of the block. He
parked his Ferrari in the garage, and the rest of us
found ample parking in the long driveway.
I had never been in one of these megamansions, and this one seemed to go on forever.
Blaine led us through a black wrought iron gate
and into an expansive courtyard. A huge fountain
looked impressive even without water cascading
down its multiple levels. We followed him through
a massive wooden front door and entered the main
house.
We all stood in the foyer and marveled at
the incredible elegance of Blaine’s home. All except
for Jack who immediately said, “I have to go peepee.”
Blaine led the two young boys to a nearby
bathroom. He left them there, and said he had to
get a bucket of water from the pool to flush the toilet. I guess all the money in the world couldn’t buy
running water. I suddenly realized this pandemic
was going to be the great equalizer. Wealth no
longer meant anything. If I wanted to, I could
break into a jewelry store and take a million dollars
in diamonds, but what could I buy with a million
dollars’ worth of diamonds? Diddly-squat, that’s
what.
While the boys were doing their thing, the
rest of us just wandered around the first floor. The
place was certainly at least 20,000 square feet, and
the estate covered over three acres.
I noticed some original oil on canvas paintings on the living room wall: one Picasso, a Dali,
and two Chagalls. I wasn’t an expert on art, but I
was certain the collection was worth several million
dollars.
After helping the boys flush the toilet,
Blaine joined us. “We’ve got power, but I’ve turned
off the air-conditioning in the main living area to
save fuel. Let’s meet out on the patio.”
He led the way out the backdoor. The lavish
lanai and expansive outdoor kitchen were something my wife would have loved to have. Our group
rearranged some tables and chairs so we were all
close together. I asked Blaine, “Do you have some
pads of paper and pens. We need to do some serious planning, and we’re going to have to take
notes.”
As Blaine left to get the paper and pens, he
told us to get some cold drinks from the tiki bar.
The large refrigerator under the bar had a wide assortment of beverages. Some of the adults took
beers, and the rest of us grabbed bottles of water.
Blaine returned with writing materials, and
for some reason everyone was looking at me. One
of us had to start things off, and I guess it was me.
“All of us have lost loved ones, and the easiest
thing is for us to just sit back and grieve, and God
knows we have a lot to grieve about. But that attitude is going to be counterproductive right now.
“The way I see it, we have to focus our attention in just a few areas. We need to find permanent shelter for all of us. We need food and water,
and we’re going to have to figure out a way to get
the electricity up and running. The electricity is the
key; if we’ve got electricity, then we can fix the water supply and the toilets can be made to work.
Figuring these things out is our highest priority. So
let’s start with where we live. It can’t be here.”
Stan asked, “Why not Jim. Blaine’s got
enough rooms for all of us and he’s got a generator
to give us electricity.”
George interrupted our one on one. “I’ve
been thinking about the problem. You’re right Jim;
you’ve identified the keys to our survival, but these
things are not independent. Let me explain. The
Florida Power and Light plant is located near Fort
Myers just south of the Caloosahatchee River. I
think there’s a water filtration plant over on Alico
Road. I don’t know a lot about this stuff, but I
think the closer we are to utility providers the easier it will be to build up the infrastructure. So maybe we should be settling down further north.”
Janet spoke for the first time. “What about
Florida Gulf Coast University. It’s up in that area.
We can take over one of the student residence
halls.”
Bill added, “And it’s close to the airport. I’m
betting they store a lot of gasoline up there, and
we’re going to need gas for our cars.”
Blaine left and returned with a large foldout map of the Naples area. Janet was right; the
university might be an ideal location. We found the
Florida Power and Light power plant along the river
and the water filtration plant over on Alico Road.
Everyone studied the map and then the
feedback started to come in. Margaret said,
“They’ve got a good technical library up there. We’ll
have to add some specialty books, but it’s a good
start.”
Janet added, “We’re going to have to set up
a school, and what better place than at a university.”
Bill said “There’s a Home Depot and Costco
near there for any tools and food we may need. I
think it will be a good location.”
We all seemed to be in agreement. There
were a lot of nodding heads. “Okay,” I said, “it
looks like it might be a good place to live. Some of
us can drive up there tomorrow and check things
out. Now let’s talk about how we can get electricity
back up and running. Any thoughts?”
The analysis of the problem came from an
unexpected source. Jessie said. “I think we need a
short, a medium, and a long term solution. Shortterm we can get some gas-powered generators like
the one Blaine has and bring them up to the university. Long-term, getting the power plant up and
running may be the answer, but only if we can be
assured of a long-term supply of whatever fuel they
use to power the generators.
“I think medium term is the important
thing for us to focus on, and I’m thinking solar energy. Last summer my dad was exploring getting a
solar powered stand-alone system for our house.
There was a company in the Naples industrial park
selling solar systems. I remember looking at their
catalog, and they had some systems able to generate over 10,000 watts. A couple of those systems
could power our residence, and then we could use
a few more to power the water filtration plant.”
George became very excited. “Jessie’s right.
Those solar power systems would be very flexible
and fairly simple to install, and it’s going to take
several months to figure out how to start the Florida Power and Light plant back up.”
“Okay, tomorrow George, Jessie, and I can
check out the university and get the company brochures from her father’s office. Then we’ll check
out the company before we meet back here.”
Jessie added additional insight into our
problem. I was beginning to understand she had
this unique ability to think outside the box and
step out of the minutia and to see things from a
broader perspective. “We’re forgetting about the
bigger picture. I agree with our focusing on all the
things we’ve talked about, but we’re forgetting an
important thing. What we need to do to get things
back to livable conditions requires a lot of people
and a lot of skills. Where’s our expert on power
plants; where’s our expert on water filtration
plants; what about waste removal; what about telephones? We’re going to need experts, and we’re
probably not going to find survivors with all the
skills we’ll need. That means we’re going to have to
become self-educated experts. We’re going to need
a critical mass of people to accomplish all of this.
I’m thinking a couple of hundred people at least.
We need to find more survivors and bring them all
to the university.”
Jessie was right; we needed to find more
survivors. I thought about what we needed to accomplish tomorrow, and a lot needed to be done.
“Jessie’s right, so let’s split up tomorrow and agree
on a list of things to accomplish. Bill and Stan,
why don’t you try to break into a hardware store or
Home Depot and get some gasoline powered generators.”
Bill said, “We can borrow one of those UHaul trucks with a power lift, and Home Depot will
have a pallet truck to help us load the generators.”
“Margaret, why don’t you and Janet take
the two boys and Carla and get us food supplies for
the next few days. Try the Fresh Market and
Wynn’s over on Route #41 and maybe those places
have emergency generators. They may have invested in them to save their frozen and refrigerated
foods, and if we’re lucky, they might still be working.
“Blaine, Ruth, and Mary, in the morning,
why don’t you begin looking for other survivors,
and the rest of us can join you in the afternoon.
Let’s split up the area into different sectors, and
we’ll search each zone one at a time.”