Devastating Hurricane Milton Hits Florida – Are You in the Danger Zone?

Darkness fell as the storm hit Florida’s Gulf Coast, bringing deadly tornadoes and heavy flooding. Millions lost power, and many communities were left in ruins.

Source: Getty Images

Hurricane Milton, a strong Category 3 storm, made landfall near Siesta Key in Sarasota County, Florida, on October 9, around 8:30 in the evening.

With winds over 120 miles per hour and heavy rain, the hurricane caused major damage. More than 1.1 million homes and businesses lost power, especially in Sarasota, Manatee, and Hardee counties.

ABC news

The Florida Division of Emergency Management (FDEM) posted on Facebook, urging people to stay inside and remain alert.

As the hurricane approached, tornadoes tore through St. Lucie County, causing severe damage and deaths. Sheriff Keith Pearson confirmed “multiple fatalities” in a senior community near Fort Pierce.

The exact number of deaths is still unknown as rescue teams search for survivors. “They are listening for life,” Pearson said, describing efforts to find people in the wreckage.

Source: Getty Images

St. Lucie County has suffered massive destruction. County spokesman Erick Gill said, “Dozens of homes have been damaged, some with catastrophic damage.”

Statewide, about 125 homes were destroyed, mostly in senior mobile home communities, according to FDEM Director Kevin Guthrie. Emergency workers are working nonstop to help those affected.

Governor Ron DeSantis said the storm caused 116 tornado warnings across the state, with 19 tornadoes confirmed. The damage from Hurricane Milton is widespread.

Source: Getty Images

In St. Petersburg, a rare rainfall event occurred, with over nine inches of rain in just three hours. This was more rain than the city usually gets in three months.

An advisory on October 10 from the National Weather Service warned of flash floods in parts of west-central Florida. Strong winds also continued to hit the east coast.

By 1:00 a.m. Eastern Time, St. Petersburg had winds of 48 mph, with gusts up to 79 mph. Orlando recorded winds of 46 mph, with gusts of 74 mph, and Cape Canaveral had winds of 52 mph, with gusts up to 67 mph.

My husband threw all my paintings away. I decided to give him a real lesson now

When I discovered Tim had thrown away my paintings, it felt like a piece of my soul had been ripped away. Each stroke of paint, each color combination, each image on the canvas represented hours of joy, frustration, and fulfillment. But to him, they were nothing but “junk.”

A Moment of Realization

That evening, exhausted from work, I decided to revisit an old painting that I believed had more potential. The idea of reworking it filled me with a rare excitement. However, my anticipation turned to horror when I descended into the basement, only to find it empty. The walls were bare, the shelves clean, and my paintings—gone. I stood there in shock, a cold sense of loss washing over me. How could he do this? How could he erase a part of my life so carelessly?

Confrontation and Anger

I stormed upstairs, fury bubbling inside me. There he was, lounging on the couch, engrossed in a football game, a bag of chips in hand. “Tim! Where are my f***ing paintings?” I demanded, my voice shaking with rage.

He glanced at me nonchalantly and said, “Oh, honey, relax. You should be thanking me for taking out that junk.”

For Illustrative purpose only

His dismissive attitude was the final straw. I exploded in anger, yelling at him, but he remained unbothered, barely acknowledging my distress. It was clear he didn’t understand or care about the pain he’d caused.

The Plan for Revenge

As I stood there, seething, a plan began to form in my mind. If he could so casually discard something that meant so much to me, then he deserved a taste of his own medicine. I decided to retaliate in a way that would hit him where it hurt the most.

For Illustrative purpose only

The next day, I waited until Tim left for work. Fueled by a sense of righteous indignation, I methodically gathered all his cherished belongings—his prized football memorabilia, his vintage record collection, even his favorite recliner. I loaded everything into the back of my car and drove to the nearest charity shop. Watching the workers unload his precious items, I felt a twisted sense of satisfaction. Let’s see how he likes it, I thought.

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