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In September 1988 my family and I flew to the Mexican resort area of Cancun for a short vacation. We were hit by hurricane Gilbert, a category-5 storm that ravaged the Yucatan Peninsula with 23-foot waves and 218 mph winds. The army evacuated us at gun point from our hotel and took us to an abandoned machine shop. Everybody was sitting on the floor waiting for the unknown. Some people had tuberculosis and were coughing horribly, but there was no way to get them to a hospital. We took out the windows before they could implode. My family was given two long metal bookcases to sleep in. During the first night, sheets of roofing flew right over our heads, nearly hitting us. There was no food. We bribed a man to open up a shop and sell us Ritz crackers, cheese and Cokes. All I had for my 8 month old daughter, Ali, was three diapers and three bottles. Somebody gave me condensed milk and distilled water in tiny blue containers. I mixed these and fed them to Ali. She didn't cry one time during the whole ordeal. |
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