Inside the ‘dark heart’ of Hurricane Milton: The Mail’s GREG WOODFIELD shares his agonizing wait to see if his Florida home survived

As deadly Hurricane Milton barreled towards my wife and I in the early evening, the heightened tension was borderline unbearable.

With a countdown of less than three hours to landfall, we still didn’t know if our four-bedroom home would or would not take a direct hit from 125mph winds.

We’d been timidly hopeful amid the rollercoaster of information gushing from local TV coverage for days – and cranked up to constant as the gut-wrenching deadline approached.

It needed to head south for our home in a quiet enclave in north-western Tampa Bay to dodge the most deadly and destructive path, a narrow five-to-10-mile width of unbearable dread.

Then Milton did the unthinkable. At least, the unthinkable to us.

A dog is rescued amid the high waters on Memorial Highway in Tampa in the aftermath of Hurricane Milton

With some 180 minutes to go – yes, we were counting it down as precisely as that – it suddenly bumped a shade north.

The moment happened in real-time on TV as were watching the National Hurricane Center track, that darned little black line that felt like it had our future in its grasp.

Our anxiety level naturally increased as we viewed the development from the modern hotel in mid-town Tampa where we’d sought to ride this out, along with hordes of other ‘refugees’ who had left their homes to the mercy of nature.

Yet for others among the three million or so who live in the Tampa Bay area, there must have been a spark of relief at that track shift. For them, a north bump gave hope.

One person’s escape is potentially another person’s catastrophe in the hurricane business. We know, because four other hurricanes have devastated Florida’s west coast since we moved there three years ago from Miami.

And that feeling of relief only brings a genuine bout of guilt among Floridians who pull together in these times of deadly emergency, helping neighbors with good deeds and kind words.

So with hours to go it appeared Milton was beginning to head back to us again with vengeance in its dark heart.

If it kept shimmying that way, our earlier faint hopes of escaping the worst could be lost, along the normal dreams that any couple has for their home and future.

It was a sleepless night for the couple, as they worried about whether their home would survive as the area was lashed by 129mph winds

‘As we remained glued to the TV, the winds outside our hotel began gusting to around 50mph and the rain that had begun in the morning as a foretaste of what was to come intensified alarmingly,’ Woodfield writes

Whatever the track, we were in the ‘cone of uncertainty’, which meant hurricane force winds regardless of the final fickle mood of Milton. There was nothing we could do but watch, listen and hope.

As we remained glued to the TV, the winds outside our hotel began gusting to around 50mph and the rain that had begun in the morning as a foretaste of what was to come intensified alarmingly.

Woodfield and his wife, Luz Stella fled their four bedroom home and took refuge in a hotel

Then Milton hit as a Category 3 storm with wind speeds of up to 129mph at 8.30pm local time. The center destructive band smashing into Siesta Key, a barrier island off Sarasota and just south of Tampa Bay.

Ultimately, I will not say we were relieved. Eleven people have so far lost their lives to Milton or its influence. Four have died in tornadoes while two others have perished in St Petersburg, just north of Sarasota.

Our hotel hardly shook as we stayed awake through the worst of it, despite the incredible roar of the hurricane winds outside that intensified into the early hours. Even through the hurricane-resistant windows, the noise was deafening. My wife didn’t get to sleep until 5.30 in the morning (she tells me).

At our home, it was a slightly different story. During the night, I’d received an ‘extreme wind warning’ message on my phone for our specific area. Local TV meteorologist and hurricane guru Denis Phillips had warned if you get one of those it’s serious.

Our area was now in the dramatic and super-powerful ‘northern wall’ of the eye. This turned out to mean wind gusts nudging 110mph blasting our house and an astonishing 10 inches of rain in a few hours.

Bleary-eyed, we drove from our hotel with trepidation through increasingly heavily flooded roads. As we turned a corner through the community’s electric gates, we both looked at each other with the expressions that said: ‘This is it.’

Woodfield writes that he and his wife are among the three million people left without power with ‘no clue’ when it might come back on

Gusts knocked out windows of a midtown high rise in Tampa. Woodfield and his wife were in a hotel in the area and described the ‘incredible roar of the hurricane winds outside’

Sloshing through the floods, this man was intent on getting his dog to safety

Many Tampa residents were still dealing with the impact of Hurricane Helene, which turned everyday objects into debris

The couple received an ‘extreme wind warning’ on their phones as the storm swept in, but still some folks found relief in macabre humor such as this sign on a home along Memorial Highway

We had already been through enough emotion. Packing the car to escape with our most precious possessions, plus all the essential documents to carry on with life if everything else was lost, was ordeal enough.

As was filming the house for insurance purposes then realizing this could be the last time we saw it like that.

However, we’re still standing, even if the fences were blown down. The house itself escaped damage that I can see, so we’re grateful for the relatively recent new roof and hurricane windows, despite the hit to the bank balance.

We dodged the actual bullet. My neighbors were not so lucky. Immediately opposite, they lost a large section of their roof. Meanwhile the local 7-11 gas station was ripped to pieces.

The worry for us now is flooding. We’re well away from the effects of storm surge – which did not materialize in the way it was feared – yet we are at mercy of a local water system that has swamped the nature preserve beside our house and is now covering a large part of our lawn.

The road leading to our community had at least a foot of water in places and it’s still there as I write. Only an SUV stood any chance of navigating it early this morning.

At the nearby Tampa Bay Downs horse racing track, it resembles a decent-sized lake – gushing water still feeding the flooding. Other businesses nearby are awash and roads are impassable.

Tampa was still recovering from deadly Hurricane Helene, which hit only two weeks ago. Now some residents who were inundated by up to nine feet of storm surge in that horrific event are battling new flood waters outside their homes.

The force of the winds was so strong that trees were uprooted in some parts 

A toppled business sign seen lying at the side walk of N Nines Avenue

Flooding at the local horse racing track was so severe one couple turned up with a canoe, Woodfield writes

A truck battles through the floods on West Hillsborough Avneue in Tampa. Woodfield describes how residents were back living their normal lives ‘within hours’

The force of the winds has uprooted giant trees in the coastal Dana Shores area, which was devastated by Helene. Although the houses themselves there appeared to have escaped a second surge.

And while many areas of Tampa Bay are reeling from yet another hurricane, parts of the city appear untouched. No trees down, hardly any debris and zero flooding, That is the fickle nature of these beasts.

We are among the three million people currently without power and there’s no clue to when it might be restored. After Helene some people have only recently been reconnected. 

Within hours of Milton, folk in my community were back on the pickleball courts. And at the race track, a couple turned up with a canoe to make the most of the new water facility. Crazy? It is, after all, Florida.