LONGBOAT KEY, Fla. — When Hurricane Milton hit, the Seabaugh family was in the dark — literally and figuratively.
Hurricane Milton’s strong winds knocked out power and Wi-Fi, so they couldn’t check on their property through their home’s security cameras.
For nearly two days, because the entrances to their community remained closed after the storm, they wondered: Was their beloved home of eight years still standing or washed away to the sea?
“We didn't know what we were going to come back to,” Scott Seabaugh told NPR.
They already dealt with serious damage. When Hurricane Helene hit, the Seabaughs’ home was flooded. Helene brought an estimated 3 feet of water into their two 525-square-foot cottages on Gulf of Mexico Drive, Seabaugh said. They managed to tear out damaged walls, flooring, kitchen cabinets, furniture and other things just as Milton, a threatened “one in a 100-year storm” bore down on Florida.
“And then it's like, oh my gosh, we could lose the property again,” Seabaugh said of his thinking at the time.
The state’s barrier islands, of which Longboat Key is a part, normally avoid the worst of hurricanes. Not this time, according to forecasts leading up to the storm. Florida’s island towns were particularly susceptible to the expected 10-15-foot storm surge.
The islands were placed under a mandatory evacuation order and residents like the Seabaughs, who sheltered with their daughter in Venice during the storm, feared the worst would happen.
The Seabaughs finally got their answer on Friday morning when the bridges to Longboat Key opened to the public: Their home was still standing.
“We got very lucky here,” Seabaugh said. “So clearly, we didn't get the kind of surge that they were anticipating and just came back to two beautiful cottages.”
As climate change makes hurricanes stronger and more intense, meaning higher wind speeds, heavier rainfall and more severe storm surge, island communities like Longboat Key are particularly susceptible to catastrophic damage from hurricanes.
NPR asked residents living on Longboat Key, where beachfront homes and condos could cost millions of dollars, whether living here for the foreseeable future is worth it?
The answer was surprising.
“I think we're committed to being here,” Seabaugh said.
A piece of paradise
Underneath the storm debris littering the streets and trees ripped from their roots, the beauty of Longboat Key is obvious.
Residents that spoke to NPR about what they love about the community cited the kind and tight-knit town and called Longboat Key “paradise” and well worth the gamble of future storms.
It’s why Sharon Austin moved from Chicago to her two-bedroom home literal feet from the water earlier this year.
She closed on her home on May 1.
“I’m done raising my kids. They're both in college. And this was gonna be my little paradise,” Austin said. “It still will be.”
Her home sustained some wind damage from Milton, but it was the surprise destruction brought by Helene, her very first hurricane, that left her home essentially unlivable.
“It was like a little tsunami just came flooding in, and that's where all this damage is from,” she said pointing to her torn up walls and floors.
Just like the Seabaughs, Austin had finished removing ruined flooring and furniture to avoid mold when Milton was forecast to hit. She fled to a nearby hotel during the storm.
“I’m definitely gonna stay and rebuild,” Austin said. “There's nothing like Longboat Key.”
She said residents are friendly and the community tight-knit.
Her home’s foundation is solid and there was no obvious damage to the structure, she said. She lives at the end of a mobile home community and many of her neighbors’ properties suffered worse damage and flooding from Helene and Milton. One woman’s home was completely lost because of Helene.
“When I first came back into my place, I just got emotional because I was so overwhelmed. But then after a while cleaning up, I realized, 'No, look at this. This is paradise here',” she said. “This made it through two hurricanes. The foundation is still standing. I most definitely will stay and rebuild. And most of the owners feel the same way.”
Planning for the future
Scott Seabaugh is motivated to keep his home for the future. Not his, but his daughter’s and her eventual children, he said.
When he and his wife first bought the property in 2016, they were visited by the family members of the original builder of the home. It was emotional to see how moved that family was and how many memories they had of the place, Seabaugh said tearing up at the memory.
“We're fortunate to eventually have grandchildren,” he said gesturing to his daughter, Sydney Rendel. “I want my kids and their kids to be able to enjoy it. Hopefully, God willing, that it's still here.”
Seabaugh said he and his wife are realistic about what that may take. It will probably be another three months before they can move back into their cottage after fixing up Helene's and Milton’s damage. They’ve submitted insurance claims to make repairs, but do wonder what might happen if their home is completely wiped out in a future storm.
“I think as much as you want to stick to that idea [to stay here], financially, there's some point in time where you have to say, uncle. Where I just can't afford it,” he said.
Because of that, Rendel and her husband are already saving up and making plans to one day own the home. Hurricane-proofing a home, for example with strengthened windows or reinforced concrete, can cost tens of thousands of dollars.
“There's memories built here. And there's memories for future generations that we want to build here. So it does have meaning. It is a structure, but it also isn't. My husband and I are preparing that if it becomes ours someday, we may have to rebuild,” she said.
Austin is planning for the future too. After her experience, she aims to better prepare herself, by having evacuation and emergency equipment, and her home to be built with hurricane-proof material for future storms.
It’s a stressful and emotionally exhausting experience, but she said, “This was, what, a 1-in-100-year storm. So I guess I got another 100 years. I'll be dead by then,” she said laughing.
She jokes, but Austin said she knows the serious threat storms and the changing climate pose. But the risk in staying here remains worth it.
“I could go back to Chicago, where I grew up,” she said. “Then I've got snowstorms. So yeah, pick your vice.”
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