METAMORPHOSIS: Building the Dome of a Home

ack on the island in our homes; endless waiting for insurance checks to arrive; neighbors that
would never return; and the reawakened anxiety each and every time a tropical system entered
the Gulf.
By 10 am, the docks on the Sound side were under water. By noon, the wave action had
increased significantly, as had my apprehension. Reality was descending upon me – there was a
huge storm aimed at our beach and I was on the frontline. Had I made the right decision? What if
we had misjudged the dome's ability? What if I didn't make it? My first concern was for my family.
With my wife in Montana and my children inland, I knew they would be safe. But, I was beginning
to wonder if the same was true about the NBC crew and myself.
My wife, Valerie, was relieved that she would be able to watch me on TV and that we would be
able to communicate via the satellite phone. She was expecting an Opal event, so her concern
for my safety was minimal. After all, Opal damaged our ground level home, but did not destroy it
or wash it away. Only in the aftermath of Hurricane Ivan did she freak out about the storm's
devastating strength. With a constant vigil on our web site's message board, she posted the
news she received from me and corresponded with concerned supporters.
Cell phones began to ring incessantly as Ivan drew nearer. My family and friends called to
express their love and their anger. I was most unnerved by the calls telling me goodbye – as in
the Big Goodbye.
About 4 pm I was examining the horizon, puzzled by the bizarre clouds I was seeing. One
second they were there and the next they were gone. Finally, I realized that I was seeing the
tops of massive waves being blown apart. The spray almost looked like birds fleeing. Soon after
this observation, the road was breached by the storm surge. By 6 pm, our fate was sealed; our
destiny was to ride out Hurricane Ivan in the Dome of a Home.
During storms, to preserve the elevator car, we bring it to level 3 of the house and open the door
to prevent it from dropping to the garage level when we lose power. The first wave washed
through the garage just as we were riding the elevator up. Timing is everything!
The hours my daughter, Jenifer, and I spent sandbagging the driveways to protect the garage
and pool were erased by the first major wave. Those sandbags might as well have been made of
Styrofoam. In one wave, the sandbags were blown from my driveway through the garage and
into the swimming pool. That was a lesson in futility. Never again would I waste my time with
sandbags. By storm‟s end, I needed an archeologist to find my swimming pool.
Even as the storm‟s intensity grew, I did not realize how dramatically the NE to SW wind had
increased because the Dome does not have any windows that are affected by wind coming from
that direction. The wind meter clocked 110 mph, but then quit because the rain became too
heavy for it to function. The NBC crew sent live feeds to the four other crew members stationed
in Gulf Breeze. I finally had the opportunity to meet this half of the crew after 2005‟s Hurricane
Dennis landed in our area. During the broadcasts, we explained the Dome of a Home's features
and how they were intended to mitigate storm damage. I found it extremely disconcerting to
watch the hurricane coverage on TV and be able to see the actual event occurring
simultaneously.
Keith Olberman and Joe Scarborough both commented on their TV programs that a mad man
and a NBC news crew were weathering the storm literally on the front lines. Even though I felt
disconnected from their rhetoric, I did become increasingly concerned that I had doomed myself
and the wonderful people with me to death on national TV.
By 8 pm, the waves were pounding steadily and the action was increasing enough that I became
gravely concerned about my compatriots in this adventure. The adventure had morphed into a
responsibility that burdened my heart.
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