TR (Team Rubicon) Calls Again

By: Michael Laprade

Volume 19, Issue 11, November 2024
Editor’s Note:
So many snowbirds visit southern states once their summer homes on islands are closed. Over the past three years, we have had hurricanes and tornadoes that have brought despair and destruction to these same southern destinations. And this year’s Hurricanes Helene (Sept 27) and Milton (Oct 9), coming one after the other, have left many of us shaken to the core.
Even coupled with government assistance through FEMA and support from family and friends, many communities are not back to normal yet, but they are on the mend. One group of individuals who are ready for the call to help with the recovery are members of TR (Team Rubicon). Honey Bee Island resident Michael Leprade is a member of Team Rubicon, and he shares his stories with friends, in what he calls his "Epistle".

In April 2022, Michael provided his first story, “What did you do over Christmas,” relating to Team Rubicon’s volunteer work in Washington state in 2021. Then, in November 2023, he got the call again and went to Taylor County, Florida. This last month, when I received his October Epistle, I quickly asked if we could share it here. We now present Michael’s "October Epistle", as he starts to relate the latest TR Call …
Michael Leprade's The Epistle, a monthly newsletter sent to family and friends. 


TR (Team Rubicon) Calls Again

I know, I know, it's all old news to you. We’ve all moved on to more current events. All summer long, the forecast kept predicting that this would be a terrible hurricane season. While I was not hoping for it, I was always ready with a packed GO bag. I committed to being available to respond to disasters, as I was trained by TR (Team Rubicon) and they have not been shy about asking for help. It seems that Hurricane Helene had had its way with the locals, and there were trees to cut and a huge mess to clean up. TR had started setting up operations in seven different areas when the first call out was right at the time we were flying back from the island to our home in California.

We barely got home when I got the call to fly back to the east coast. I was being deployed, just as I was getting comfy in my retirement rocking chair. So, I headed to the airport to meet my strike team. The poop had hit the fan in five states, and I was sent to Augusta, Georgia, where I am currently. It was time to get to work.

Michael Leprade is on the left with his white helmet, while TR teammate is examining the pile of fallen trees. [Photos courtesy of the author and Team Rubicon ©2024]


Right then, Milton reared its ugly head. TR is in the business of providing disaster response volunteers, not adding to disaster response victims. Many operations were called off temporarily, and some were shut down. While I am convinced that I am Seal Team 6 material, I have not yet been able to convince anyone of it. 😊 As the response to Hurricane Helene and Milton unfolded on our TV screens, we saw volunteer groups showing up to provide food, water, generators, and Starlink satellite systems in disaster areas. That was great, but we cut trees, tarp roofs, and gut flooded homes so that they can rebuild.

I could post tons of pictures, but likely you’ve seen enough on TV. [Photos courtesy of the author and Team Rubicon ©2024]

It seems unbelievable that hurricane Helene hit right between Perry (my deployment number 7 last year) and Mexico Beach (my deployment number 4). This was in the Florida panhandle (Northwest corner of the state), in what is often referred to as the catcher's mitt. Personally, I think that Florida needs to move west, closer to California, for better weather. After this deployment, I suspect that I will be sent back to Florida in a few weeks to help with the damage Milton left behind. If this keeps up, I will spend more time in Florida than I do in California.

This being my 8th deployment, I wish I could say that I have seen worse. I mean, how bad does total destruction have to be, for it to be worse? Helene was a category 4 hurricane with a storm surge of nine feet (3 M) and 30 inches of rain (76CM) in some areas, with winds up to 140 MPH (225 KPH). Think about it; that is twice the speed at which you drive on the highway. Trees become missiles that can embed themselves through a wall, and trash cans become bowling balls that break windshields. You can hide from the wind, but you have to run from the water.

A nine foot storm surge puts the whole ground floor of your house under water. Your living room, bedrooms, and kitchen are now an aquarium. Your car is a submarine and your job is gone. Really, gone. Within a few hours, you have lost power, water (think toilet), phone, internet, refrigeration, TV, and lights. There are downed trees blocking your driveway and the roads and bridges are washed out. The grocery store, pharmacy, gas station, police station, . . . all gone. Go ahead and call for help. Oh wait, I forgot! You don't have a phone. Besides, they have all lost their homes too. At this point, not wanting to be overly dramatic, you realize that there is little that separates you from the life of a caveman. Few of us can really relate to that.

Over 230 deaths in five states were reportedly attributed to Helene from flood waters, we are told, the highest in 200 years. I am not quite sure how authorities could know that – good records? They expect to find additional bodies until Christmas. Team Rubicon and other disaster response organizations do not get called out unless local authorities are overwhelmed, and this was clearly the case here. I was merely a little wheel in the giant cog of disaster responders, but a big deal to the people we are helping. My accommodations were a broken Red Cross cot in a brightly lit (24/7) hallway with 30 other people, overlooking the basketball court in the community center.

Milton was a different story. Before I even flew to Augusta, it had grown from a category 1 hurricane to a category 5, in a mere 18 hours. As it approached the Florida coast, the sustained winds were 180 MPH (290 KPH) with gusts over 200 MPH (320 KPH), prompting the weather bureau to suggest that a new category 6 designation might be needed. As incredible as the storm surge was from Helene, Milton’s storm surge was predicted to be up to 15 feet (5 M). Have a look at the graphic above again. 15 feet is above the roof line.

By Michael Laprade

It was back in 2009 when Kim Lunman Grout introduced readers of TI Life to Michael and his wife, Janice, in her article,  “Honey Bee’s Magic.” They live on Honey Bee Island at the east end of the International Rift between Wellesley and Hill Islands. Michael is a former prison administrator and is also a Professional Magician. In October 2013, Michael and Janice wrote Honey Bee Island’s Little Free Library for TI Life. Then came I Was the Pilot in September 2016, Boarding of the SS Honey Bee in January 2018, and Chief Tecumseh, in September 2021. Then in April 2022, he wrote Team Rubicon: So . . . what did you do for Christmas? Next were Guilty as Charged! in August 2022 and Team Rubicon Not Forgotten in November 2023. There are no more disasters at the moment, but please stay tuned, since this gentleman never seems to stop for a rest even if he says he is retired!

Posted in: Volume 19, Issue 11, November 2024, Essay


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