‘It’s life, man. Mother Nature.’ Far inland, they’re now refugees from Milton flooding

Some of Hurricane Milton’s worst flooding came more than 20 miles inland — far from the affluent coastal areas of Clearwater, St. Petersburg and Tarpon Springs that had largely evacuated from the threat of the monster storm.

Nearly a day after Milton’s landfall, the water was still waist deep in a community in unincorporated Hillsborough County just north of Tampa — bombarded by so much rain, up to a foot and a half in some areas, that residents were trapped.

North 15th Street, about two blocks east of Route 41, looked more like a canal. Volunteers crews used all-terrain vehicles and kayaks and a team from the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission launched an aluminum jon boat to search house-to-house and unit-to-unit Thursday afternoon, taking soggy survivors aboard.

A few residents in one complex were reluctant to be rescued, deciding to stay put until the waters receded. Keisha Jones was one of them.

“Because I didn’t want nobody to steal my stuff,” Jones answered a Miami Herald reporter about why she turned down an offer to help evacuate from FWC officers. Sitting on the stairwell leading to the second level of the two-story Cypress Landing apartment building, Jones said that she’s lived in Florida all her life, but just moved to the complex in April.

“I haven’t seen anything like this in my entire 49 years,” she said.

An FWC officer asked Jones if anyone else remained who needed rescuing. She told him that crews had removed all the other residents except for her and one other woman sitting with her.

“You guys be careful,” the officer, wearing a cowboy hat, said as the boat backed away from the building.

“Thank you all,” Jones said.

The North Tampa neighborhood is hard-scrabble with aging buildings but also out of evacuation zones so residents hunkered down worried about Milton’s wind, not its water. One man, who did not want to give his name, said in Spanish that he had lived in the community for more than 14 years and had never seen anything like the misery that remained almost a full day after Milton crossed the Gulf Coast as a Category 3 hurricane. Blocks of the community looked like a lake.

‘You can’t replace a life’

Other residents wanting to get out of the neighborhood used creative means like kayaks, canoes and even inflatable mattresses. Many who tried driving out ended up with their cars breaking down in the flood.

FWC officers, however, cautioned those in the water that because most of the homes still had power, they might be risking electrocution by standing and walking in the floodwaters.

According to the National Weather Service, Milton dumped between 10 to 19 inches of rain in parts of Hillsborough County.

The nonstop downpour saturated the ground and debris clogged drainage systems, creating the flood that showed no signs of ebbing late Thursday, said Bryan Stern, founder of Grey Bull Rescue Foundation, a search and rescue group that’s membership is primarily made up of military veterans.

Stern’s organization was out in force along 15th Street. They either waded through the waters trailing kayaks, or used all-terrain vehicles to reach those in need. In all, about 40 Grey Bull Rescue Foundation members volunteered in the area that day, rescuing more than 12 people, Stern said.

“You can replace a sock drawer, but you can’t replace a life,” he said.

Stern’s group has been busy lately. Not only are they helping Milton victims, he said he still has people volunteering in Helene-torn Asheville, N.C, but also in Israel and Beirut, Lebanon.

“So, we’re kind of all over the place right now,” he said.

One of Stern’s volunteers Thursday was Ron Malloy. The 57-year-old retired as a captain in the U.S. Navy Seals in October after 33 years in the service and said he can relate to what the residents are going through. He lost his home in St. Petersburg last month to Hurricane Helene’s storm surge.

“Helping people out. It doesn’t get much better,” Malloy said as he pulled a kayak full of people’s belongings.

Behind Malloy, three young men slogged through the water wearing T-shirts and shorts. They are roommates, who only asked to be named as Joe, G and Tony. They said the water began rushing into their apartment around 11 p.m. Wednesday and never stopped until it crept up to their waists.

Asked their reaction to the flood, Joe shrugged and told a reporter, “It’s life, man. Mother Nature.”

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