We sawed through plywood and boarded up windows, hoarded water and bought stores out of batteries. We took down flags and porch swings and filled up with gas, hit the road or hunkered down.
In short, we all made plans.
But the impossibly large Irma, like every hurricane before and all that will come after, did not care about how well-prepared we were. The storm left us powerless before moving on to devastate areas outside its path, that didn't see what was coming.
It first found the Caribbean islands, some losing 90 percent of their buildings, the wind ripping a 2-year-old child from a relative's arms. He was found dead the next morning. In Jacksonville, the river rushed over the sea wall, the flooding so bad, a cafe owner said, that it looked like the beach had been dumped on the floor. Streets in Charleston, S.C., were underwater, fire hydrants drowned, dumpsters drifting in waves.
Technology tells us a hurricane is on its way. But no matter how many times we check the track on our screens, anything can happen.