I remember, as a kid, thinking there was something magic about the Bahamas. Something special.

Oh, not just about the usual stuff, the beaches and the beauty and the rest of it. All of that was part of Wild Kingdom, or Cousteau, as far as I could tell. Never been there. Just watched on t.v., heard stories.

Watched the way the storms, hurricanes, never quite had the impact they had everywhere else. I told myself it must be because of the construction. The cinderblock houses, everything built to handle the storms. The Bahamians know, they're ready.

And now Dorian is telling me: be careful of your myths, your stories. They don't hold up. Not when the storm comes. And stays. Takes four miles an hour and a perfect cut across the islands. Sand bars don't take anything from a storm. Not even a little bit.

I think I'll go look at this list and see which avenues I might be able to help the Bahamas, and the other areas in Dorian's path. Recovery's hard, yep. The things that matter tend to be difficult, I guess.