We like to think we're tough here in New York, but I'm notashamed to say that the thought of a hurricane coming right at usscared the wits out of me. Frankly, I don't know how folks instorm-prone areas live with this threat all the time.

What eased my nerves a bit was the discipline of riskmanagement. Three decades of covering the insurance businesscertainly has left an impression. So I prepared for the worst-casescenario and hoped for the best.

Living in southern Brooklyn, not far from the beaches of ConeyIsland, put me on the cusp of one of New York City's coastalevacuation zones. So the first question was whether my wife and Ishould abandon our apartment. Residing on the sixth floor of aseven-story brick building, about a half-mile from the ocean to thesouth and Sheepshead Bay to the east, I felt somewhat secure fromflooding.

However, what concerned me more was whether our windows wouldhold up against hurricane-force winds. If even one of the windowsshattered or was blown out of their frame, wind and water wouldpour into our apartment. The only “safe” haven was the bathroom,which didn't have any windows, but that would be a pretty smallsanctuary for my wife and me. Otherwise, we were totallyexposed.

I was also concerned about the two air conditioners I have. Iknew one of them, which slides into the window each summer, had tobe removed right away whether I stayed or evacuated. The other wasbolted securely into the window with supports drilled into the wallbeneath it. We never take it out, just wrapping it up in winter.But what about those accordion flaps on either side? I couldn'texpect them to offer much defense against howling winds, could I?We took a deep breath and left it as is.

Ultimately, after doing some low-tech “crowdsourcing” (talkingto our neighbors and building super), we decided to stick it out,come hell or high water. That defied my risk-management instincts,and was perhaps not the most sensible move we ever made. But givenour location, we thought the risk was manageable, and the fact allour fellow residents stayed put gave us a (perhaps false) sense ofconfidence that all would end well.

Actually, it was an agonizing decision. In retrospect, weprobably should just have gotten out of there. But we'd never beenin a position before of having to abandon our home, and the pull tostay was very strong, even in the face of a monster storm.

Still, I knew we had to have some backup plans in place, just incase.

Should one of the windows shatter or blow out, we figured wecould retreat into our floor's common hallway, which has nowindows. It wouldn't be the most comfortable night, but neitherwould a public shelter or a friend's basement apartment outside theevacuation zone.

We ended up packing all our suitcases and garment bags. Wesecured an assortment of clothes, should the bedroom be breachedand our closets drenched. We packed all of our critical electronicequipment—laptops, cameras, tablets, e-readers, etc. And, ofcourse, we assembled all of our key financial documents—includingour insurance policies—wrapped them in plastic bags and packed themaway in a briefcase for easy access. All this was placed near thedoor for a quick exit.

We assembled enough food and water for three days, filled thebathtub with water (so we could flush the toilet should the powergo down) and, last but not least, wrapped all our favorite picturesand tchatchkes (Yiddish for knickknacks) and put them away in ahall closet that I felt fairly certain could withstand just aboutanything Irene threw at us. (I was concerned that if the windowsfailed, these cute little loose items would be blown all over theplace, turning them from beloved keepsakes into potentially deadlymissiles, and at best breaking or ruining them.)

Then we waited. The anticipation was the worst part of all thisfor me (luckily). Every TV channel had non-stop coverage, showingthat bright red storm system ominously making its way up the EastCoast toward New York. I felt like I was living in the middle of adisaster movie!

As it turned out, Sheepshead Bay did overflow, but recededquickly, and our sewers handled the heavy rainfall without majorflooding. A few homes nearby lost power, but our building neverdid. Most importantly, the windows held firm (even the one with thelocked-in air conditioner and the flaps).

In the end, for me personally, Hurricane Irene turned out to bemuch ado about nothing, thank goodness. That wasn't the case for somany others up and down the East Coast. Lives were lost, andproperty was destroyed or badly damaged. People were without powerfor days.

Here in Brooklyn, however, through sheer luck, we dodged abullet, and for that I am grateful.

Sam J. Friedman joined Deloitte Research as Insurance Leaderlast October after 29 years at National Underwriter, wherehe was Group Editor In Chief of the P&C Media Division. He maybe reached at [email protected].