I may have only been four, but I remember Elena pretty vividly. She stalled right off the coast of west central Florida, turned around, and scraped the panhandle before she finally made landfall in Mississippi. I don't think she ever actually made landfall in Florida. My grandparents had evacuated to my parents' home near St. Marks, and we all ended up piling into cars and driving to /their/ house in central Florida by the time all was said and done.

My most vivid memory of the trip was sitting in the back of my grandmother's van with the family dog licking me in the face.

Every time I start to get complacent that a storm will hit a certain place, I remember Elena.