They had tons of warning. Hurricanes are like that. Usually they turn out to be way more warning than actual hurricane. My parents had lived all over the world. They had been in bad weather. They were born in Texas and Oklahoma and lived through the dust bowl. They were not fazed by a little bit of wind and rain.
So when they were told to evacuate, they made sure they had enough bourbon, scotch and ice and put their feet up to relax.
Hugo came through and over the course of the first couple of days and then the next few weeks, explained to them the difference between a little bit of wind and rain and A FUCKING HURRICANE!!!!!
They actually did stay in their house until the 3rd day of no electricity. Mom's hair needed washing and Daddy was totally out of ice. My brother and his wife were living in Jacksonville, FL and so that's where they went.
Hugo really fucked up Charleston. They lost a couple of their favorite restaurants and several businesses they used just never came back. Their dry cleaners disappeared totally which does not sound like a big deal unless you understand that in the South it is quite common to store your winter clothes at the dry cleaners. Daddy always said that he figured his good camel hair coat was somewhere over Bermuda.
Ever after Hugo, whenever there was hurricane talk, my parents started their Get The Fuck Out Of Town planning. They never had to actually ever go but they were ready. Once burned.
Today Charleston is once again being evacuated. Before they died, my parents moved into a retirement village that was huge and beautiful and a mix of able bodied, needs assistance, and total dementia. And it's out on one of the island peninsulas off the Charleston coast. I wonder how they are managing.