A Storm of Memories

I've learned through this process that there are "grief ambushes" that can come out of nowhere. I've also learned that there are "memory ambushes" as well. Hurricane Irene potentially hitting the East Coast is bringing up some memories. These memories are from when I was very young, so the details might not be accurate, but here's what I remember.
I remember Dad sending us to a friend's house inland in front of an approaching hurricane while he stayed home to protect the house (what he'd do I'm not sure, but I bet he thought he could stop a hurricane).
During another storm, I remember him ruining or nearly ruining a car after he was able to convince the National Guard (or whoever was patrolling the area) to let him drive through a flood so that he could get home to us.
And the one that I remember most fondly occurred during a random thunderstorm.  I remember it as a really bad storm and that Joe and I were home with Mom and we were scared.  Dad raced home, saw that we were scared and piled us into the car. He told us that during a thunderstorm, a car was the safest place to be. Whether this was true or not, it didn't matter. I just know that I felt safe as we drove down near the beach and watched the waves from the car.
I feel like I've inherited his protective nature and I hope that when I start a family that I can make them feel as safe because when I was growing up, it just seemed like nothing bad could happen when Dad was around.