They have a charmed way of thinking here in Naples.
It’s been 45 years since a major hurricane made landfall. That was Donna in 1960. In between then and now, many storms have passed. Even Katrina brushed over this scenic, wealthy enclave. Rita threatened too. None have knocked directly on the door.
A former emergency management official, they say, notched it up to the Lord. God, he told his co-workers, owned a condo in Naples, so no bad storms would dare strike.
The gentleman working the front desk at our hotel went one better: The locals, he said today, have enough money to pay the storms to go elsewhere.
The perception, until now, has been that “people think it’s immune from hurricanes here,’’ said Jaime Sarbaugh, public information coordinator for the Collier County Bureau of Emergency Services. 
But this storm is different. Where officials feared apathy, she said, they keep hearing about voluntary evacuations.
“We think people are taking this pretty seriously,’’ Sarbaugh said.
Emergency officials have a lot to think about too.
These are post-Katrina times. Residents expect more. They expect to be safe, especially if they do as they are told and put their faith in government. Not federal government, but local.
“We watched the things that went wrong in New Orleans,’’ Sarbaugh said, “and it scared us to death.’’
Plans have been tweaked since then. Evacuations are being urged. Transportation for those who don’t have any or cannot afford it is being prepared. Shelters are being opened.
The message is simple, and reflective of Katrina’s wake. Collier County doesn’t want people to think they are relying on the Federal Emergency Management Agency.
“We want people to know emergency management is a local-level department,’’ Sarbaugh said. “We’re prepared to handle this.”
The question, of course, is handle what? What will happen, and when?
Thursday night, as photojournalist Mark Guss and I drove around Naples, we were amazed to see a bustling downtown gallery and restaurant district filled with people. Outside cafes, awaiting food. Walking past shops. Knocking back drinks at the local Irish pub. Few windows are boarded up, fewer businesses closed.
On a public beach entrance at a cul-de-sac, visitors dug their toes in the sand. People waded out into the calm waters.
It’s eerie, and comforting, all at once. You gain strength from their lack of fear, their confidence that luck will once again hold its hand. Naples has lasted 45 years without a direct threat. If God is a snowbird, maybe he arrived early to spruce up his pad.
Then you think about the buzz inside the EOC war room. The phone calls that have already been made. Officials here have talked to Homeland Security, FEMA, the Air Force and the Secret Service.
Yes, the Secret Service.
That call was classified. Few people allowed to listen in. But speculation holds that agents are already making plans - just in case - for a presidential visit to survey what’s left once Wilma comes knocking on the door.