The passage of Hurricane Matthew through Haiti, Cuba and Florida came with lessons to learn. In some cases, it’s tempting to comment “See, I told you so.”

Regarding Haiti, it wouldn’t be fair. This country on half of the island of Hispaniola has yet to recover from previous disasters. One of the large towns in Haiti is Gonaives, a coastal city of roughly 300,000 inhabitants.

Most of Gonaives is at elevations between 10 and 50 feet above sea level. Mountain ranges up to 3,000 feet surround it on three sides. In 2008, Hurricane Hanna caused a horrific flood and mudslide disaster, with hundreds of deaths and 48,000 people displaced from their homes.

The country’s capital, Port-Au-Prince, is in a similar geographic situation.

As Haiti was struggling to rebuild, a magnitude 7 earthquake in 2010 squashed hopes of a good recovery. Tent cities expanded from previous levels, and a cholera epidemic made conditions even worse. With all those makeshift habitats sitting in low-lying, mud-filled areas, the next worry was another hurricane. Inevitably, Matthew struck the island on Oct. 4 as a Category 4 storm (5 is the highest), bringing winds and floods much more powerful than Hanna did in 2008.

In an impoverished country like Haiti, safe and timely evacuation is an illusion. Even if everybody had motorized transportation, there wouldn’t be any places to go, as both the major cities are on the coast.

It’s a different story in Florida. Gov. Rick Scott ordered an evacuation in good time. Even though the highways were filled with people leaving the state, it was amazing to see the number of reports about people who wouldn’t leave.

“We cannot remove people forcibly from their homes if they refuse to evacuate,” a police official told me in North Carolina when I asked that question after a hurricane. “But if someone takes one step off their property, we’ll arrest them.”

Many think sitting through a major hurricane is like a big party. But the reality of it is a misery of broken windows, no power, water entering under the doors, wind and rain blowing through the house, and floors covered in mud. The example of a family who refused to leave, then called for help as “the roof flew off our house” is a good warning. Evacuations aren’t ordered lightly, and we’re privileged to be able to have them.

Rudi Kiefer, Ph.D., is a professor of physical science and director of sustainability at Brenau University. His column appears Sundays and at gainesvilletimes.com.