Hurricane Ike: After

(Part 3 of 3 in my mini-series on Hurricane Ike.)

Read Part 1
Read Part 2

The first thing I saw when I looked out the window was the fence in my friend's back yard. It was flat on the ground. And her yard was littered roof shingles. Some of the bushes in their front yard were wiped out. Compared to what happened in other parts of southeast Texas, they escaped lightly.

We went to work on the refrigerator, emptying out the contents and putting staples (like cheese, milk, and lunch meats) in an ice-filled cooler while eating the extremely perishable items (mostly leftovers). There was a strict no-open policy on the refrigerator and freezer doors. I had to wait most of the day to retrieve my 7up from the fridge.


My friend's husband went to work in the yard, cleaning up the debris and temporarily repairing the damage. That's how they roll in Texas. Hunker down for the storm and the start cleaning up the mess.

Only the mess this time was the biggest one in over two decades. More than 2 million people lost power. Let me repeat that. Over 2 million people without power. Although the energy companies got to work right away, restoring power to my friend's house and my apartment within 24 hours, some Houston residents are still without power. Two weeks after the storm and they still have no air conditioning, no internet access, and no means of storing and cooking foods. It's like living in pioneer times.

I didn't venture out until Sunday, a good 36 hours after the storm. Houston was under a curfew (6am to 7pm, I think) and was encouraging residents not to go out unless absolutely necessary. I went to check on the status of my apartment (with horrified images of my very exposed bedroom windows being blown out and my YA collection destroyed by wind and rain). Thankfully, there had been only a brief power outage and loss of water pressure.

I returned to my friend's home, waiting for the water to be restored--that happened on Monday. I was so lucky. I only experienced a brief period without power and had to wait an extra day to return home because of water pressure. So many other have suffered and are still suffering more.

I'll let some of my pictures do the talking now.

This is the parking lot behind my Starbucks.

Whole trees down in my neighborhood.

That lake off to the left? It's actually a parking lot and baseball and soccer fields.

The freezer section in my grocery store, about five days after the storm. Other sections, along with lots of stuff in the dairy and produce areas, were completely empty.

A traffic signal just hanging down to the street.

Though the national media coverage may have waned, the residents of the Houston Bay Area still live with the devastation of Hurricane Ike. Residents of the Bolivar peninsula were only just allowed back to *look* at their homes today. Many are homeless, powerless, and waterless. Traffic signals still don't work, curfews are still in effect, and the restoration and recovery efforts will still be going strong months from now.

Keep Houston in your thoughts and, if you feel compelled, donate to the Red Cross in Ike's name. The people of southeast Texas will come back stronger and faster for your help.

Hugs,
TLC

Hurricane Ike: During

(Part 2 of 3 in my mini-series on Hurricane Ike.)

Read Part 1

About seven seconds after the power went out, my friend's house became an insta-sauna. For those of you who don't live in a humid climate, the careful cultivation of a livable environment depends on a perfect balance of air-conditioning and ceiling fans. Without power we lost both.

So, we had no television, no internet, no lights, and no reprieve from the sweltering heat.


We lit candles and lounged on sticky leather couches, listening to local news broadcasts on my emergency radio and trying not to generate more heat than absolutely necessary. I also kept my parents updated on my status via text messages (which I copied to my Twitter profile so anyone could get a live play-by-play on the storm). Here are some of my Tweets:

IKE Report: Power is out. 9:39 PM

IKE Report: Eye approaching downtown Houston on the East. Life is very hot w/out AC. 4:37 AM

IKE Report: Power has tried to flash on a couple of times. Come on fan, you can do it! 6:00 AM

IKE Report: Main storm has passed. Still raining, still no power. 9:00 AM

Eventually we realized that lying around listening to news was only going to prolong our misery and around 11:00 we went to bed. It took me a looong time to fall asleep. (I was sleeping downstairs on one of the sticky leather couches and though the wind kept howling down my friend's chimney, not one whoosh stirred the heavy air.) I just kept thinking to myself, "If I just fall asleep, it will all be over when I wake up."


But I couldn't stay asleep. First it was the crying baby, whose room was getting even less circulation than the rest of the house. Then it was the sound of my friend's husband laying towels behind the front door and under all the leaky front-facing windows. Then it was my friend running water in the kitchen to make the baby a bottle. (Every time she ran the water I jolted awake, convinced that we'd lost a window and the hurricane-force rains were now showering into the house.)

Each time I woke up I texted my parents (who were sleeping peacefully in their OKC beds) and Twitter, just so there would be a record of my experience, and listened to the latest update on the storm's progress.

A storm in the dark is exponentially scarier than one that passed in daylight hours. Even when we dared to look out the windows, all we could see were faint images of horizontal rain and occasional flashes of light (maybe lightning, maybe exploding transformers). Who knew what had happened beyond the reach of our vision.

Finally, at around 9:00, we all woke up and faced the day. Ike had passed, but there was tragedy and destruction in his wake.

Hugs,
TLC

Hurricane Ike: Before

(Part 1 of 3 in my mini-series on Hurricane Ike.)

Last Wednesday, September 10, was my birthday. (Number 32, thank you very much.) I went out to dinner with friends, had the most amazing birthday dessert ever*, and then went home to prep for Ike. You see, that was also they day we knew for sure that Ike was heading our way here in Houston, although we didn't know until Friday just how dead-on he would be.


I spent Thursday moving thing in my apartment away from windows, packing for my evacuation to a friend's house farther west, and obsessively checking the online hurricane trackers at the National Hurricane Center, the Weather Channel, and the Houston Chronicle. My plan was to get up early Friday morning (a good 18 hours before the storm was predicted to hit the coast) and head to Katy. Then I lost my internet. Being cut off from my major sources of information freaked me out, so I threw my clothes and non-perishable foods into a suitcase, tucked my laptop in a tote, and locked the door behind me.


My friend and I spent Thursday evening and most of Friday paying with her three kids (okay, two kids and a husband), brainstorming books, trying not to eat any of our hurricane stores, and watching news coverage of the coming storm. After the kids went to bed, we watched the summer finale of Psych and fielded worried phone calls from parents, neighbors, and friends.


Then, at 9:30, the power went out. Ike had arrived.

Hugs,
TLC

* This dessert consisted of a silver vase overflowing with blue cotton candy (like a giant ice cream cone) with a sparkler on top. Cotton candy and sparklers are two of my favorite things on earth. It was amazing. Definitely my best dessert since the Smurfette cake at my 7th birthday party.