Friday, September 01, 2017

deep in the heart of texas

So, we got hit with a bit of storm this past week.  The name of the storm was Harvey. You may have heard of it … it was a doozy.  I've heard that Harvey dumped 50-inches of rain, and 25 trillion gallons of water over the Houston region over the span of four days.   I've written the word trillion, but if I expressed it numerically it would look like this:  25,000,000,000,000 GALLONS.

I've also heard that if you were to take the volume of water that fell from this Harvey event, and let it flow laterally across an even surface, it would cover the entire United States with 1/4 of an inch of water.  Now THAT is a rainstorm.  Apparently, the largest one, ever, in the history of our country.

It's important to note that two months ago, Charlie and I decided to cut our cable because we never watch television; as in never-ever. And there was no point in paying for something that we don't use. So we really wouldn't have grasped the wrath of Harvey, if not for the people from afar that were calling us in a panic that Houston was in the process of becoming completely submerged and we needed to get the hell out of dodge while the getting was good. We thought they were crazy.

Here's what we saw from our trusty Weather Channel App.  On Thursday night, there was a storm heading north through the Gulf… we were informed school would be canceled Friday so people could "prepare."  We filled our bathtub with water and made sure we had plenty of extra batteries and then hunkered down, because how bad could it be?

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Friday rolls around, skies get a little cloudy, wind picks up, but nothing too bad.

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Saturday we wake to a torrential downpour. We are in the "red band." Sheets and sheets of water falling from the sky. We went for a 10-minute walk wearing raincoats and carrying umbrellas. It didn't matter.  We might as well have been pushed in to the deep end of the pool.  Tornado warnings are popping up on our phones every five minutes.  Things don't look so good. The sky is ominous.

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Sunday, repeat of Saturday. The intensity of rain has not stopped one iota.

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Monday, was a repeat of Saturday and Sunday.  The red bands had moved off to the east, but the rain still fell and the grounds - since they were completely saturated - absorbed no additional water.  Nearby creeks overflowed their banks and the flooding was suddenly catastrophic.

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Tuesday, we - no surprise - woke up to rain.  After hearing from my colleague down the street, who had flood water less than a foot from his pool and had called to ask if he could move his cars (and his self) to our house which was 20 feet higher in elevation, we were beginning to plan our own evacuation since the creek less than a mile from our house had topped it's banks and showed no signs of slowing down.  Our friends in Dallas were put on alert we might be showing up.

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Tuesday afternoon, we had a surprise party for our neighbor, who turned 50, and since school was canceled until after Labor Day, and virtually every adult was out of work for the week because the roads were impassable; scores of us descended on his house in the driving rain.  We lit the candles on his cake, he closed his eyes tightly - made a wish - and blew out the candles.

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And just like that, the rain broke and the sun came out. It was seriously that fast.  He didn't divulge his wish to all of us, but after four straight days of dumping rain and pending evacuations due to rising flood waters … I have a pretty good idea what that wish was about.

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Even without cable news, by Monday evening, the gravity of what was happening in our area was seeping in and pictures were showing up in text feeds from my local friends.   Colleagues of mine were working tirelessly to help neighbors move furniture from first levels to second levels.  In fact, one of my co-workers helped his neighbor's move a damn grand piano upstairs.

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Brand new homes as close as 1-mile away from our house, had been completely flooded and people had to be evacuated by boat.  More than 450,000 people had been evacuated in the area, and at least 100,000 homes had been impacted by floodwater.  More than 500,000 vehicles were totaled.  We gathered blankets and pillows, and bags of toys and games for donation to local shelters.

Because my office was closed all week, we made our way to a local shelter on Wednesday morning, and were happily surprised that the volunteers outnumbered the evacuees by at least 4:1.  We stood around twiddling our thumbs, and observed that donations of water supplies were so high they nearly reached the second floor.

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We dropped off our own bags of donations - toiletry items - to our church, and were immensely pleased to see the cars lined up around the block to drop off donations of supplies: diapers, formula, underwear, socks, and snacks for volunteers and evacuees.

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Thursday, we joined forces with local churches and our Boy Scout troop, to visit a neighborhood just down the road, that was devastated by the floods and this is when it really started to hit me, just how bad this situation was for people.  Armed with cleaning supplies, we walked from door to door, and entered those homes where we were needed.

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While Carolyn, Elizabeth and I, helped one family sort through their soaking wet clothes and movies; William and Henry took off with a group, and later told us over dinner that they had removed all the wood from the floors.  Henry said that a man handed him a crowbar and hammer and said, "Get all these floors up."   And so he did. 

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The particular homeowner that we were helping, had just moved to Houston six months ago with his wife and two young children.  They have no family in the immediate area, and their house is now unlivable.  We've offered, and they have accepted, to come live with us until they can get any necessary repairs completed.  Because of our house size, I think we can easily take in at least two families. If needed, the kids can sleep in our room (which is probably even more comfortable than the tent they slept in for the past month); and Charlie and I can try our hand at having a Bed & Breakfast.

After reading enough news articles and links that neighbors have forwarded, about the health hazards of demolishing flooded houses … I decided today that I'd rather take the children to a food bank to stock shelves and hand out food to those in need.

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On a typical month, this particular food bank distributes 900 bags of groceries to individuals.  In the past two days, they've distributed 800 bags, and their shelves are now virtually barren.

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If you are wondering how to help … here's an excellent cause:  Northwest Area Ministries.  (I see they haven't updated their website yet today, I know that they also need pasta, rice, dried beans, and tuna fish!)  Although I am a supporter of the Red Cross and various humanitarian organizations, given my proximity to the victims of this disaster - I am purchasing supplies and gift cards for people to use.  I'd rather know that any monies are getting directly to the people who need it.

Charlie, meanwhile, tackled some of the worst hit houses in our immediate area.  He had been skeptical about going, he is so busy with work - he didn't think he could take the time. Also, we have more than enough things to do at home.  But once he saw things himself, he intends to go back as much as he can - for as long as they need him.  For sure, he'll be there again, tomorrow.

And Sunday.

And Monday. 

The homes he visited had sustained eight plus feet of flooding.  Single story homes that didn't have a second level to move things to … homes that were occupied by people in their 70's and 80's and who wouldn't have been able to move things, on their own, even if they'd had a second floor.

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What we see firsthand, is that the need is so great here, that there aren't enough contractors to go around; and most people don't have the funds to hire help; nor do they have flood insurance.  So there are thousands of people that are out - volunteering their time to pull down saturated cabinets, rip up flooded carpets and floors, and rip out sheetrock and insulation.  Everyone who has lived through a flood knows that time isn't on our side, so we have to move fast before the mold sets in and homes are condemned.  The goal is to pull out the saturated materials and try to salvage what you can.

For those who aren't demolishing waterlogged houses, or working donation centers, they are shopping for supplies, making sandwiches, working shelters, and walking around neighborhoods handing out food.  Yesterday, I met a woman who was cruising around a neighborhood pulling a wagon that bore a huge pot of chicken and dumplings.   She said, "I know it's hot out, but Honey, you best believe me when I tell you that this will give you all the energy you need to keep going. Please, take a bowl or two." 

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Tonight over dinner, my husband was telling me that he understands how people can become addicted to helping others.  His team of workers (several men colleagues from my work that he joined) just arrived in a neighborhood, walked up a random front door and said, "How can we help?" 

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As I mentioned, the majority of people have no one to help, except volunteers. So he entered an elderly couple's house and although soaked, he said it felt like sacred ground. This was their home, and their entire life possessions had been destroyed.  

He went to their bedroom and took apart their disintegrating bed. He then opened their dresser, which completely broke apart in his hands. All of their clothes fell to the ground in a soaked heap, and the woman just whispered, "Please, throw it all away."  When he picked up her jewelry box, which also disintegrated in his hands, she again said, "Just throw it all away."

Charlie realized that the shock was so great, she couldn't comprehend any of it. So he gently said, "Wait a minute, hang on. Let's create a separate pile for 'I'll think about it' and let's just put any of the things that you might decide you want in that pile. Does that sound OK to you?"  She nodded and the very next item that they found was a saturated pocket book. Charlie glanced at the woman and when she nodded, he opened the clasp and pulled out $15.00 in soaked bills.  He gave her a wink and said, "See, look at this… I have a feeling your day is about to get a whole lot better!"  

It's horrible, it's devastating, it's overwhelming.

But it's also beautiful, kind, and inspiring.

That's what this is about: Standing shoulder to shoulder with people, and helping them through a time in life that is truly impossible to comprehend. For as much as I am discouraged by the immensity of this situation, I am also encouraged by the supportive community that has materialized all around us. It really has been a gift for us to be here, and experience it all first hand.  We are laying witness to Mother Theresa's observation, "We can do no great things; only small things with great love."

Everything really is bigger in Texas.

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The storms ... and the communities.

We sure have been flooded with love!