In the Path of Ike: Hurricane Ike Lays Waste

Houston, Texas - Ike has come ashore and barreled through Houston leaving devastation in its wake. Much like his namesake, Ike Turner, he kicked ass and took names. Amid numerous Ike and Tina jokes on the still dark streets of my neighborhood, we chow down on our hydrogen heated Army MRE's and tell ourselves it's tasty and this is an adventure. From various corners of the neighborhood, the tinny roar of chainsaws can be heard as people cut away the many trees that litter the area. Without lights, we sit outside and wage war against the mosquitoes, who have moved into the area like an occupying force. They recognize we are battle weary and make their inroads.

The lucky have their generators happily humming, while they make frequent runs to the gas station in the hopes of keeping them chugging along. I have become reacquainted with the joys of public transportation. My car was a casualty of the storm. Taking on water, much like the Titanic, it has not uttered a word in as many days as I have been without lights. Eleven days seems inordinately long to my way of thinking. As my trash grows fetid with the contents of my refrigerator, I try to figure out how to navigate this landscape.

Hunkered down, Bunkered in

I was one of the many who chose to stay. In retrospect, I know it to be a fool's errand. I did it because I have a number of dogs and none are crate trained and it just seemed hard to try and navigate with them. However, it was foolhardy on my part. That knowledge comes to me as hindsight. I arrived at this conclusion when I realized how truly close to the ship channel I actually live. I knew it was in the area but only when riding with a friend through the back way of my neighborhood did I realize that it is very, very, uncomfortably close. When I consider how close the Port of Houston is to my home, it is amazing that there was no flooding in my neighborhood. There was high water, as my car will attest, but no water in homes, except for those with the roofs torn off.

Looking back, I understand that if this happens again, I will pile the dogs in the car, much like those clowns pile into Volkswagons at the circus. Though my damage was minimal by the standards of those in Galveston and other locales further south and east, I just don't think I would chance it again.

Still Blessed in Spite of

In times like these, platitudes flow off the tongue like water flowed over the seawall. It could have been worse. We're blessed that things weren't as bad as they could have been. All of that is true, but when you're the one without a car as others seem to drive up and down the road simply because they can, it kinda gets to you. When all around everyone seems to have lights and life is moving on, one can't help but feel forgotten. That being said, I understand the depths of our blessings. There was no flooding, in spite of us being very near the Port of Houston. The wind downed plenty of trees but very few actually landed on homes in our area. Many around suffered far worse than we and for that we extend out sympathies while we count our blessings.