Hurricane Harvey--everything else, mostly

I've lived on the Gulf Coast my entire life (apart from the three years in north Louisiana for college) and I have never seen a hurricane do what Harvey did.  Our first year at Louisiana Tech (heck...we had only been up there 2.5 weeks), both of our families evacuated to us as Hurricane Rita gave our home town, Lake Charles, a direct hit.  We stayed up watching the weather channel all night, a little bit in disbelief that Jim Cantore was standing in our city, trying to get as much information as we could.  My dad had to stay for work so we were talking with him as we could as well.  We woke up the next day to see absolute destruction.  Because of the dangerous situations that arose after Katrina, mandatory curfews were put in place for people who had stayed, and no one was being allowed back in for several days (mostly until they could clear roads from all of the trees and debris).  But we could see what had happened.  The people we knew who stayed were able to check on homes for us and friends, give us updates about what damage had been done.

My last year at Tech, Hurricane Ike once again directly hit our town.  We had put a contract in on a house in Bridge City--exactly where the tidal surge rushed in.  This time, it flooded the house we planned to make our home...Thankfully we were able to get out of that contract, but it definitely altered our life plans for the time being.  The plant where Hunter works also took a good bit of water and the problems that come with it, so he was working around the clock (as was everybody else in town).

The difference in these two and Harvey?  As soon as the weather cleared the next day (have you ever noticed that hurricanes always seem to hit at night??), people were able to asses the damage and start figuring out next steps.  With Harvey, many people were having to wait up to two weeks before they could even get to their homes and see what to do.  It was awful to talk to people a week later and ask how they were...and the response was, "well, we still can't get home so we don't know."  Orangefield, where we live, got right at 52" of rain; just over the bridge in Port Neches Groves got over 60" of rain.  It was absolutely unreal.

Now, it's been a year since Hurricane Harvey hit, but the damage he left in his wake is still very much a reality in this area.  Businesses and restaurants were closed for months on end, some unable to reopen at all.  Some friends of ours we just able to get walls back up in their house this month.  Hunter delivered some doors we were parting with to a family who wanted them--they were just now working on getting a front door up (and this was in August).  There are still campers in driveways, serving as temporary homes; there are still dumpsters and roll away bins scattering neighborhoods; there are contractors and construction teams working constantly on homes around town.

I was receiving money from so many people, some I didn't even know...friends and coworkers of my parents and sisters, friends of my in laws, congregations of people who know my family, high school and college friends, relatives I know well and some I don't, and the list goes on.  It was and still is literally unbelievable that my little Facebook pleas had a reach far enough to elicit that much response.  And it was an honor to be trusted with the mission of spending and delivering those funds wisely.

I will also tell you that I have never been so grateful for Facebook in all of its existence (and I've been on it since the beginning when it was just meant as a way for college students to connect).  It served as a major form of communicating rescues needed; it served as a very quick way to spread pictures and information about what was going on where; it was a very easy way to get in touch with people; and it was my only method of reaching out to ask for donations.

I quit keeping exact track of funds at some point.  But my best estimate of cash I received to help flood victims was around $10,000.  I am still blown away.

I had three families that continued to give monthly support for up to a full year after the storm.  I had a couple of congregations take up special donations and they sent those funds to me.  I had another congregation that for Christmas, adopted those five families we helped evacuate.  Their living room was full of gifts (toys for the kids, baby gear, dishes, pots/pans, towels, you name it...).  I even had a LuLaRoe supplier who collected donations from her group and mailed me a huge box of free LLR to give out to flood victims (I was able to give 3-5 pieces each to 14 women who had flooded!)  I was able to make four trips over to Orangefield (and bring a little to my Lumberton peeps) with food and supplies I had purchased with donations.  And I have been able to divide and place between 5 and 6 thousand dollars cash straight into the hands of a few families that flooded.  Incredibly humbling and incredibly exciting.

People are still good, y'all.  When I think about the money and donations people directed at me, I can hardly believe it.  But then I think about the bigger picture and how much money and time and resources were being donated along the entire Texas coast, and I can hardly wrap my head around it.  People are still good.

I mentioned in a previous post about the Cajun Navy and all of the amazing help those guys offered.  I also can't even tell you how many people we met from all over the country who literally hooked up their boats, started driving, and figured out where they could help once they got here.  Businesses were gracious in caring for their employees (I really do have to give a shout out to ExxonMobil and the way they handled this entire event.  They cared for their people above all else, and they went above and beyond to help them and the community.  They also played a huge part in getting water back to the city of Beaumont.  Hunter and I were both thoroughly impressed with them, and honored that he got to be a part of those efforts.)  Multiple organizations and church groups came in from all over the place to cook and hand out meals, to help gut houses and salvage what little could be, to offer hope and comfort and camaraderie in a time of deep loss.  Communities and neighborhoods and states banded together and bonded over tragedy and recovery--and those are bonds that will never be lost.

There will be more storms that come to our little part of the world and country.  That's part of living near the coast.  But I can tell you, that seeing firsthand how the people on this planet came together and truly loved each other through this one, we're all gonna be alright...

I know it was a lot to read (it was a lot to write too, haha...I didn't realize I had so much to say until I started typing), so if you hung with me, kudos to you and thank you.  Ours isn't even a story of tragedy (I know many, but those are not my stories to tell).  But this storm changed our lives and changed our communities and changed our lenses through which we view everything.  Hunter and I have never embraced "being Texans"...and probably never will :P  But what happened during this event and how people reacted and worked together made us proud to live in Texas...and how quickly and completely Louisiana jumped in to help made us proud to be from there.  Roots run deep...

A family friend embroidered these kitchen towels for me, my mom, and sister and mailed them to us as a sweet surprise.  It will always hang in my kitchen as a solid reminder of not only devastation, but of hope.  Of how to not only look for the helpers, but to be one.  Of how I saw God without a single doubt in the midst of all of that water...

xoxo, angie