Hurricane Harvey--our aftermath story

So Wednesday morning, I couldn't put my phone down. Between talking to Hunter and my sister and checking in on every person I could think of, it was like a lifeline for me.  A close friend of mine lives down a road right on the bayou (and her parents are next door), so I had been checking on them pretty regularly.  The night before she had sent me a picture of her standing in her house with water up to her ankles.  That morning she sent me a picture of their flooded house from the boat they were using to evacuate.  It gutted me.  The pictures on the news was one thing; but this was a house I had memories in.  These were people I cared about deeply and my heart absolutely ached for them.  Thankfully her parents had stayed at the fire station (she works there) so they were safe; but their house had also flooded.  Right around the corner from them was a friend of ours who posted pictures of her kayaking out of her kitchen with the last of what she could save, and then a view of their roof from the street (which was now a lake).  Gut wrenching.  Another friend is a nurse and she had gone into work--and then couldn't get back home.  Her husband works at the refinery and had also gone in and couldn't get home.  So they were both stuck in Beaumont while their two kids were stuck in Silsbee.  Some friends of ours in Vidor had flooded (her husband was away for work so it was just her and her adult son)...that's only about a 10 minute drive from our house and they needed help.  I told Hunter and asked if he could go get them and let them stay at our house--but he told me there was no way to get to them (even though they seemed so close in my mind). Every single person I checked in with told me their story...and every single one broke me inside.

These pictures are of Interstate 10 near Winnie.

Like I said in the previous post, it was overwhelming...and I felt helpless...

At about 8:00 that morning, a friend of mine from high school wrote me on Facebook to check on us and see how we had fared the storm.  We chatted back and forth a bit... and then he did something I would have never ever expected.  He offered me their house.  They were leaving on vacation, and if I could find anyone who needed a place to stay, he and his wife wanted to open their house to them.  I was absolutely floored--and of course immediately started crying (as you can tell, I'm a crier, haha).  But then I got to work.

See the hard part wasn't finding someone who needed help--it was getting them across the state line.  Even getting to the next town seemed impossible.  So even though I had so many people I could have put up in that house, I was struggling to find someone who could feasibly get to it.  And then my curriculum coordinator when I had taught posted that they and all of their kids had flooded.  She was close to Orange, so much closer to Louisiana than my Lumberton people.  We went back and forth a little bit trying to figure out how to get them there, and for a while we didn't think it was going to be possible.  And then out of the blue, she said they had found a ride to Lake Charles and they were starting the process of heading that way.  Now don't fool yourselves and think that this was easy to do...we're talking 12 adults (1 pregnant), 2 small children, and I think 11 dogs.  They were rescued by boat, had to walk to the shuttle, and wait and wait and wait.  They decided to rent a truck since they had no vehicles, and they also reserved hotel rooms for that first night since they had no clue when they'd actually make or nor what shape they'd be in when they got there.

I finally felt like I could do something and it snapped me out of my wallowing.  I immediately reached out asking for anyone to donate money or supplies or food if they were able and willing.  My sister and I went shopping to get immediate needs for this family coming over (snacks, diapers, drinks, anything we could think of).  We made a huge pan of spaghetti for supper for them and were so excited to get the call that they had made it over.  As soon as I heard her voice, I cried again...there was something so special about knowing what they had been through and knowing I was about to get to see her face.

My sister and I got to the hotel that night and I will never forget the look of their faces coming out of that hotel room or the hugs we all got.  Tragedy will bond you with community like nothing else.  We took all of their wet clothes home and washed them (they had literally grabbed a change of clothes each and left...I cannot imagine) so they would at least have another clean set for the next day.  Their sweet little four year old was starving and kept hugging me and my sister asking if we had brought her food (they said when she got up to the room she ate, I think, three plates!).  We got them situated, and then my sister and I took all of their dogs up to a kennel in Ragley.  Again, the same friend had some connections and was able to find a lady with a kennel business who was willing to take care of all of these animals.  We were going to work it out somehow, but this was just amazing and more than we could have dreamed.  They were wet and scared too, and had been kenneled (multiple dogs per travel kennel) for a long time.  I don't even like dogs...but it was so sweet to see them relax and get excited and fed.

This family came and stayed back at my parents house the next night until my friends left for vacation.  They were able to relax and decompress and be together.  We also added my GT coordinator and her daughter and grandson to our group that day.  She had driven through higher water than she should have, but she made it.

Now that they were settled, it was back to my phone and figuring out how I could get home to help there.  They issued a warning that if you stayed once the rescues were over, you needed to be self-sustainable because you'd be on your own.  Several people on our road had stayed, so when I talked to Hunter, the biggest thing they needed was food.  Supplies weren't in high demand yet because people still couldn't get in their houses.  The roads were clearing up some, but the water was still very high.  AND as if all of this wasn't bad enough, the powers that be were saying that both the Neches River dam (Dam B) and the Sabine River dam (Toledo Bend) were going to have to be opened....which was going to send unimaginable amounts of water to our already flooded area.  There was going to be a little window that weekend that we'd be able to make it over (going around some back ways because the highway to our house was no where near opened) before they released the dams and who knew what would happen.  So I got to work gathering donations and food.

I had so many people reaching out to offer help.  It is literally the most humbling experience in my life.  I had received at least $1000 within those first two days, so I headed to SAMs to load up.  One of the guys from the family we had been able to get across was willing to drive my dad and I to my house on Friday in the truck they rented.  It was a lifted diesel so it could handle the water we still had to drive through (and it wasn't a personal vehicle so we wouldn't be as worried).  We loaded down with water and gatorade, 15 gallons of milk, dozens of eggs, apples, vienna sausage, granola bars, chips, lunch meat, bread, and any non perishable item SAMs had.  Early Friday morning, we loaded up the truck and headed home...

The police and military (I think National Guard) had set up a checkpoint at the last Louisiana exit on I-10, and if they didn't let you through, you didn't get to Texas.  I was a little unnerved about this part, but the guy driving us had gone through it the day before ok.  We had to wait in line a bit, but all they did was ask where we were going, took a look at the truck loaded down with ice chests and bottled drinks, and let us right through.  Then we had to figure out where to go from there.  We took several different paths to see which roads were open.  There was still SO much water everywhere, even though it had gone down significantly by that point.  We tried to go down our highway first, but didn't get far at all.  There's an Expo center not even a mile up the road, and it had been set up as headquarters.  There were soldiers and trucks and game wardens with boats and policemen all over the place.  That sight hit me like a ton of bricks.  My little road home looked like a battlefield...and in a lot of ways, it was.

The highway to my home...both shoulders looked like this for at least half a mile--all the way to the flooding.

So we turned around and tried road after road, driving through some water here and there (and being very thankful for that lifted truck).  There were businesses with glass busted out, no electricity in places, stranded cars on the sides of the roads and some in the most random places (just dropped where the water left them).  It was a lot to take in.

We finally made it to my house--my boy was hard at work making calls (he was put on the team to help assess and assist affected ExxonMobil employees, specifically at his plant.)  He was smelly and a little gross (let's remember we had no sewer), but he was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen.  When he finally got off the phone and we were able to hug and talk a little...I'll never forget that feeling.  **I walked around our house and saw all the signs of his efforts and some fear.  Everything we owned that could be lifted (so our moving boxes and smaller furniture) were up on top of the bar or the kids' bunk beds.  The most impressive sight?  My large, solid wood, full of blankets/quilts hope chest was on top of our high King Sized bed.  He had lifted that thing that high alone--if that's not a sign of pure adrenaline, I don't know what is.**  Then he went back to work making calls, while dad and I went to work setting up my house like a makeshift one stop shop.  I sent out the message on our neighborhood Facebook page and texted the few neighbors whose numbers I had to spread the word.  People we probably would not have met, but live on a different part of our same street, started showing up one by one.  They were so grateful to have some food (especially milk, bread, and eggs!).  People who had survived a hellish four days, and every single one of them tried to pay me for this.  They were almost as shocked as I was that we had received so many donations.

One of my favorite stories of connection happened this day.  A friend of mine from church in Lumberton who at the time lived in Dubai (right?!) posted on Facebook that her niece in Bridge City needed help.  I wrote and told her I was on my way and to send her to me.  She sent me the contact info, I called her, and she was going to stop by with her daughters before we headed back to Louisiana.  When she walked in my house, she looked at Michael, the friend who had driven us over and they both said, "What are you doing here?!"  They go way back and are close family friends--and we connected together that day through her aunt completely around the world!  I just loved it.

This little "home store" not only gave us the chance to meet a lot of our neighbors, it also set us in touch with some people in other neighborhoods as well.  Too, we met several people who were members of one of the churches we planned to try when we moved (and that congregation's response to Harvey is absolutely the #1 reason we went there first and are still attending a year later).  Side note:  Hunter and I prayed when we moved here that we would be given an opportunity to get to know our neighbors and figure out some ways we could love on our new community.  Well, the Lord delivered in a big way...  Be careful praying for big things, haha ;)

I asked what some specific needs were to each family that passed through and went home on a mission to bring back as much as I could as soon as I could.  Luckily, that chance came on Sunday.  This time we brought more milk, bread (this was even hard to find in Lake Charles), lunch meat/hot dogs, and eggs.  But we also started bringing clean up supplies.  As the waters were slowly receding a few people were starting to be able to get in their homes--and I don't know how much all of you know about flooded homes, but the sooner you get in and get them gutted, absolutely the better.  So my parents and I drove back over again Sunday with another load...and again, every single person tried to pay.  Humbling.  Hunter had gone in to work that day for a meeting and to work out some remediation details (and to deliver water--I also forgot to mention that the entire city of Beaumont lost potable water.  That means the hospitals, nursing homes, refineries, and every single home had no water.  It was awful.)  As he was coming home, I started seeing posts that the Neches River bridge was flooded and closed (remember they were releasing the dam?  So now, five days later, we're dealing with a whole new round of flooding) and I was seeing posts that they were closing the Rainbow Bridge in Port Neches as well.  These were his only two ways to get home.  And I started freaking the crap out.  Luckily he barely made it before they closed the Rainbow Bridge (he had to do a little coaxing to get the cop to let him through).  But he made it home.  This time I got to spend the night at my new home (that at this point I had only slept in for nine inconsecutive nights) and my parents went back to their house to keep my kids. I was unbelievably grateful for this.  We went to a neighbor's house and ate dinner (he had been doing this every night), so it gave us a chance to have fun and laugh, as well as a chance for me to get to know everybody.  He brought me back to my parents house the next day so he could see our kids (that was such a sweet reunion), but then he drove back home after supper.

*"Fun" Fact from I-10 flooding near the Neches River (due to the dam release).  It was absolutely awful because it completely flooded Rose City, a tiny little town just before Beaumont.  However, when the water finally receded, the problem came with the interstate cinder blockades...  They were acting as a dam and refusing to allow the water on the south side of the interstate to flow back naturally.  So they had to use dynamite to explode a hole in some of those, letting the water go.

The highway to our house stayed closed and had water covering it for 9 days after the storm.  This whole time, I also desperately wanted to get to my people in Lumberton and Silsbee but there was no physical way for me to get there until the Thursday the week after the storm.  Getting my hands on my people up there who had flooded (and all of my friends who hadn't) was a feeling like no other.  We worked with the church up there a bit, getting volunteers in, meals cooked for those volunteers, supplies to my people, and unloading supply trucks from a disaster relief organization.  Hunter was helping gut houses once people could get into them; I was helping go through and salvage what had been taken out.  It was hard work, it was hot work, it was exhausting and taxing on the body and the emotions.

The kids and I ended up staying at my parents' house for 12 days.  We could have gotten home a couple of days sooner, but I was getting a lot of shopping and collecting done in Lake Charles/Sulphur that I couldn't count on over there yet (and I had help over there).  When we finally made it home it was such a relief, but we also had a pretty big wave of "survivor's guilt".  Every single place you looked for almost three months had people's entire homes and life stories piled on the side of the road.  Massive black waste trucks from all over the country passed by endlessly, gathering what they could as they could.  For three months.  It was a daily heartbreaking sight.

Mail and garbage pick up didn't run for weeks.  Many schools were cancelled indefinitely as the districts tried to figure out what they could do when entire campuses were completely unusable.  Even the districts who started just a little late had to keep in mind that even though the school didn't flood, many of their students' homes did.  Many schools were having split days (ex: some grades go 6-11 and some go 12-5).  Several schools were meeting in church buildings--teachers would have to bring in what they were using that day and take it back out every single day.  In Orangefield, the Elementary flooded almost completely, and the high school sustained a good bit of damage.  So Arabella was supposed to start school on August 28, and ended up finally starting on September 25 (and we had no idea of a start date until the 21st).

Tiny baby Kindergarteners at big ole Junior High tables...

Since the elementary campus was out of commission, they had PK-6th at the Junior High and 7-12 at the high school (with plywood up as makeshift repairs).  We walked Bella in for her first day and saw the gym separated into 4-6 classrooms by hanging blue tarps.  The band halls, foyers, gyms, libraries were all converted to classrooms, most of them housing multiple classes at a time.  As a former teacher...I.Cannot.Imagine.  They also weren't allowed to do anything that required the students to have money--so no field trips (we did get to go to the park at the end of the year), no parents at class parties, no fundraising...a much different Kindergarten year than we had expected. We were finally able to move K and 1st over to the elementary after spring break (mid-March), but the building was still blocked off except those two little halls (and the walls were plywood, some of the floor is pulled up and hasn't been replaced, the "gym" was a blue tarped off area in the cafeteria...).  This year, most of the grades are back at the Elementary campus (with the help of some granted temporary buildings), but things are still no where near fixed.  But those teachers and administration and students are going with it and making the best of what they have.  Resiliency at its finest.

We are stronger than the storm...

xoxo, angie