Hurricane Rita: Preparations are underway at txyankee‘s for the imminent landfall of Hurricane Rita, now a Category 4 in the Gulf of Mexico. The first Rita-related casualty in Houston occurred late last night as txyankee performed battery inventory and accidentally dropped a C cell on my big toe. Near miss, near miss! Even funnier was the response I received from the lads on asking how large a generator I could get for $150, “One just powerful enough to plug a blender into. You can make margaritas!” A great idea, now what about wireless internet access?
Alright, enough slapstick. Mandatory evacuations have been called for New Orleans and Galveston. Houstonians, meanwhile, begin to worry/panic and employ themselves in various stages of preparedness including frantic shopping, boarding up windows, and planning pathways of evacuation. Strangely enough, txyankee’s Stepfordian neighborhood is located right by a hurricane evacuation route.
Houston Hurricane Evacuation Route Map
A number of locals called or emailed me to ask if I’m evacuating again and what should they do. This is my advice, with which I may start a nationally-syndicated column known as Dear Hurricane Girl,:
- Watch the hurricane’s path, strike probabilities and intensity,
- listen to what your local officials say about protection and evacuation,
- buy necessary provisions as we are right now (like liquid propane gas for the grill and lots of water),
- shore/board up your house. Be warned that plywood is getting scarce in and around Houston right now.
In the end, if you fear the worst, take everything that is important, place it in your car and go as far from here as you possibly can, especially if you have friends who will take you in. Just remember to breathe and stay hopeful through the experience.
txyankee just called to let me know that local home stores are nothing short of pandemonium, and that there are no generators to be had. Now, we concentrate on stocking up on grillables and pet food.
Are You Ready? – FEMA’s list of preparedness strategies from checklists to shelter
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Shell Contact During And After Rita: Shell offices in Houston are closed for the rest of the week. My boss just called to ask what my plans are for this hurricane. His next tasks are to get all of our new computers at Two Shell Plaza in downtown Houston moved to interior offices and to secure our Houston facilities. We didn’t know whether to laugh or … to laugh some more.
Should Shell employees want the status of our facilities and employees during and after the upcoming storm, they are asked to call the Facilities Status Line at (713) 241-2005 or the EP Employee Line at (281) 544-2436. Best of luck to all of you! Please stay safe – we’ve done it once, we can do it again.
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Light, Then Heavy, And Light Again: All is surreal. While frustration gallops in and out of center stage – even the meager plans that started to take effect a few days ago are tentative again – the ethereality is staggering. I respect Bill Murray, but not enough for us Katrina evacuees in Houston to star in our own version of Groundhog Day. Other evacuee friends and I may ride out this hurricane in our respective new homes (be they friends’ places or hotel rooms) or get in our cars and drive some more … what of those in shelters who are forced to move again? The prospect of another hurricane has to be toughest on those evacuees in Houston at the mercy of public aid. If they don’t go to Arkansas, as per Red Cross orders, they are on their own.
Mom called to tell me she’s thinking about me and that she expects my strength to shine through at this time. The dichotomous Hindu-scientist in her opined, “Perhaps this is when you work off your paavam (spiritual debts) from previous lives.” That’s one way to think about it.
While on the topic, does it mean something that the very first song on my iPod is Like The Weather by 10,000 Maniacs? And that I was practically skipping down Carondelet St. to that song on the Friday before the evacuation of New Orleans? It’s all my fault.
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A Take On Reconstruction From Grand Forks: Scientist friend, Jeffrey, lived in Grand Forks at the time of their disastrous flood and went through some of the same things as NO evacuees. He writes from gay Paris (full comment here):
We lived for a month in neighboring communities, not really knowing when we could return to even see our homes. Nobody could confirm what kind of damage occurred to their respective homes, so there was the very distinct feeling of floating in limbo, a prolonged period of shock. When we returned oy, what a mess. The first thing to remember in the aftermath is: buy gallons of bleach, tall rubber boots, and watch out for infection. My parents had 7 feet of raw sewage in their basement …
To me, the thing that made the renovation possible was really grass-roots community spirit. Everybody seemed to look at their neighbor, who was also wading through shit trying to pull together some semblance of normality in what was once home, and just ask if they wanted some help. You were exhausted and shocked at the situation, but you knew, so was everybody else. I don’t remember a large scale group-hug organized by the politicians, but neighbor [helped] neighbor, and that made the reconstruction possible. So watch your neighbors back, and give him or her a hand even when you might feel too tired to do so. The shared experience will pull you back up.
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Emile Francis’s Sousaphone Recovered!: (Thanks for the tip, Endoking!) Yesterday, the Houston Chronicle reported back on the status of the stolen minivan and antique sousaphone that belong to Emile Francis, a New Orleans evacuee in Houston. Houston police recovered the stolen van; the thieves hadn’t done a thing to the horn, fondly named Czar Sasha. I’m thrilled for Mr. Francis; good things do happen!
