I beat hurricane Ike in a race to Houston. Just barely though. My advantage was that I got on a plane and zoomed back home at the last minute. In my last post I mentioned that I was in Florida. Before I left Houston the storm was just entering the gulf. I didn’t feel good about leaving but I had to. I really needed to be in Florida and it looked like the storm was on a path south of here. Once I was in Florida I was so busy that I never saw any news and I wasn’t aware of the north-western turn it was taking.
Because I missed my flight out of Houston I had to stay and work an extra day in Florida. That extra day was Thursday the 11’th. That day I got a call from my Dad asking me if I was prepared for the storm and if not to get over to his house before it hit. Then I got a call from my ex-wife, the panic queen, asking me the same thing. All I could tell them was that I had booked a flight the night before for that very day, September 11 at 5:30 PM. They didn’t have any encouraging words for me. All they did was stress me out even more.
I got out of of the airport Friday night about 10:30 PM (we were grounded in Tampa because of lightening) and headed home. I stopped at the store next to my apartment and got some beer and a shitload of tuna, sardines and crackers. That’s all they had. Even though I had early Saturday to get whatever was left on the grocery store shelves, I wasn’t taking any chances like I did before Rita.
Saturday morning I brought in 30 gallons of water, 2 bags of charcoal, more non-perishables, ice and a little more beer which maxed out my ice chest. Please understand that hurricanes are like bowling, billiards, darts and fishing; They just aren’t the same without beer. It’s crucial.
I lost all power about 1:00 AM that night. I expected it. I spent the next four days staring out the window every day and reading by oil lamp at night. This was only a minor inconvenience. I still have food and a place to live. Those on Galveston Island and Boliver are suffering. Most of them have neither. I know what that feels like after riding out hurricane Celia in 1970.