It
has been almost a month since Hurricane Harvey decided to take a break and sit
over our area for a few days, dumping buckets and buckets of rain. As I read the newspaper this morning I had a
flood of my own … of memories from 2008 when we were experiencing the same
things in the aftermath of Hurricane Ike.
I read an article about an apartment complex in Dickinson very close to
where we were mucking out homes right after the storm. Seems it still has people living amidst the
stench and debris and mold. The city
fire marshal has just ordered all of the electricity shut off to the
complex. The folks who remain are living
there at their own risk. The owner isn’t
charging them rent. They have nowhere
else to go. The city and a church went
through and talked to the people, and presented them with some
alternatives.
My
mind returns to the folks we are helping over in Alvin. The homes they are in were built many years
ago, some appear to date as far back as the 1930’s. Some are tiny one-room shanties. All are seriously flood damaged. Many are unquestionably uninhabitable. And yet the people remain, doing what they
can to sort through belongings and move on to the demolition stage, hoping that
their home’s structure will withstand the flood effects.
Other
people are still “camping out” in area hotels.
They have been officially informed that FEMA has denied their
application for assistance, so they must figure out some way to come up with
another deposit and first and last month’s rent, a daunting task. And it’s not just a few people involved
here. Across the region we are talking
about hundreds. It’s overwhelming.
Some
of the areas affected by the river flooding and the subsequent dam water
release are just now returning to their homes.
A new wave of need has arisen in those areas, like Lake Jackson. More and more reports of damage are coming in
from smaller communities like Liverpool.
As I mentioned
earlier, a friend of ours in Dickinson has been driving her vehicle since the
storm, albeit rather tentatively. The
other day when we went by there the car was being towed away. The insurance company determined that because
the electrical system was under water, the car was a total loss. Now she is without transportation. The rental agencies in the area are swamped
with requests, so she has to wait in line.
And that is but one transportation story among literally hundreds.
Relief
agencies are on the ground, trying to help.
But here’s the thing. Except for
Dickinson, there really has been no real connection made between the agencies
and the off the map needs I have been describing. It’s just that the damage is so widespread
that it seems impossible to find everyone.
I have been encouraged, though.
As I have been receiving names and addresses and contact numbers, I have
put them in touch with the agency stationed here in Galveston.
Meanwhile,
many folks have moved beyond the immediate muckout stage and are waiting to
rebuild. For some that means simple
things like sheetrocking and repainting.
For others it means an entire electrical rewiring and a new roof and new
windows and siding, not to mention new furniture and appliances. And decisions. Decisions.
Decisions. Day after day of
decisions. And of course where they go
with all that is dependent on insurance claims and deductibles and whether the
mortgage company will be cooperative in handling those insurance checks that
have to go through them first, since they hold the title to the property.
For
some their job – and their paycheck - is on hold as the business also deals
with the flood aftermath. For others
lucky enough to still have a job to go to, they find that their day care is no
longer in operation, or it has moved to an entirely different area.
And as
the days march on, other questions arise.
“So, what about that windbreaker I used to wear when winter hits
southeast Texas and the temperature reaches a chilly 69 degrees?” That’s gone.
“Hey, Thanksgiving is just around the corner. Who can host this year?” Certainly not us. Oh, and Christmas. “I can’t even begin to think about
Christmas. All I can think about is
trying to keep up with the contractor and what comes next.”
I don’t
mean to present a totally negative, hopeless picture of the situation
here. I just wanted to let you know that
for the individual, real people stuck in the midst of it, there is more to this
disaster event than just taking a deep breath, saying a prayer of thanksgiving
that you and your family are safe, and choosing to fight back. That “fight back” is a long process. But it can be done. Keep yourself healthy. Eat right, even if it means standing in line
at the Salvation Army or Red Cross truck.
Find one thing every day to laugh about.
Celebrate one memory every day.
As you wade through the seemingly never-ending “todays,” close your eyes
and see a few “tomorrows” as well. And
get excited about them. Oh, and it helps
if you don’t try to do it alone. Hug
someone you love every day. Reconnect
with God and start every morning by touching base with him. He gives out some pretty special hugs, too.
Impossible
situation? No. Philippians 4:13 says, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.”
Father,
there are a lot of people around who really need your hugs. Please be free with them Amen.
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