To persevere

Persevere — to maintain a purpose in spite of difficulty, obstacles, or discouragement; continue steadfastly.

An old friend recently offered one simple word — the only word of comfort and advice she felt she could offer that was appropriate. Persevere she told me. I thought of that Thursday when we left mom’s house to go see my house and I looked up to see a squirrel scurrying across the power line carrying some food source in its mouth. That squirrel didn’t wonder why any of this happened. Nor did it sit back and wallow in the self-pity that can so easily come after such an event as a hurricane. That squirrel did the only thing it knows to do – scavenge for food so it can survive. And I realized that’s exactly what I have to do — take care of what faces me now and move forward.

Exactly two weeks after I boarded up my house, I returned to take down the boards and see first-hand the damage left behind by Hurricane Ike. Without question, Thursday was a tough day — the end of two weeks of wonder at exactly what the inside of my house looks like and what damage I sustained. Today, I feel a bit of relief, mixed with sadness, grief and a host of other emotions. But I know now that from this point forward I’m on the way to recovery.

Mom and I left San Antonio at 6 a.m. Thursday and returned sometime around 2 a.m. Friday. On the drive in, it was obvious that we were getting closer to the coast. As we approached Houston, we began to see tarps on roofs, fences being braced temporarily and trees down. The tarps became more frequent the closer we got to Galveston. The fences were soon just gone and not braced. And then we began to approach the causeway to Galveston and the signs of Ike were everywhere.

Debris still lined the freeway. Boats still washed ashore along the roadside. Piles of trash and debris sitting in front of houses. Every bit of greenery – now brown. Our wetlands leading into the island – brown. The trees that line Broadway, our main point of entry, stood without leaves.


It was sad. Terribly sad to see my island in such condition. A friend today told me that it’s considerably better than what it was when she first went back a week ago. There’s progress that can be seen she said. That amazes me. The pictures in the news don't even begin to convey what the island really looks like right now. Trees still sit uprooted around the block from me. My neighborhood looks like a slum out of some bad movie. Furniture. Appliances. Clothing. Personal effects. They all line the streets of my neighborhood while more is being add by people sporting the latest in island casual wear — waterproof boots, masks, heavy-duty gloves.

We got to mom’s house and found it to be in fairly good shape. In face, other than the place where she lost a window upstairs, the inside looks exactly as we left it last Friday. She did have a window blow out and it messed up her upstairs landing. She had a little flooding in her garage, but it mostly affected stuff I had left there. Her chimney is crooked, a piece of fence is broken and lots and lots of tree debris and other trash fill her yard. She took water beneath the house and likely lost one air conditioner unit and perhaps both. We are waiting on an electrician to inspect her property to determine the extent of that damage and how long it will take to repair. When the electricity is cleared at her place, we’ll move in there while my house makes its slow road to recovery.


About my house - it was bad. Nasty, slimy, smelly and trashed beyond comprehension. It's amazing what water can do, but I have been reminded that it was water that carved the Grand Canyon. The force of water is remarkable — items just floated through the house and landed in different places. The front door was blocked by living room furniture. My back door blocked by the refrigerator. My laundry room by the washing machine.



The stench of the air is indescribable. The best I can do is some blend of sewer and dead fish and something unidentifiable. It’s a dank nasty smell that just lingers anywhere in town where it flooded. My yard has about ankle-deep sludge settled on it. Some of it has dried on the surface while other areas are still soft and slick. It’s slipperier than any mud I’ve ever encountered. And it smells. Bad. When I opened the door to my house, I discovered that same mud providing a 2-3 inch coating on my floors. The smell permeated a mask and Vick’s VapoRub that I had smeared below my nostrils.



It was weird, the air in mom's house felt different. My house felt damp just walking in. Everything inside still feels damp. Mold had grown up some three feet on my walls already. Pieces of sheetrock were bubbled and peeling. A thick coat of the sludge lined any surface where water sat. Some containers still had water in them. Furniture was tossed and moved all over the house. Bookshelves collapsed. My piano not only was on its back but was also smashed. I had to move lots of furniture just to try to get around. Couldn't get in my front craft room/study because bookshelves collapsed and blocked the door. I could get in enough though to see my bike buried beneath the rubble. My bed blocked my bedroom door. The tub is coated in a nasty filth. Door were coming off the hinges.

Amid the rubble of my house, I would find strange little pockets were stuff was spared. A table floated just slightly away from the fall and none of the vases resting on it looked like they even moved. Two sand dollars that I had just sitting flat on top of my piano landed safely on the ground, still intact. A ceramic sculpture of my house that was on the piano again, landed safely and did not break. The piano is smashed but delicate items on top of it were safe. The behavior of the water is amazing. The big heavy furniture was thrashed about, but the small items that floated about were gently let down as the water receded.

A ring my father made remained in the glass container in which I kept it. Photo albums I placed on the dining room table survived for the most part. Those at the bottom of the pile received water, but the rest were dry. Much like pockets of the island that received no significant damage. You have to wonder.

I was able to meet with my flood insurance adjuster and will likely received the full amount of my insurance policy. Essentially my house was totaled in his professional opinion. The exterior of the structure is mostly unharmed – it’s just the inside that needs to be taken to the studs and renovated from the beginning, again. I’m still waiting to hear about my windstorm claim, the second of three insurance policies we have to have on our houses here. I’m hoping that will supplement with some external damage.

Not long after mom and I arrived at my house, a crew came by offering to clean up the landscaping debris in the yard and trim my trees. We went ahead and hired him on the spot, and from what I understand, my yard has already been cleared.

A friend who renovated my bathroom and kitchen has crews on the island offering clean up services. They arrived at the house today and will finish the job tomorrow. They’re cutting sheetrock up four feet. They’ll clean my floors. Trash the stuff that can’t be salvaged. They’re going through the pieces of my life that sat on shelves in boxes or piled in baskets. But my house will be clean and the next step is to get my furniture out of there into a controlled climate environment where it can dry slowly and where I can clean the mold off of it. If I can do that, I’m hoping that some of my old antiques can be salvaged.

My house will be emptied and renovated and it will be a fresh start. As with any loss, the time for grieving passes and the time to move forward comes slowly. But I’m closer to that point every day and I know that I will persevere, as will our tiny island. What choice do we have but to persevere?

NOTE: See pictures of the damage inside my house here.