Let me back up a bit. On the morning of Friday, September 1, chaos had already ensued. Harvey had pummeled through Rockport and Houston. Thousands of people had evacuated their homes, and many were aware of the despair awaiting them when they returned to their flood destroyed properties. Many in Southeast Texas were facing the same fates. Several of my Facebook friends had checked that they were safe. I always thought such check-ins were silly, but the morning before I gave in and made a post alerting friends and family that we were safe, dry, and still at home.
Friday morning, my husband, youngest child, and I took a short walk in our 'hood.' We were trapped in the neighborhood, as water had already flooded both entrances. The only way in or out was by boat or very high lifted truck. Our street and the one perpendicular to ours was dry. However, there was flooding in our backyard and our neighbors' backyards had water very near their back doors! We met various folks in the hood who were out and about assessing their properties and checking out the state of Wexford Park. The nearer we walked to our neighborhood entrance, the graver I felt inside. Thankfully, Harvey had come and gone twice, but as far as I knew, he wasn't coming back. We just needed to wait for the waters to go down and the nearby power station to dry out, and then we could resume our lives as usual.
Although, my husband and I felt safe, my mom did not. She had evacuated from Seabrook, where a mandatory evacuation was ordered. While she was sure my area would be hit, she felt safe enough at my house to bring her most important possessions. The neighborhood in its history of existence had never flooded, so she was good. My hurricane preparations were to make sure we had enough food and water. We had enough water, but not enough food should the electricity have gone out. I prepped in the past, only to be met with ridicule on social media for the panic that ensues folks when our area receives dangerous weather warnings. This wasn't their first go around. The area had seen Rita and Ike. But it was my first one as an adult. I grew up here, but left at 19, only to return 15 years later. After my last attempt at prepping, I realized I made many financial mistakes for a just in case. So, this time my preparations were minimal. I don't know why she felt fear. We were dry. I sympathized with her, but I couldn't make the decision to leave. We had everything we needed, and we were dry.
“I always thought such check-ins were silly, but the morning before I gave in and made a post alerting friends and family that we were safe, dry, and still at home.”
She felt I wasn't leaving, because my husband was unwilling to leave. So what followed the next several hours was projection of overwhelming fear, isolation, and anger. By this time my heart palpitations had stopped, but it left me utterly exhausted. I needed sleep. I felt I truly could not help anyone in any way, because I was depleted. It is a strange feeling- wanting so much to give, but having not even a drop for loved ones. My poor children were neglected and left to their own devices and hopefully self soothing tools were utilized. My mom stayed on one end of the house alone, and my husband the other. I had nothing!
It's true, I didn't want to leave without him, but for most of Friday, I felt we were good. Although the water was deep on both ends of the road I take to get out of Wexford Park, and that provoked a feeling of uneasiness, I wanted logic to take the reigns and not my emotions. I announced it was nap time for me in the late afternoon.
I awoke during the 5 o'clock hour. My mom was gently nudging me to inform me I needed to go outside. Oh boy! The road perpendicular to my cul-de-sac, my out, was now almost fully flooded too! We were still dry. What was going on? It had stopped raining days ago. My oldest child, youngest, and I headed a little ways down the road that was still dry. We talked to an elderly couple and met up with my neighbor.
This particular neighbor had lived across from me for about a year. I never once said hi to her. I felt awful for not being neighborly, but approached her nevertheless and introduced myself. She was feeling pretty much the same as me- want to leave, but want to stay. We exchanged Facebook information, because it really does seem that is the easiest way to keep in touch nowadays. Wexford Park has a secret Facebook group, which I had been a member of since I moved into town in 2015. For the most part, I felt the group was annoying and petty, as every 'stranger' that entered WP (Wexford Park) was spied upon, announced via post, and many of the regulars loved to joke about how they would take care of the unwanted visitor. While the neighborhood is older, there are many young families living here, as this seems to be the 'rich neighborhood of Vidor,' as told to me by a friend and Vidor native who does not live in WP, when I bought my house. So, it's not like they don't have anything better to do, but seriously I didn't enjoy the group much at all. However, of all the information I scanned Facebook for during the week of Harvey and his aftermath, that WP secret group was my go to. There were tons of valid information pouring in. In other groups, information was conflicting and chaotic. Those in the hood who are in the Facebook group came together in a way I would expect and hope community would come together in times likes this. So my faith had be renewed, and I most definitely participated in group conversations during Harvey's stay. I wanted to connect with Chrissy, my neighbor via Facebook, because I felt it vital she join the group. Her family moved from Oklahoma to WP, and for the most part, in the short intro we exchanged Friday afternoon, I learned she had no friends or support system here. I felt awful for not meeting her earlier, even before I met her. My excuse was that I was just too absorbed with my own life. But we met, exchanged info, and pretty much vowed to keep tabs on one another and get through this together. She decided to stay outside a bit longer, but I was ready to go back in. I was scared at this point.
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