I’ve Been Wondering…
September 13th, 2010 | 
Author: I’ve been thinking a lot about Hurricane Ike recovery these days. On the two year anniversary since the storm, I wonder how people are doing, really.
There are some responses like, “We’re glad to be back, but we’re still innundated with stuff to do.” And others say they’re still reeling from some of the bureaucracy. Still, others talk about how difficult times are, how they’ve accrued what seems like endless debt, and how business has not been the same since the storm (unless they own a series of large hotels or restaurant chains along the Seawall).
I wonder how the average person is doing, two years later. Are you still having flashbacks of stuff on your lawn? 
How has Ike enriched (yes, enriched) your life? For example, I now know that I can live with a lot less stuff than I had before Ike. I call that an enriching experience.
How are you still dealing with the after-effects? Are you working as much? Are you still unpacking? Do you still have nightmares? Are you closer with your neighbors if you’ve moved back to the island? Are you living on the mainland now, or farther? How has your professional life changed? How have your children changed?
And if you weren’t personally affected, how was your life touched by Ike? Do you even remember it, or does Hurricane Katrina still stand out for you as the worst one?
If you had one piece of advice for people who need to evacuate before a storm, what would it be?
Share your story. I, for one, want to know.
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As with other disasters that happen around me, I am personally unaffected, yet still affected.
I evacuated, and returned to a home protected by the 60’s leaders of TC who had the foresight to push for construction of the seawall that protected our home and industry, this time anyway.
My church FPCTC gave up space to quarter the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance village, where mission workers have come and helped with a few rebuilding projects. We’re glad to make the offer, and disappointed there haven’t been more respondents.
We also housed Emmanuel Presbyterian Church for 2 years until their recent return to their Island home sanctuary (Yea!).
As we visited the annual Advent Pilgrimage of historic Galveston churches, we were again reminded of the continuing road of reconstruction, and reminded to be grateful for what we take for granted; structures, community, heat.
My Santa project last week was to uproot and deliver for transplanting 7 Republic of Texas native orange trees from my flower bed to a house on Post Office who had lost their fruit trees. Connected only through a Facebook acquaintance, my mini-retreeing of Galveston gesture.
As far as advice, I share instead the following musings, penned 9/20/05.
Awaiting Hurricane Rita
Hurricane Katrina refugees are just beginning to settle in,
Transitioning from shelters to apartments,
To temporary jobs that may become permanent,
Into new communities, newly touched by their presence,
Their stories, our purpose to outreach, to hope.
And now, Rita approaches.
Refugees evacuate their shelter in Galveston early on.
They know the process, and the potential consequences.
At my workplace, the tall towers of the photos are silenced in preparation.
No gasoline flows to the pipeline connecting us to the nation,
Supplying their needs for normalcy.
No, we are shutting down, bracing for the blast our neighbors received.
Now our turn.
Care and educate the young adults I supervise,
Most just a few years out of dormitory life, Now making judgments, decisions.
Be safe. Take care.
And now to shore up the homefront;
Care and place the elders, Mom left town this morning for inland refuge,
Lucky to have a place to go, to land.
What to take, what to save? What will be left if left behind?
What really matters? How to decide?
Walking through the house with eyes imagining water 3 feet deep,
What is lost? Do I care?
Electronics to be replaced, pictures of relatives gone, to not.
As George Carlin chides, “all my stuff”.
And strangely I find myself in a state of calm disengagement.
None of it really matters.
Empty suitcases stand waiting.
What to take, to be able to bring with, to bring back, to what?
My most comfortable jeans? Yes.
A dress presentable to attend worship? Yes.
My musical instruments? Yes.
A Bible? The one that rides in the truck with me daily will do.
For now, a steak (as we’ll lose the freezer for sure),
A glass of good wine, a good movie,
An evening of calm before the storm. Send prayers.
In anxious peace, Sue September 20, 2005