I got to go out in the eye of Hurricane Alicia. That was kinda eerie, but it was nice to get outside with no wind or rain.
When I was growing up, it was always a given that we were leaving. Mother's rule. And it sure saved our behinds in Carla. As I became an adult and was able to make my own choices, I stayed for a couple (not direct hits that I can remember) without any consequence. Alicia is when I began to change my mind. I wasn't planning to leave, but I did just to ease my frantic mother's mind. It was scary where we went (Waller) with all the big trees around us. Driving home was unsettling, making us wonder all the more what was waiting for us. When they brought me back to my place, I realized my decision to leave probably saved my life. The apartment where I lived was hit by a small twister, and all kinds of debris (roof, ceiling, framing) fell in my bedroom and on my bed. The people in the apartment office were so glad to see me. They told me about checking out my apartment and fearing the worst when they saw all the debris on my bed. They were scared they'd find my dog and me dead underneath all of it.
In Rita, I went to my cousin's in North Texas. Timing is everything. The trip that usually took 5 hours actually took almost 6, but I was still at her house in time to watch the nightmare unfolding on I-45. Had I waited 20 extra minutes, I would have been stuck in that mess.
Left in Ike. Went to my friend's in northwest Houston. Turned out her neighborhood was torn up worse than mine, but living right on the coast, I wasn't willing to take any chances. I had no trouble getting back in. Good friends in Galveston were completely devastated. Lost a former co-worker on Bolivar Peninsula.
Harvey. What a storm. I didn't leave because it was going to go in farther down the coast. Then it did a strange move due to all the unusual atmospheric conditions in play.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGmAMW4MqFI Actually, I was in a sweet spot as my house is on the highest part of the street. I was a little nervous about my trees and got them thinned out right after the storm. Had the rain been as bad here as it was in Dickinson or Nederland or most of Houston, I don't know if I would have fared as well.
The deal with hurricanes is that you never know. You
can't know them. They're capricious. Far too many variables. This much I know. There's no possession in my house that's worth my life. If looters show up, they'll probably be disappointed. And I won't have the pleasure of planting some buckshot in their lawless asses. But I'll live another day, and that's what counts most to me. And my dog.
