Hurricane Ike

Hurricane stories. . .

I woke up at 1:13 am Friday morning to the frustrated cry of (*&%!@#*. That's when the power went out effectively shutting down the X-box.

It's hard enough to sleep through a storm when the wife keeps asking, "What was that?" (It's a hurricane dear. . . It's a squirrel skidding across the roof. . . It's the neighbor's hurricane fortification empties plinking against the house one at a time) It's even harder when the cell phone towers don't fall and the kids keep texting to let you know they are still alive. Yeah, I love you too, now go to sleep.

Kid one stayed at the UH dorms during the storm. He didn't lose power, internet, cafeteria service. . . Kid two, the one who came home, realized that while we had food, we had no power (no x-box, no AC, no internet. . .) See ya. . . gotta go "study."

After the storm, my wife and I were riding bikes through the neighborhood to see the damage. There's an old woman leaning on her walker in her driveway talking to a neighbor and looking at all the debris on her lawn. We stop and volunteer to come by the following morning to clean it for her. The next morning there are bags out and all the branches and leaves have been raked into small piles; apparently her neighbors felt a little guilt and gave us a head start.

We also ran into two women who are cleaning the yard of the house directly behind ours. The house belonged to their grandmother who died months earlier. These two women flew in from Seattle on Thursday to clean the house and get it ready. They had no idea that a hurricane was coming so you can imagine their shock Friday when the winds picked up. They seemed a little shell shocked so we offered them food.

Everything can be cooked on a two burner Coleman stove.

A family from the church sent out an email to the whole congregation asking for help with their fence. Hurricane Ike took out their 18 foot privacy fence and there was this terrifying image of people being able to look right into the house. I bowed out when I discovered that the fence was 18 feet high and not 18 feet long. Wouldn't it be easier to tape foil over the windows?

I'm thinking I could make a fortune conducting a workshop called "How to Work the Four-way Stop."

As I'm leaving the grocery store a mother and daughter are walking in. Sitting on the sidewalk, next to the electrical outlets are a couple of old men with their cell phones plugged in. Little girl says, "MY GOD MOM, ARE PEOPLE THAT DESPERATE TO MAKE CELL PHONE CALLS?" I'd have been disciplined on the spot and made to apologize.

About five days after the storm I decide that I really should do something about that fence along the driveway and head to Lowes. I load 100 pine planks and a dozen 2x4's on one of those carts (plus a new saw because each project requires a new tool -- it's a law). I'm sweating. I push the cart to the curb and load everything into a CR-V. Now I'm soaked. As I'm unloading the lumber my neighbor walks up the driveway with his drill and saw. He's tired of just sitting around and wants to know if he can help. We're nearly finished -- okay, finished isn't exactly the right word -- when I realize that I'm about 30 planks short of a fence. Wife volunteers to go pick up the wood. She's back in 15 minutes and doesn't look tired at all. The nice men at the store (the same ones who watched me) loaded the wood onto the cart and then into the CR-V for her. Next time, I'm sending her to get all the wood.

Note added November 27, 2008 -- The doorbell rang around 9:00 pm. Irene, who is in her 90's and whose yard we cleaned after the hurricane, was there with a poinsettia, a thank you gift.