It is almost like finding oneself in Humpty Dumpty like brokenness and fearing that all the kings horses and all the king’s men will not be able to put Humpty Dumpty or Houston back together again. The Houston of tomorrow will not look like the pre-Harvey Houston for a very long time.
I just learned that the husband of a friend from high school was rushed to the hospital in Houston following a major heart attack. The roads were not yet closed and fortunately he was expeditiously transported to Houston Memorial Herman Hospital. Quadruple bypass surgery was scheduled for the next morning. Instead of surgery, the next morning brought closed roads and the hospital locked all doors. They are still in lock down mode and unable to get personnel in to the hospital – so the surgery is not yet scheduled. Hospital personnel who were on duty at the time of the lock down are still on duty. That adds a whole new concept to the term "double shift".
Yesterday a friend sent me a news link depicting the evacuation of one of her longtime family friends. I have been in the home of her friend on two different occasions. Once was over thirty years ago and the other was several months ago. The striking thing about the home that caught my attention the first time was the Persian rug in the living area. It is a very large room and the rug was probably in the neighborhood of 16’ x 25’ if not larger. Three decades later when I was in the home again, I was awestruck by the rug that looked just as it did when I first saw it.
As floodwaters in their neighborhood began to rise, the family noticed that the folks across the street were preparing to evacuate for higher ground. Unfortunately life circumstances for them were such that evacuation and relocation were difficult because the friend is under hospice care and confined to a hospital bed. The folks in the two-story house who were evacuating offered the second floor of their home as a possible solution even though there was already two inches of water covering their first floor.
The family solicited the help of a few men (total stranger) they’d never met who were walking down the street to assist in carrying the ill friend in her wheelchair through the water to cross the street. Of their circumstances a family member said: “There's fear to leave, there's fear to stay. That's not a good decision maker. Faith is a better decision maker than fear”.
Another friend and his wife found themselves in harms way. They evacuated first to a place of safety with simply the clothes on their back. The second location proved very temporary and evacuation by boat was mandatory. Unfortunately, the boat quickly filled and the friend, his wife and one other person were left behind with the promise that the boat would return.
How long it took, I don’t know, but he finally came to the awareness that the boat was not coming back. Seeing an air-mattress floating down the street, he managed to get his hands on it and his wife and the other person climbed on top as he walked and steered the floating mattress with two people safe above the waterline.
I can’t imagine the level of fear that must have been theirs. When you’re chest deep in water and there is “water, water everywhere” it has to be alarming. Eventually, they were able to climb over the railing of a bridge and subsequently find safety.
My heart goes out for the folks in Houston. Tomorrow will not look like yesterday. I’m not an engineer, but I suspect the major roadways that have been immersed in fifteen to twenty feet of water are compromised and will not be roadworthy.
Even after the water levels subside, what do people have to go home to? Flood restoration is a lengthy and expensive process. If you were the only person on the block needing assistance, you might find it quickly. When you're one of blocks and blocks and blocks of people in the same set of circumstances, where do you turn?
Some would respond that is why folks have home-owners insurance. Good luck with that? I don’t know that “flood insurance” is even an option unless you live in a flood plain, but my best guess is that most folks will absorb (pardon the pun) the associated costs of putting their homes back together with only the aid provided through FEMA. In essence, the help may feel like pocket change.
How many businesses in Houston are currently under water? The employees who work in those locations are not going to have a habitable workplace environment to return to for a very long time. If it really is true, most Americans are only at best about three months away from bankruptcy, the absence of employment for any appreciable amount of time will be life threatening in ways other than flood waters. How many of the 500,000 cars currently submerged in water are fully covered by a person’s insurance?
Harvey has left an indelible mark on Houston that will not be quickly forgotten. Humpty Dumpty like brokenness is a tough one, but on the positive side, the kindness of strangers who want to help is truly a lifeline from the outside. With that lifeline comes the presence of hope. I like the promise found in Isaiah: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze”. (Isaiah 43:2)
All My Best!
Don