Rita was a bust. After a week of doing nothing but watching the news, preparing for the “Big One” I must say, I’m a bit disappointed by the outcome. Wednesday night I was almost in a state of panic at the thought of that monster making landfall in Galveston. I made a mad dash to Wally World to stock up on supplies, and it was the first time of my life I had ever seen the food shelves almost completely bare. No bread, no canned goods, no cereal, no granola, no chips, no dried fruit, no trail mix, and absolutely no water. While standing in the water isle contemplating what I was going to do (it later hit me that I could fill up buckets and bottles with filtered tap water) I heard a guy say, “Well, there’s no water but at least there’s still plenty of beer left,” and he loaded two 12-packs into his empty basket. I, instead, opted for champagne. I got back to my mother’s house, boarded up the windows, filled up the buckets, filled up the bathtub, brought all the plants and lawn furniture inside and braced myself for the biggest storm I thought I would ever see in my lifetime. The neighbors to the left and to the right had decided to evacuate and my family and I wondered if we should do the same even though we were in North Houston miles away from the coast. After seeing Houston’s freeways turned into a nightmarish, citywide parking lot during what was the biggest evacuation in America’s history, we opted to stick it out where we were. It was a category 5 heading right for us, a monster of a storm, and then, it turned. By the time the storm made landfall as a category 3, we were so far out of its path that we barely even got any rain. I’ve seen severe thunderstorms do more damage to Houston than Rita. The only thing Rita managed to do was cancel any job prospects I had at the time.
September 25, 2005