I remember thinking that this time, it was different. As a lifelong Houstonian, I’d lived through other storms, two of which had left my husband stranded on the freeway for hours in the not-too-distant past. (Welcome to Houston, newbie!) But there was something so ominous and sinister about Hurricane Harvey even before the storm reached Texas.
Mario and I closed on our first house two weeks before Harvey made landfall. We knew our area didn’t have a history of flooding, but that didn’t mean we weren’t terrified. I think we each went to the grocery store twice to stock up on water and non-perishables. Days before the city shut down, the shelves were already emptying. We didn’t have living room furniture, or internet, or a washer dryer, or much of anything, really. But dammit, at least we had food and water.
By Saturday, August 26, 2017, all of Houston was hunkered down at home, ready to wait it out. The rain was relentless. There was the occasional break, but it just kept pouring down, so heavy, so loud. With no internet, Mario and I camped out in the living room, glued to the local news.
As time passed, the rainfall intensified. It was very surreal to look out our window and see no flooding whatsoever, then turn to the television and see live footage of downtown Houston, just one mile away, completely under water. So many moments run into a blur in my mind. I remember the panic of the tornado warning, when we grabbed Pixel and ran into the empty master closet. I thought, really? On top of everything else, we have to worry about a fucking tornado?? I remember watching live Facebook videos of friends being evacuated from their houses in fishing boats. The relief every time I learned that my family was still okay. Seeing what we all thought was a photo of Zadok Jewelers flooded, which thankfully was not the case. But when I saw the photo, my heart shattered into a million pieces, and for the first time that weekend, I cried.
By the end of the day on Sunday, we started thinking that our luck might run out. Hurricane Harvey’s trajectory meant that the storm kept dumping rain over our area. It was as if it wasn’t moving at all. When we went to bed that night, I set an alarm for 3 a.m. When it went off, I got out of bed and went downstairs to look outside and check to see if the raging waters had finally reached our doorstep. But while our ditch was full, there was no water in the street. That was as bad as it got for us. We were so, so lucky.
In the aftermath, Mario and I tried to do what we could to help the people whose lives had been turned upside down. We drove to the temporary shelter at George R. Brown and dropped off water and clothing. I took a friend some cardboard boxes from our move so she could pack up everything salvageable in her grandmother’s house, which had flooded. I volunteered at the Houston Food Bank. The truth is, I felt helpless, and I sank pretty low for a while there. I wouldn’t feel normal again for a long time.
Today, one year later, I choose to remember the endless generosity shown by my fellow Houstonians in the face of tragedy. It was, and still is, the silver lining of the worst natural disaster we’ve ever faced. Many people’s lives are still not back to normal. For some, whatever “normal” they knew before is gone forever. Today, one year later, I think of them.