The aftermath of Rita. This office had its roof and walls ripped off by the hurricane, but the Stars and Stripes withstood the winds. Photo: Arved Plaks
We first drove in a rural area. The back roads were empty, until we turned north and unavoidably had to merge with evacuation traffic from the city. Here countless cars crept slowly westward. It was noon now and the whole city of Houston was under mandatory evacuation order. We had to travel this road for 25 miles, which took us 4 hours. The traffic hardly moved. People jogged along side their cars or walked their dogs, or just socialized. It was sunny and windless and very hot. The temperature was 95F, and hotter in these cars, if the air conditioning was turned off to save gas. The few gas stations we passed were either boarded up or had signs declaring they had no gas. But surprisingly, people were courteous, and even helpful to another offering water to drink to those who needed it. On the road we had this helpless feeling: could we get far enough west before the storm caught up with us. The center of the hurricane was reported to move at 9 mph, but the traffic moved at about 6 mph. None on the road knew what was holding up the traffic. We only could guess that we were nearing a bottleneck at which traffic was converging from different side roads.
All this time, despite the horrific gridlock at towns the evacuation route passed, State Police and local police continued dutifully to direct all traffic onto these main arteries. In the three days before the Rita’s landfall 3 million people evacuated from Houston and its surrounding areas. Even more would have left the city had the city not been in a total traffic gridlock, and some people, having moved only a couple of blocks from home in several hours turned back in frustration.
After four hours of creeping we reached the main route out of Houston to the west, Interstate Rt. 10. We did not get on it but crossed it looking down from the overpass with trepidation onto the drama below. The lanes for easterly travel were also opened for driving west and thus we saw six lanes of cars creeping westward. We, however, continued on side roads northward and arrived in La Grange with still 1/8 of a tank of gas. In this little town, away from the main arteries, there was only one gas station that had gas, for which we were thankful. At a restaurant most menu items were sold out, but a sandwich was all we needed. Then we proceeded to the farm of our friends. We arrived there having been on the road for 8 hours. Normally it takes us 2 _ hours to get there.
Our hosts had not arrived there yet, but other guests had arrived, who were able to get us in the house and settle in for a pleasant evening. Far away in the east we could see a dark cloudbank as we were basking in the mellow setting sun, drinking beer, and wondering what catastrophe was befalling on people elsewhere. This we found out only later. The evacuation had been a total disaster. Creeping along main roads with the air conditioner on, some people ran out of gas. They had to pull over and sleep in their cars that night. Others had no place to go, but had taken tents wisely with them. They pulled into roadside parks and slept there with very crowded and unsanitary conditions. The early evacuees had quickly filled hotels and motels on the main highways; thus this was not an option for most. There were shelters set up in some towns in churches and schools but very little information was available on the radio. Many who made it to San Antonio or Dallas were over 20 hours in their cars, with the longest reported time on the road of 30 hours. The heat made it worse - in Houston no one died directly due to the hurricane, but over 30 people, mostly elderly, died in cars due to the heat. Our hosts were on the road for 16 hours arriving well after midnight.
On Friday, September 23, we were supposed to close the sale of the Nassau Bay house. But instead we were in a pleasant countryside house with 10 other people who had come to seek refuge here. It continued to be sunny and we enjoyed ourselves with good conversation sharing food and drink. It felt as if we were suspended in time. Overhead were a few thin cloud ribbons in a semicircle as if spun off from some center far to our east. Still, we were aware of the hurricane nearing the coast, though with diminishing intensity.
On Saturday morning the hurricane center made landfall on the Louisiana – Texas border, 200 miles (320 km) east of us. Although it had lost some intensity it still packed 120 mph winds, (190 km/hr). This made it a category “3” hurricane, as compared to the category 5 that had hit New Orleans earlier. We heard on the radio that a 15-foot (5 m) high wave, i.e. storm surge, was pushed by the hurricane winds over the coast that dissipated only after having traveled 5 miles (8 km) inland. It swept away fishing villages and damaged oil installations though these were constructed to withstand hurricanes. But the city of Houston saw little damage. Pearland did not even have a power interruption. Instead of the feared flood in our area, the creeks were abnormally low. The reason for this is that the hurricanes in the Northern Hemisphere always turn counterclockwise. Thus on the eastern side of its landfall, the winds blow inland bringing moist air and floods. On the western side the winds are relatively dry and blow towards the sea pushing river waters with it. Despite the good news, we decided to stay put that day in our pleasant countryside, taking a cautionary lets-wait-and-see attitude.
On Sunday we received word that the worst was over, the hurricane quickly diminished in intensity as it moved inland. Thanking our hosts we drove home uneventfully. We drove first to Nassau Bay. To avoid looting of empty homes, the streets leading into the town were closed for all people except residents. At our house the lawn and the pool were full of leaves and small branches; and the flagpole was broken, but there were no other visible effects of the storm. Our new home was also in good shape. So we fared well, except for the inconvenience.
We sold our house a week after the scheduled time. In the future we will be less concerned, because the new home is 32 feet (10 m) above sea level and 15 miles inland.
Having settled reasonably into our house, I took a day off from hanging pictures and unpacking by joining a group of men from our church to go to Beaumont. It is a city east of Houston, and only 40 miles (60 km) from the point of landfall of the hurricane. We spent a whole day clearing a churchyard from debris of fallen trees. The town was still under curfew to prevent looting and thus we had to time our presence accordingly. In the town many houses were damaged: some roofs or walls were blown off. Fallen trees crushed some houses and cars.