Evacuation from the path of the hurricane was orderly but at a veritable snail¹s pace. Photo: Arved Plaks
We started moving our furniture and appliances as soon as the purchase of the new home was finalized. Since we were downsizing from 2700 sq ft to 2100 sq ft, (25% reduction) and had only 7 closets instead of the 14 closets found in the old home, we gave away much “stuff”, recycled old reports and files, and mailed 50 years worth of National Geographic magazines to Estonia. Reducing reports and records was painful, a process which I continued in the old house to the day its sale of it was finalized. I had saved many reports and notes for writing articles that will probably never be written: on the development of the first turbine powered helicopters, achieving of world helicopter records, development and marketing of the large wind turbines for electric generation, principles of life cycle cost estimating and finally on the decision making process in the development of the International Space Station. But there was just no room for that anymore. An inducement to staying in the old home as long as possible was its pool, - in our Texas heat it was indispensable to cool the body temperature of one who was born at the same latitude as Juneau, Alaska.
I had whittled 44 boxes of notes down to about 34, when we had a firm buyer for the old home. At the same time warnings came of a monster hurricane, named Rita, that it had entered the Gulf of Mexico. Our reaction to this news was, well the hurricane Katrina that hit New Orleans had left us untouched, and perhaps this one too will stay closer to Florida. Besides - don’t they say that lightning never strikes twice, so nothing should happen to our coast? But then, as Rita moved closer, we started to take it seriously, with the TV images still fresh in our minds of Katrina - people slogging through knee-deep water carrying their remaining worldly possessions in a plastic garbage bag.
When in mid-September the hurricane was still in the vicinity of Florida, the prediction was that it would weaken and move towards Mexico. It hit the tip of Florida only peripherally and continued west. On Tuesday, September 20 it was noted that it had gained strength over the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico so it was rated a category “5”, highest rating possible, and was turning northerly towards Houston. It was 200 miles (320 km) wide, making the prediction of a precise place of landfall only of academic interest. A voluntary evacuation was declared to the coastal areas, which included Galveston Island. This got our attention given that our Nassau Bay house was only 25 miles north of Galveston Island, and only 5 miles from Galveston Bay. Added to that was the fact that the house was only 11 feet (3.5 m) above sea level.
On Wednesday morning (September 21) I was still sorting reports in the Nassau Bay house giving loving consideration to every sheet of paper before disposing it. I was, after all, dealing with my life’s productive work. But late that morning Marilee called me from Pearland and informed of having heard that Nassau Bay will get a mandatory evacuation order that evening. When such order becomes effective, the police are required to direct evacuating people onto defined evacuation routes. For Nassau Bay this led to the Northeast, while Pearland was west of me. I moved quickly all items outside that were not firmly attached to the garage. After all, the storm could just lift these and hurl them as missiles through windows. I turned the electricity off and drove to Pearland. Crossing the main artery from Galveston I saw the traffic was moving freely. Most people must have already have left it earlier. The back roads were eerily empty. I repeated the precautionary steps in our Pearland home. Then we were informed that Pearland would be receiving a mandatory evacuation order in the evening of the next day.
On Thursday morning TV showed that the hurricane’s expected path would turn towards the Louisiana and Texas border, thus east of us, but due to the width of the storm and its unpredictability, the evacuation orders stood. Marilee had wisely filled the gas tank of the better of our two cars, since evacuations occur by car. Thus, early that morning we left with the goal of driving to LaGrange to the summer home of our friends to which we were invited to weather the storm. We considered LaGrange safe, it being about 100 miles north west of Houston and considerably inland.
I had mixed feeling leaving our home. All our things we owned were there, things that made our life comfortable, and things tied to our memories. Will we ever see them again? Will we lose everything due to a storm surge, and be left with what we had in our car? I recalled leaving Estonia on September 21, 1944, when I left with my parents and a couple of suitcases, knowing that we would not see again what we left behind. In the distance we heard the drumbeat of artillery, and no one spoke much. But now all was different. We had with us our credit cards, and we knew that my pension and our social security payments would continue to be deposited into our bank. Also our houses were insured. It was sunny and in a perverse way we felt adventurous.
Still, a disturbing thought was that the sale of the Nassau Bay house was scheduled for September 23, Friday. This was cancelled when the Title Company closed its doors for evacuation. Would we have a house to sell after the hurricane had come through?
(To be continued.)
