August 17, 2017\u2013September 2, 2017<\/p>\n\n\n\n
by\nSuzie Peterson <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was hot, humid, with\npretty blue skies that Friday morning when I was visiting my family in Katy,\nTexas. Predictions for later that day, Hurricane Harvey\u2019s Category 4 winds and\nrain were aligned to slam the Texas coastline, for days. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Whipping winds and\nrelentless, slanted rain pummeled. The cul-de-sac filled with water,\nsurrounding roads impassable. Water climbed the driveway. Drainage from the\nhouse gutters and downspouts resembled mini rivers. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
A tornado alert blasted\nsimultaneously on our cell phones. Contained panic overtook me; we should be\nrunning, hiding, taking cover. The family remained calm. Within an hour,\nanother alert, and another. By the third alert, we were scrambling!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One tornado alert on a\ncell phone can stir chatter for a day. Thirty relentless tornado alerts on\nthree cells phones in one home, in forty-eight hours, during a hurricane, can\nmake you feel like you\u2019re under a constant air raid attack. Two days of\nnon-stop blaring alerts took me to an unnerving psychological state. Impending\ndoom. Petrified. Vulnerable. Danger. Helpless. Uncertainty. Overwhelmed.\nPrayers. Survival? <\/p>\n\n\n\n
My son\u2019s neighbor, meteorologist Chad, had a man cave full of computer programs to track severe weather. He created a community text thread during Hurricane Harvey. After each National Weather System Wireless Emergency Alert, sleep deprived Chad followed-up on our group text with the tornado\u2019s location, projected path, timing, and an action statement. Chad\u2019s statements were comforting. Details I needed. \u201cStay alert, but this tornado is headed to the west side of town.\u201d Each message eventually followed with, \u201cAll clear!\u201d He responded to five of the thirty tornado alerts, \u201cTake cover now!\u201d We scrambled to the big closet. There were pillows and blankets for the kids and a kitchen chair for me. I had no idea how long we’d be stuck. We\u2019d no sooner begin breathing after the \u201cAll clear,\u201d when another alert would blast. Constant, forty-eight hours. Chad\u2019s texts became my source of hope. I hadn\u2019t met him, but adored him so. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
For two nights I slept\nwith my shoes on, holding my phone, ready. I slept on a futon mattress on the living\nroom floor, with my six-year-old granddaughter. \u201cAre we going to die?\u201d A game\nof pretend camping, giggling, and playing with flashlights under the covers\neased her fear. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
My two-year-old grandson was not easy to resettle at 3 AM. He had been whisked out of his crib, and taken downstairs to the safety closet. Chad\u2019s \u201cAll clear\u201d message became the toddler\u2019s opportunity to run free with his bag of Cheetos. His tiny hands were now orange and sticky. Giggling, running, jumping on his big sister and me. Her limited tolerance, \u201cDon\u2019t hurt my Grammy and me!\u201d His mom and dad were at their sleep-deprived wits-end with his three AM shenanigans. They scooped him up, and headed upstairs. I heard mumbling and joking, \u201cThe next warning that comes through, he gets to stay in his crib!\u201d Comic relief.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The sun came out.\nTornado alerts ceased. Drained, our nerves now trained to be on edge. We were\nfragile. It would take time to come down from this historic catastrophe. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bush Intercontinental\nAirport and roads leading to it remained closed. My flight home was delayed\nfour days, but my Grammy-heart was full. I had opportunity to spend more time\nwith my grandchildren while my son and daughter-in-law volunteered to help less\nfortunate; so many lost their belongings, homes, lives. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The airport was just\nwaking up, Saturday, 6:30 AM. The young gentleman two seats away asked, \u201cHow\ndid it affect you?\u201d Reality startled me. Every person in this enormous airport\nhad been affected. There was more than my fear, and thirty tornado alerts. I\nexplained that the tornado warnings messed with my head, my son\u2019s home was not\ndamaged, but others nearby lost everything. Thankful, blessed, I was among the\nlucky ones getting to leave. \u201cYou?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
We had Harvey in common,\nhis story different. This thirty something stranger poured out his heart; I\nlistened, I understood. I was the first he spoke to, aside from fellow\nrescuers. He volunteered five days as an American Red Cross diver. He showed me\nhis credentials to dive more than one hundred twenty feet, proving what he\u2019d\nbeen through was real. The deeper you go, the shorter the time spent. Flooded\nHouston dives were eight to ten feet, more time under. His hand-drawn map\nshowed water current directions of the floods. He had been on a dive near my\nson\u2019s home. He looked exhausted, his tears heart-wrenching. My eyes swelled of\nsadness and tears with him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
For five days he swam\nwith rodents, snakes, in mud, slime, raw sewage, unable to see beyond his hand.\nHe swam into flooded homes, located medications, had to tell people their pets\nhe searched for died, and he and his rescue team located deceased bodies. At\nthe end of his days, he was so full of filth that he showered several times.\nFirst with all his scuba gear on, then without. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
His day job, VP at a\nmajor North American bank. He shared a picture of himself in a company advertisement.\nHe was trying to reconnect, escape horror. He, too, was fragile from stress of\ndisaster. Concerned, I asked if he was going home to someone. His girlfriend\nwould be there, but might not understand like someone who had lived through the\nstorm and devastation. He stood and tried to walk off his overwhelming\nemotions. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBoarding United Flight\n1666 from Houston to Newark will now begin for on-time departure.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
A year later, still a\nbond. I wish we had shared names. At home in New York, when news of devastation\nis reported on television, I get tears and goose bumps, still. I look in a different direction,\nlower the volume, change the channel. More than just a storm happened. It\nhappened to hundreds of thousands, with an equal number of perspectives,\nmajority of stories worse than mine. My thirty tornado alerts weren\u2019t that bad,\nafter all. <\/p>\n\n\n\n