Hurricanes, Tornadoes, Earthquakes, Disasters

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Ruminations on Ike: Why is it that my power is on?

An Inner Loop resident ponders the whimsy of fate and electrons in Ike's wake

By ROBERT I. MOORE
Copyright 2008 Houston Chronicle
Sept. 14, 2008, 10:19PM

I live in an older neighborhood, inside the 610 Loop and close to the Texas Medical Center, where quaint bungalows are torn down and million-dollar McMansions are constructed. It's a nice place to live.

After enduring the drama of Hurricane Ike early Saturday and monitoring the endless news coverage, I looked out my window and saw an elderly neighbor across the street wrestling with a half-fallen branch in the rain. Like a 50-year-old Eagle Scout, I ran over to give him assistance, hoping he would not injure himself.

Then, I learned that neighbors on the other side of my street did not have any power and that their power may be out for days.

During the early hours of the hurricane, my power had gone off spasmodically. I remember once, while looking out in the darkness at the house across the street, seeing deep blue flashes of light in the night sky. I thought that this was some strange type of lightning, but no — it was electrical transformers being knocked out by the force of the hurricane.

Before the storm, I thought to myself — whatever happens, I do not want to lose electricity!

I felt confident in my older home, which my family has lived in since 1938 and which has weathered many storms in the past. Growing up, I remember Hurricane Carla in 1961. I was in this house during Alicia, Allison, Rita and now Ike. I did board up some of the home's more venerable windows with limited materials.

During the night we did lose power — oh no! For about an hour or so we were in the dark, and then miraculously our lights came back on. Thank you very much!

On Saturday, after assisting my neighbor, I was drenched with rain and perspiration. I had spent this day of rest working blisters into my hands beginning the endless cleanup after Ike's fury subsided. On Saturday night I first learned that, unfortunately, several million in the Houston area had lost their power. The paper said more than 99 percent. Unbelievable! My parents, my wife's parents, family members, close friends — all were without power!

I had offered my fully powered home to my parents and other family members, but none of them came. I couldn't help but wonder: Why were we so fortunate when even my neighbors across the street were without power?

On Sunday morning, I approached my neighbors across the street offering whatever assistance I could give them. Two weeks earlier, I had purchased a couple bags of ice when Hurricane Gustav was brewing. I still had them. Prior to this hurricane, I had grabbed the Ozarka plastic water bottles from the recycling bin. I had filled them with water and put them in the freezer.

When I approached one of my neighbors, he gratefully accepted the supplies of ice and the frozen Ozarka water bottles.

I made it a point to keep in touch with family and friends all through the hurricane weekend, continually offering them assistance.

Sunday afternoon, my mother called to tell me their power was back on in Sharpstown. My dad had just had surgery at M.D. Anderson one week earlier. I was glad to hear that!

One of my siblings has power, and she lives in Sugar Land. Two others do not. One lives in Spring and is a Harris County sheriff's deputy.

The other lives at FM 1488 and I-45, just south of Conroe.

Some of my close friends are enduring the aftermath of Ike without electricity as well.

My wife's family is without power, too. They live in the Inwood area between 290 and 249, in northwest Houston. They are here and staying with us on Sunday night. My wife's sister and her husband rode out the hurricane with us in the house together. He works for the city of Sugar Land and has been working from daylight till dark since the storm subsided. She is pregnant and due in two weeks.

Now as Sunday closes, I sit on my front porch with my dog, sipping a margarita and listening to the emergency sirens in the background as military helicopters fly over. I can hear the buzz of chain saws in the distance.

I can't help but wonder: Why do I have electricity when my neighbors and so many others do not?

Moore, a native Houstonian, grew up in Sharpstown and graduated from Texas A&M. He works for Ambrose, McEnany and House, Architects. Readers can e-mail him at [e-mail].

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/editorial/outlook/6001639.html