An Evacuee in Waco
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Everyone knew that Rita was going to flatten homes, disrupt families, cut off needed supplies, close stores, empty the streets of all the “good people” and cause panic (since EVERYONE had seen the destruction caused by Hurricane Katrina). We knew that we could not turn to the government for help so our first thought was “Waco”. Our problem was that we were not the only ones who had the idea of leaving Houston. We left early in the morning on Wednesday (days before the storm was supposed to touch land in Galveston), closing up our new home which had just been bought and all our belongings were still boxed from when we left Waco the previous week. It was not a good beginning to a new place. As transplanted Wacoans, we could not ask our neighbors to take care of our house (if they had decided to “weather out” the on-coming storm). In fact, we did not know our neighbors yet. We were like the New Orleans evacuees who had recently traveled to Houston (who had been taken into shelters and homes by the tens of thousands). As we wheeled away from the boarded up house on Wednesday and drove over to Interstate 45, it became instantly obvious that route was not going to work. By cell phone, we learned that some evacuees had been in line for six hours and had gone only twenty miles. It was apparent that the traffic jam would only worsen (some, if fact, had already turned around and gone home to sit out the storm in Houston). Lucky for us, we knew all the back roads to Waco so the trip only took seven hours (about twice as long as normal). Lucky again, we found a motel on Route 35, just outside of Waco, that took pets, but we were told we only had one night to stay and that all the rooms (in all the motels and hotels for miles of Waco) were booked for the weekend. It is times like this that friends, some close and long standing, some new but supportive, are found. My webmaster lives in Hewitt and had offered us a room long ago when we came back to visit Waco. We called him and set up one night there. It was delightful. We got to know people who we had only dealt with in a creative, business sense. A great evening meal, good conversation and sharing similar likes and dislikes followed. I learned that one of my students in the past was a famous comic book artist who had drawn Superman and other characters from the 60s on. I had a rare drawing of his which was done when I taught on World Campus Afloat. Our host had owned a comic book and game store in the mall before turning to website-making. The next day, needing money to survive, we visited UBS, joking about the evacuation of Houston which is now big news (watching hundreds of thousands take 30 hours to drive the 200 miles to Dallas). On leaving the financial firm, we were offered a room for the night with our UBS friends of many years. In fact, we are told: “You are welcome to stay until you want to return to Houston.” That night, we learned things about our friends that we had not known before (small things like who gets up first, who checks the computer for emails and who ignores them, who does the outside cooking and who enjoys the inside creation of marvelous meals). We tell tales into the wee hours of the evening. You learn things as an evacuee that you might not have noticed before. A child crying behind your back is a sound that sometimes is overlooked. As an evacuee, you hear it clearly and with more meaning. It is fascinating that you have no desire (although you do turn) to turn to see if the baby is white, black, brown, etc. In the simplest terms, it is a baby crying who wants something. All the other normal considerations of race, religion, social standing and individual features are lost in the larger environment of need. As evacuees, we are all like small children crying for help. The wonderful thing about the experience is that when help comes, it is given with true caring and selflessly. We only stayed in two houses for two nights in Waco but the experience adds additional colors to our view of this marvelous city (which had been our home for 20 years). |
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