In Case You've Wondered

My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.

If you're here for the stories, I started another blog:

One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.

I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Waiting for the Heartache

The news reports are showing many people still don't have access to their homes, or property. They can't survey the damage and start the process of regaining their lives.

After Ike, it was a long time before most of the residents of the Bolivar Peninsula could return. Even when they were finally allowed back in, many found nothing left. Everything that was theirs was either in debris piles across the intracoastal canal, or a miles north near a small community across Galveston Bay.

I know a few of these people. Some rebuilt; some sold the land; all lost something that can never be replaced.

I made a few trips along the Bolivar Peninsula during the cleanup operation. It was a strange sight. Large machinery piled the debris, which was hauled away. Sand was pushed into piles and relocated. Every operation had a few dozen spotters and every truck passed under an elevated tower with spotters. Their job? Look for the bodies of people that hadn't been found.

It's a bizarre sight when the power of water literally washes everything away. Nothing remains, except sand and puddles of water. When it's miles of land and you know what once was there, it brings sobering thoughts.  


  1. Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock.
    Couldn't resist.

  2. In some locations, even pilings and concrete foundations were washed away.

    The surge was somewhere around 20 feet above sea level, with waves powered by winds of around 100 mph. Those that stayed had the ride of their life, or certain death. One ex-Coast Guard rescue swimmer started at his cabin on the beach and ended up dozens of miles away on the north side of East Galveston Bay.

    I heard a lot of reports of people that disappeared forever, but from what I've read, only one person was never found, but that person was considered indigent, was homeless and nobody really knows if they just left.