Houston: Random Thoughts from a Dry Canoe
THE DRY CANOE
I had a yearning to go to Houston, and headed that direction. My wife said, “You’ll get yourself drowned,” but I kept being drawn and wanted to help. It occurred to me that my little canoe wasn’t going to be much help, but still I could write and reflect. Truthfully, I didn't manage to get to slog through the water and rescue anyone. Too much water, traffic and confusion. Most of what I saw was on the TV and news, but I felt like I was there slogging through the water. My first surprise was when I got to a small town 40 miles west of Fort Worth, and they said they were out of regular gas. They later sold me some premium gas for $3.50 per gallon. As I got 50 miles southeast of Dallas, more and more gas stations had “out of gas” taped to the pumps. We saw a lot of people driving to the north. I heard on the news that 10,000+ Houstonians were staying in Dallas and 4,000 in Fort Worth. The local Dairy Queens were packed with people stopping to eat on their way north.
The people looked tired, strained, and all had a story to tell. They were in stained and dirty Levis, but their faces were not covered with despair. They looked determined. A woman with her baby were rescued and they simply seemed at peace. But with the excitement, fear and heroism, there were lingering fears. As the waters go down, concerns are rising. Promises from politicians of funding and help are quickly spoken but often take years to realize. Houstonians have a long and grinding road ahead. …
