The Great Flood

I don't know what was so great about it. I thought it sucked.

We had a rough weekend weather-wise. It was no Katrina to be sure, and I'm thankful for that, but it sure put a damper on things around Casa Tehuti. (If you'll permit me the pun.) Friday night severe storms blanketed much of Texas from Abilene out West, to the DFW area up North and almost as far South as Austin and San Antonio. The storms tracked East at about 35 miles an hour all night long as they made they're way into East Texas. Here in central Texas we were inundated with heavy rain, blasted by lightning, battered by hail that in some places was a big as softballs and deviled by at least four tornadoes.

I was manning the radio station Friday night when all Hell broke loose and it was up to me to simulcast on all stations to keep the public informed of the impending danger. I called the station manager and got her voice mail. I left her a message that I had everything under control. I'll take it as a sign of her supreme confidence in me that I never heard back from her. Shortly after the weather started getting rough (and our tiny ship was tossed) Mr. Sensational showed up to see if he could help. I won't go so far as to say that he was sensational, but he was damn handy, and I put him on the air to read weather alerts while I got on the horn and started calling local fire, police and sheriff's departments. Not far behind Mr. Sensational was the station carpenter and he began answering phones. After a while the new station owners showed up and the radio station became a beehive of activity.

Situations like these are serious, and broadcasters have a great responsibility to provide accurate, up to the minute information because lives may literally be depending on you. It is also exciting In a way, and almost fun. But it can also be stressful when the phones start ringing and reports are coming in; the hail and high winds are battering the building and equipment starts to fail. No matter what happens you must keep broadcasting. When it is all over, you go home worn out.

Victoria Rose called me at the station at about 11:30 to let me know that the creek next to our duplex was out of its banks and rising fast. Mr. Spacely cut me loose and I came home to the Battle of Willis Creek.

This photo was taken the next day after the water had receded. On Friday night when I got to the house, after driving through water up to my doors, the creek was up to the pipe at the bottom of the bridge and water was spilling off the roadway into the creek like a waterfall. At the height of the storm, the roadway was completely submerged and Fourth Street was closed.

You can see by the debris on the fence how high the water got. During the night the fire department evacuated the apartments across the street, and came by to see if our side of the street was OK. The new neighbor, Goober, decided to speak for all of us and waved them off saying we were all fine. He then left in a pickup truck with his family. Thanks again, Goob! Of course, I wasn't about to leave my stuff and my cats unless I absolutely had to. But the folks on the end have little kids and might have needed some help.

I knew I saved those empty kitty litter jugs for a reason! The carpet looks dry in spots, but don't be fooled. The water was flowing underneath on that side of the room and starting to soak through.

The water came gurgling in through the gap under the door and began to spread rapidly. Towels and blankets weren't much help. I braved the storm to go around front and see if I could plug it up. The water on the front porch was up to about knee-level.

Oh, my poor, formerly tidy apartment. I'm pretty much a neat freak, so it is stressful for me to even look at this picture. We crammed everything we could into the back two rooms.

Victoria Rose and I manned brooms and pushed the encroaching water down the hall trying to keep the back rooms dry. We did pretty well, too. Of course, by the time I was able to get the camera for pictures, the worst was over and we were in the mopping-up phase. (No pun intended.)

Her son was nice enough to go get and run the wet-vac on Saturday. He worked for hours. Good boy!

Even old Tehuti takes a turn. Don't you love the stylin' outfit?

We couldn't get any sandbags from the city, although they have provided them in the past and know that this area is prone to flooding. I decided to try to fix up some half-assed sandbags out of Wal-Mart shopping bags. Paper or plastic?

This is the living room stripped down to the concrete on Tuesday. Like the high-rise love seat?

This blows...

Comments

[Falconmyst]

Still amazed at how well you articulate things; with photographic proof as well. Damn! Sorry things got bad for you, but you seemed to have handled yourself like a real trooper. I remember one year when a Hurricane was projected to hit Corpus Christi, when we lived there; at the last few hours it turned south, missing us. However we did get some severe thunderstorms that uprooted a huge tree in our back yard, which peirced through our back bed room roof, leaving gaping holes. Imagine, three of us in the lightening storm with chain saw cutting away at the tree.

These things only seem to add flavor to our characters and I think you're pulling it off well; glad you had the help. Had I been there; you know I would have been at tha Vac with ya.