We are safe. I feel shell-shocked from these last few weeks and then feel guilty for the state I am in, knowing I haven't experienced the worst of anything that has happened. I have been fighting off panic since Monday when I saw Rita entering the Gulf and every prediction had the Houston area in her direct path. I went into disaster response mode, preparing shelters, identifying people in my community with special needs and doing everything I could to make sure they were taken care of. Once again I am left with the realization that in a mass disaster, you better be prepared to take care of yourself. It was only Thursday evening and Friday that shelters here began to open. People with medical conditions could not find a shelter with an alternative energy supply - generators, and the hospitals were saying they couldn't take people who might need shelter, until after the electricity went out. When I informed one hospital that if the woman I was trying to place waited for the electricity to go out before seeking shelter there, she would die before she made it to the hospital, the man I was speaking to seemed to not have considered that reality. He then said to just have her show up and she would not be turned out into the storm.
As Rita reached Cat. 5 and was heading straight for Galveston, I made a very difficult decision to send my kids north to Dallas, and for me to stay behind. I needed to know they were safe, and I could not leave because of my work. My daughter wanted to go, my son did not. He didn't want to have to worry about whether I was alive or dead, he said. I made him go anyway. It was so hard to load them up with family friends and say good-bye. Then I got a call 5 hours later. They had only made it 20 miles out of town - using back roads that we had hoped would be less filled than I-45 which was at a stand still. They were turning around and coming back. I hung up the phone and sat and cried.
I did what I could to get people taken care of. I was getting lots of phone calls from people who made it north to where I live, and had decided to find shelter as the storm neared and the roads remain blocked. I got people into homes and shelters and then had to decide what to do for my own family. By Friday morning, it appeared the storm was heading more east than predicted at first. We still decided to ride out the storm with friends a bit further north. We took back roads and had no problem getting to our friends' house. The storm passed early this morning with only a few trees down and electricity out in some areas - but nothing too devastating here.
I grew up in Lake Charles and have a sister who still lives there. She went to Baton Rouge to stay with our other sister, and they are both safe. But, my sister in L.C. has no idea if she has a home to return to. And I keep seeing the scenes from L.C. and can't believe how devastated it is.
Once again, there are so many people in need of help. And right now, I can't begin to think of how to pitch in and help. I am so tired. So exhausted. It has been three weeks of non-stop taking care of people. And I feel guilty for just wanting to stop. Just wanting to go away and forget about all the suffering, all the people who have lost everything. The people we helped in LaCombe were hit again - the tarps blew off the homes we had repaired. The last I heard from one man was that he was in a home in Mandeville and they had water coming in to the first floor - they were on the second floor and had no idea how to get out or where to go. I hope they are ok.
I keep having this urge to check the national hurricane center website to make sure there are no more forming, no more coming into the gulf. I don't know that we here in the south could handle more of this.
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