Water World Pages

This page contains 11 stories sent in by members of the SSQQ community about their experiences during the flood.  Some are humorous, some are harrowing - the story about Steve Bahnsen and Judith Williams tells of four people who almost drowned to death when they were trapped in their vehicle by floodwaters!

If you have an interesting story to share, e-mail it to Rick Archer, dance@ssqq.com

Enjoy!

Tue 06/12/2001 12:01 PM
Michele Lane

I have been through 3 earthquakes. I haven't experienced damage like this. The neighbor across the street got up hearing frogs, stepped out of his bed in a lake of water. This is the biggest disaster for me personally. 

It started out closing my office in Stafford where the parking lot and road was completely impossible to enter. At home at 11:30 PM Friday night the street's a river! We decided to enter our house. The entire ground floor was covered at least 1-2 feet. Stereo speakers were floating around. I saved my harp and my lap top. This has destroyed all carpets, floors, furniture, books, walls!

The stench from the mildew is mesmerizing. Gary, Ray, and Fern, such came over to help rescue some of the stuff. Flood insurance covers some of this after the deductible is met. We have dehumidifiers rented to dry up the walls and floor. Clothing, books, the list continues- so much ruined. My car's carpet is completely covered. I hear U of H is closed for a week. My Bellaire office has no running water. A service came to tear up the carpets. As you drive around Meyerland and Bellaire you see mountains of water damaged carpets piled on the lawns. Quelle messeroni!!

At least Dave, I, and my 1.5 pounder Snuggles are safe. Our phones were out, but at least some jacks are working.

I am supposed to leave on Thursday to LA. This is going to take months for restoration. Claims adjusters are backed up for weeks. We have loads of pictures. Quelle catastrophe! 

The saddest part is that a family legacy of special mementos- love letters from my dear dad written to my mother during the war were severely damaged, pictures, and videos of the children have become completely water logged.

If you know of video rescuing, restoring service, I would be so appreciative.

I hope you are all safe and sound/ 

Sat 06/09/2001 8:39 PM
Gary Richardson:

Well, never in our lives have we seen rain like we experienced last night. It started just as we closed the store at 6:00pm. We (Gary, Betty, and Cyndi) left for dance in the rain and danced from 7:00 to midnight. Britney (Cyndi's baby daughter) was at John's house. Unaware to us, it never stopped raining one minute. This was rain that was not just light rain now and then...it was steady, heavy rain all the time from the remnants of Tropical Storm Allison (you may have seen it on the news.) 

We left the studio at midnight and tried to get on the freeway (610 loop), which is only one block away from the studio...impossible! Water was too deep under the freeway and within 100 feet of the service roads...a big lake! We turned around...all side streets were lakes. We had to drive down the middle of the street where we could to avoid the water on the streets. Every major four lane and six lane we came to was a lake. Cars stalled out everywhere. 

We gave up and fought our way back to SSQQ where we left a few minutes later (after telling people what we had seen) and went out again to try a different route. Again, no route could be found and we made it back to SSQQ probably just in time as a few minutes later it would have been too deep to make it back. 

Others were coming back as well. All in all, 20 people spent the night (us included) at SSQQ watching the big screen TV on the sofas and sofa chairs at the studio. Everyone watched in disbelief what was happening not just in localized areas of Houston, but ALL OVER HOUSTON virtually flooding going on. 100's of cars were 30 to 40 feet under water on the I-10 freeway where it goes under the 610 loop! We wouldn't have got past that point even if we had been able to get on the freeway...and we would have been one of those thousands stuck on the freeway for the next six to ten hours. We were lucky to have a nice dry, comfortable (relatively) place with plenty of restrooms, soft drinks, and popcorn to spend the night! 

Everyone tried to sleep...I'm not sure anyone succeeded in getting more than maybe a total of 15 to 30 minutes over the course of the whole night. We just sort of watched the TV crouched the best we could in our sofa spaces with a few blankets for those that needed them. They showed homes, businesses, streets, freeways, and vehicles all over under water. Ambulances couldn't even get to the hospitals or away from the hospitals. Fire trucks were even having problems and some were 100% underwater trapped!

Rick (the owner of SSQQ) and I went out at around 8:00am and went to Randall's for food. They were open 24 hours, luckily, and we brought back food for everyone.

A few left at that time. I doubt if they made it far, but probably couldn't make it back if they tried because what happens is when you get so far you can't go further, you can't back up because the cars behind you can't or they stall out and pin you in. Then what happened to so many thousands all across Houston happens...the water keeps rising...you finally have to abandon your vehicle and it gets covered up with water.

Anyway, we stayed until we thought we had a reasonable chance of getting home at 11:30am Saturday morning. We tried calling our neighbors, businesses in the neighborhood and even businesses within a mile of our home. All the phones were dead even though the phones worked at SSQQ. We couldn't reach anyone that could tell us whether or not our home was high and dry or not. We did get through to John and Beth (who had Britney) and told them early Saturday morning not to bring her home as we were stuck away from home at SSQQ. We checked in with Mike at his house and he had made it home that night with great difficulty...but he lives West of the City. The West side of Houston faired the best (that is where we live, of course, but not as far out West as Mike). We left and got home with no problems before noon. Our home was fine. As it turned out, our area only got around 7 inches of rain (only seven inches!). 

The area we had been in was right next to the part of Houston that received 26" from 6:00pm Friday night to 6:00am Saturday morning!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

UNBELIEVABLE! Many homes all across Houston in lower areas everywhere still have water in them ... some five or more feet deep in their homes. People are still being rescued from their trapped cars/homes. All over the city people spent the night in service stations, corner stop & go groceries and just simple storefront overhangs to stay out of the rain. Most were just trapped in their cars unable to go anywhere without getting in to deep water so they just spent the night in their cars on medians, or parking lots if they could find HIGH ground.

We were LUCKY! Our neighborhood had no water in the homes though you could see where it got up into the yards.

Sun 06/10/2001 3:23 PM
Gary Richardson passing on a letter from his son Michael: 

Thought you might find the following from my son interesting...his perspective. Michael is a headwaiter at the famous Brownstone Restaurant. He was so busy; he never knew he was in a flood.... His reply to my letter:

Interesting letter, Dad. I didn't have much trouble getting home last night and I didn't know how bad it was till the next day. When I had left the Brownstone late Friday night, the major hard pour had stopped even though it had been raining very hard the whole night it seemed as I worked. We even sprung up some new leaks from the infamous flat roof that's been fixed, fixed, and then fixed some more.

I left the Brownstone with some strategically placed bus-tubs and wine buckets under some problem areas in the roof. Getting home was no problem for me because I go Westheimer to 610. Westheimer was no problem and the freeway is all high ground. But, all the way home I saw stalled cars on the exit ramps. My exit is Barker Cypress, which is actually on an incline up when you exit! So I had no resistance at all on my way home. I did hit hard rain near Beltway 8 and visibility was bad, but traffic was not heavy at all. In fact, it was virtually scarce at that time near midnight. I slept through the storm like a baby and didn't even turn on the news. I had no idea it was that bad till I went to work today.

On my way to work at around 2:00 pm (planning to be early for a 3:00pm shift) I was stopped by several roadblocks. I had to back track several times for alternate routes. Even the freeway where 610 merges to I-10 East was blocked off by police cars so I went I-10 West to Silber Road. Stalled cars again were everywhere on route to work. But I made it to work eventually. 50% of our staff called in "stranded". However, I believe today separated the mice from the men. One of our new "Captain's" from Maxim's restaurant made it to work and he had his car stalled, flooded and most likely totaled from his drive home Friday night. He said he was even stranded in his car till 8:30 am Sat. morning -- about the time mom called me! But he still made it to work and I ended up driving him home tonight.

But, the Brownstone was a DISASTER! The entire Brownstone was flooded Friday night. It literally came up from the ground. We even got a foot of water in some places. So, obviously, we did close for Sat. lunch, but we had to be open for night as we had a wedding for 130 people scheduled for 7:30pm. With 50% of our staff "stranded", we had to do a lot of improvising. I'm just glad a party for 30 in the "Club" cancelled as well as many reservations. When I arrived, there were professional carpet cleaners with many special fans everywhere. The carpet had been cut and pulled back in certain places. All the setup we did for the wedding Friday night was a complete waste of time. All those tables and chairs had been moved out of the way. It was just a DISASTER. I was 30 minutes late and had only 3.5 hours to be ready for a wedding of 130 people. That's because even though the party starts at 7:30, we need to anticipate that some people might come early. We also need to discuss the party and the game plan.... I will swim to work if I have to, but I WILL get to work one way or other. Don't people have responsibility anymore?

I was moving tables all by myself while at the same time making notes to myself of things that needed to be done when the real men finally arrived. I don't think anybody was on time today. Because we were short staffed, Chris got involved with working the party himself. The cashier and hostess had to double as "bar back" while one of the waiters became a bartender. Even the floor in the "PDR" had buckled up. I still had to use it for seating because we needed 130 seats. We didn't expect everybody to show up in this "disaster" but you have to be ready. The turn out was still 98 people, which is good. All in all, it was well worth our time and we will make more money as the money will be split less ways. It was a very nice $10,000 party when it was all finished. It wasn't even stressful really, just aggravating. As Carmen told me later, "we are really good at we do". We have this down to a science.

Even our swimming pool, which was blue the night before, was green today. The party called for having all that area looking nice, and leaves and debris were everywhere. We were able to get it cleaned up with floating candles going into the pool by 7:30 sharp. I was supposed to have 6 people working with me on this party, but ran with a crew of 4 instead. At least they had all showed up by 5:30pm. We had the place looking so sharp that you couldn't even tell there was a flood. We had scented candles everywhere, lots of air freshener, too. The buffet was beautiful and looked very tropical. That took the entire length of the Pavilion which I had set up the night before. It just required a lot of dress up work, but the foundation had been laid.

Talk to ya later,
Mike

EXCERPT FROM MICHAEL'S NEXT LETTER:

Dad, 
Ummm..... You have to forgive me here. I'm JUST NOW figuring out what happened! I sailed this storm without ever knowing I was in one! I was completely oblivious to the extent and magnitude of this flood. I'm just not catching up. You have to realize that I haven't watched the news in over 48hours. I left to work Friday night and I think I just left the Brownstone just minutes before my route Westheimer turned into a river. I went straight home and passed out from exhaustion. I didn't even watch the news Sat. morning. I'm certain Chris and Carmen didn't either because they had their hands full with their own problems at the Brownstone early in the morning. As you may know, Carmen lives on top of it with the owner. So now I'm starting to understand why so many people couldn't make it to work. I was very PISSED off at everyone yesterday. People wouldn't even call. They would just "no show" to work. God I was pissed off at everyone as I'm moving tables, and making set ups all by myself. So there was a flood in Houston???! :)

Mon 06/11/2001 3:03 PM
Paula Morris:

Hi Rick,

Info. concerning the flood coming your way via Paula & Glenn. We had our lesson with you Friday evening and after that Steve invited us to see his favorite musical group, the Sister's Morales, who were performing at a small club in the Heights. Steve's brother Jeff, just in town for the weekend, his sister Marcia, Judith and Roy joined us. We made it to the club and enjoyed the show and around 12:30 a.m. we headed toward home. We were in separate cars. Well, you've heard about the Heights, I'm sure! No way out in ANY DIRECTION! Glenn and I spent hours going to every exit we could... all the way to 610 to I-45, etc. Water was under the over passes all the way to the top. At many places l8 wheelers were caught underneath and just the tip of the cab was visible. We pulled over several times trying to assess the situation and tried to get a little rest. Around 3:00 a.m. we headed back to the club and several people were still there including the Sister's Morales. A few people were playing guitars and after a while Glenn starting playing and they jammed for a while. Needless to say...he had FUN! Finally, around 4:30 we headed out again...it was such a horrible sight....so many houses in the old Heights were flooded and cars parked on the side of the street were half submerged. Finally around 7:00 the water subsided enough for us to exit N. Main to Yale to 610 and about an hour later we made it to Chimney Rock at Wirt....610 at I-l0W was a lake. 
We were very fortunate and didn't have any damage to our home...we live on Spring Branch Creek! Everyone in the neighborhood was spared. However, bad news. Steve, Judith and the brother and sister ran into high water near the club. It did like you always hear....took them by surprise, filled the car with water and was swirling out of control. Steve's brother was able to get the power doors opened. They swam out in waist deep water, found a service station and spent the night with several other water-logged people. (many stories there) 

Of course, Judith lost her car. They got in touch with us around 10:00 am Saturday morning and were able to get to our house. There was no access to their homes in Channelview or Pearland. The 7 of us were here all weekend and had a great survival party...good friends, great food and many stories. Steve was almost certain that he had water in his house...since it had flooded twice before...he was right. He had 5 to 6 feet of water and has lost his home. Fortunately, he does have flood insurance. I'm sure he'll have a lot to add to this story...also Miss Judith! So, I'll let them fill you in. Glad to know we still have a great place to dance.
My best to everyone, Paula

Mon 06/11/2001 10:28 PM
Sharon Blifford

Dear Rick,
Thank you for being so considerate and taking care of us Friday night. You're in serious danger of killing off your "arrogant bastard" label!

I confess that I feel a little guilty for not warning you. (Guilt comes easily to those of us who grew up in a Calvinist home.) But you see, I have this jinx. I moved to Dickinson years ago and it flooded. Then to Sagemont. Now to the Galleria area. Need more proof?

Last year I took SCUBA lessons. Graduation dive in the Blue Lagoon in Huntsville. It's not blue, nor is it a lagoon. Really an abandoned quarry used for diving now, with murky, dark water. Anyway, the instructor said we could drive back and forth for the two day's dives or pitch a tent and stay. I pitched the old family tent - a humongous dome thing - or, rather, tried in vain to get it up. It was 100 degrees in the shade. So, I figured, let the top sag a little (years of Girls Scouts should have taught me better) and don't bother putting all the poles in place. You guessed it. At 2 am the sky lit up with lightning and the rains came pounding my shaky tent right down in my face. My sleeping bag floated around until it got saturated and sank.

Bought a new tent and went camping with the Sierra Club. Enchanted Rock turned from rosy pink to green from all the rain. New tent and I floated downhill.

Signed up for a backpacking trip. Same ending.

Maybe they should just call me Soggy Sherri.

When I bought my condo on the bayou, my family all groaned. 

Ready to banish me from the cruise yet? 

Thanks again for being a super host. It was the most fun I've had this year.

Sherri

Tue 06/12/2001 12:24 PM
Wil Coulbourn

Hi ya Rick...
Hope you and yours made it through the floods wonderfully. Or at least without losing anything.  As for Lena (my fiancée) and I we made it through fine. We live in the northwest part of the city and just happen to be in a high spot. Although a friend of ours did get flooded. A little before 1 am Saturday morning we left here in the Jeep trying to get to her house to help her lift items off the floor and get her out to safety. At 2:10 we found we could not make it and indeed almost got ourselves in trouble: one of the rivers...I mean roads...had actually moved the Jeep sideways a little before we could get across. We called her and she was just starting to call us. The water had gotten up to her calves in the garage and she was leaving then or wouldn't be able to leave. Luckily, she found a path out by going in the complete opposite direction. We met up awhile later and she followed up back to our place where she stayed for the rest of the weekend. Sunday we went by her house and pulled carpet furniture etc that had been ruined.

In all of the destruction that we have witnessed both live and on TV it is one thing we can all be thankful for that the loss of the most important thing, life, was as small as it was. Any lives lost is devastating but it could have been so much worse, I'm just glad it wasn't.
See you Friday.
Wil

Wednesday, June 13, 2001 2:49 PM
Marlene Kayfes

I vote for Sharon Blifford as a winner for flood stories. I'd also think we should adopt her as cruise mascot and the first day out we perform some ritual water spirit cleansing dance around her to dispel the evil floodwater spirits. OK, so that's more a Venus thing.

And speaking of Venus (and Mars), in hindsight I guess that's how I might classify my venture out into the flood with Jim Colby. He was certain he could get me home. "I have a big truck," he said in a Martian-Tarzanian way. Hmmmm. OK! Heck I like an adventure. Besides, I reasoned that the media always exaggerates and this might be another example of their crying "wolf." It might be really bad in some places, but not necessarily the entire city. Jim made a scouting trip and returned to assure me that he could, in fact, get me home. He does have a big truck and we set out-down Bissonnet to Rice towards Beechnut. On Rice, just past Bellaire Blvd. the water got pretty deep, even for a big truck. I pressed my face against the window and saw water spewing up and out as the front wheel turned. In most (not all) places we could see the stripes painted on the road.

"Hmm, it's gotten worse since I was out before," Jim said. I glanced at him and turned back to press my face against the window, trying to quell a rising panic. At the intersection of Rice and Beechnut, it was reeeeally bad!! Or so I thought.

We cruised slowly down Beechnut and Ms. Venus lost any Mars qualities she'd ever had. "Jim! We shouldn't be out here! Jim! We have to go back! Jim!" I wondered if he could hear me. Meanwhile, Jim is leaned back in his seat, smiling, one wrist draped over the steering wheel. Finally, he said, "Aren't trucks cool?" I had to laugh.

At Beechnut and 610, I saw cars stalled in the service road with the water level more than half-way up their windows. "Jim! We can't keep going!" I was ready to jump out of the truck into the mucky, probably rat- and snake-infested waters, if he continued on. It was a valiant effort, but enough of this "boys and their trucks" stuff.

We pulled into the IHOP parking lot. Decision time. We both were hungry. Do we stay and eat at the IHOP? If so, we'd probably be stuck there. Not an option if there's any chance we could make it back to the studio, I'd rather be in a place and with people I knew. But the others probably were hungry, too.  "How fast can we get some burgers?" I asked. About 5 minutes. "OK, 10 burgers and fries to go." Again, Jim stepped up to the plate and picked up the tab.

We waited, and we watched the rain. Soon I pointed out that when we arrived, there were some puddles in the parking lot. In 10 short minutes, the puddles had joined hands and become a veritable lake. We had to go - now! "We'll take 'em medium-rare! We'll take 'em rare! We gotta go now!" I called back to the kitchen.
Finally, juggling boxes and bags of burgers and fries, we ran into the rain to the truck. Totally drenched now, we headed back toward the studio. But the flooding was worse. The water was higher. We both knew it but didn't speak the words. Well, if we were stuck in the truck, at least we wouldn't starve!

Backtracking down Beechnut, Jim was driving nearly on the median. We couldn't see any lane stripes on the road. And my face was again pressed against the window, eyes big as saucers. Instead of my panic during the trip out, my tone now was more muted, more of a submissive whimper, "Jim. We shouldn't have done this."

Back on Rice, passing Bellaire High School, Jim says, "Hmm, it's gotten worse." Again, panic rises inside of me. Everything was just fine until the words were spoken!

My face reattaches itself to the window and I try to stretch my eyeballs to maybe miraculously will them to see beyond my field of vision to assess the water's depth. For a few fleeting moments I thought about sticking my head out the window to see how high the water was, but, no, that would be stupid!  At one point, a little whitewater wave bubbled up in front of the truck's hood. We both saw it and looked at each other "Ooooh, that's not good," I said. Jim was more philosophical, "Huh, that was pretty cool. I'll have to remember that."

Was that a large tree limb sticking up out of the water? Was it an entire tree? Water lapped at the doors of houses on both sides of the street. I'm muttering, "Jim, we shouldn't have done this. We're not gonna make it!"

A CD is playing. Jim is singing, "Oh, I shoulda been a cowboy..."

The big truck had no brakes as we coasted to a stop in front of the studio. We were wet, cold and hungry. The burgers were cold and the buns were mushy but they tasted pretty darned good anyway.

We got dry shirts out of the leave-behinds in ladies' room and snuggled under a blanket on a sofa the rest of the night - safe, warm and cozy - to ride out the storm.

Yeah, maybe that Martian shoulda been a cowboy!

Tue 06/19/2001 11:00 AM
The death of a Roadmaster By Steve Bahnsen 

June 8, 2001, the gang was to gather at Dan Electros Guitar Bar in the Heights to see Sisters Morales play. My brother Jeff was in town on business and was getting a ride from Toshiba staff to SSQQ. Judith and I left my sister Marcia outside of SSQQ with the key to Judith's trunk so that when Jeff arrived he could load his golf clubs, clothes, and laptop into her big Buick Roadmaster. When class ended, Glenn and Paula headed for the heights and Judith and I gathered Jeff and Marcia from Jax Grill and followed a different route to Dan Electros. Judith's husband Roy and other friends were already at the bar saving front row seats.

We should have paid closer attention to the portents. Water was high on the feeder roads. We arrived soggy but still happy and blissfully unaware of what was in store for us. The show was excellent as usual but at intermission when the smokers normally retired to the garden for various types of burnt offerings, the garden was empty except for blowing torrents of heavy rain. About this time, the lowest storeroom area of Dan Electros began to flood. Audience members helped the staff and band move instruments, amplifiers, and other equipment to the raised stage. The band played two more songs and quit. Lisa and Roberta Morales said everyone was invited to stay for a slumber party but if we wanted to go home we had better leave now. They didn't know it was already too late.

Once we left Dan Electros and headed the big Buick south on Airline, our fate was sealed. Glenn and Paula tested all the escapes from the Heights in their high sitting Suburban and finding none returned to the slumber party to jam on guitars. Roy, in his pick-up, headed north and watched other vehicles drown in front of him so he pulled into a high gas station parking lot and tried to sleep. But the ship of fools in the Roadmaster were the only dummies heading into an ever rising ocean with no high ground available.  We didn't know if water was rising or if the road was getting lower. Someone at the bar had instructed us to try North Main as an escape. We tried Cavalcade first. 

As the water rose in a wave in front of the Buick's distinctive grill, people standing waist deep in water frantically gestured that we should turn around. There was a gas station parking lot that offered us a chance to make a wide U-turn thus enabling the Buick to maintain it's forward motion and avoid stalling. Back on Airline, we continued to North Main and turned east. The water was at a consistently high level and was seeping into the floorboards. However, as long as we went no deeper, the valiant Buick Roadmaster was undaunted in its efforts to get us to safety. 

At this point, we had no choice but to keep moving forward looking for shallower roads. We couldn't stop without killing the engine. We couldn't turn around because we couldn't deviate from the crown in the middle of the roadway. There was no high ground in sight and no vehicles in front of us to show us the depth of the water ahead. The Buick amazed us by showing no signs of faltering as it snorkeled its way through 2 feet of water. All we had left was a desperate hope that the road elevation ahead was going to go up instead of down.  No such luck, high ground was ahead but only after a two block long dip in the road. We didn't immediately feel the sudden dip because the car didn't go any lower. 

Instead, the engine revved freely while forward motion slowed. We began to turn sideways. All four wheels were off the ground as we floated through a 180-degree spin and lodged against a fence and pole. The mighty Buick's engine finally died as the car settled to a stop. We were stunned to find the water level on the windshield several inches above the dashboard!!  

Never intended to be amphibious, now the Roadmaster began to fill with water. The water pressure outside was tremendous and quickly water began to seep in under the door. The water level inside the car was starting to catch up with the level outside. It appeared the Buick intended to take us with it to Davy Jones locker!!

As the breathable air inside the car diminished, our panic increased dramatically. It was time to get out of this death trap rapido!  However to our dismay we found that power door locks and power windows were never intended to work underwater. My brother Jeff tried to open the door in back. He got it open just a crack, but the water pressure quickly slammed the door shut again. I was really getting scared...

The water inside was getting up to our chest-level. This frightening development turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Although it was threatening to drown us, at the same time it equalized the pressure inside the car to the water pressure outside the car. This was a real break. Just as I was positioning myself to put my foot through the driver's side window, word came from the back seat that Jeff had managed to manually unlock a rear door and force it reluctantly open. The evening of the water pressure had allowed my brother to finally get a door open. I crawled over the back seat as did Judith and we swam out the door to safety. 

After we abandoned ship through the escape hatch, we found ourselves in chest-high water.  Slowly we trudged our way to safety. After wading for over half a mile, we emerged near I-45 and North Main intersection. Refugees from worse destruction were huddled beneath the roof of the Exxon station there. We heard one horror story after another that made our own scary moment seem merely commonplace. 

Everyone helped each other, shared what they had, made lasting friendships, began romances, and wore fashionable plastic garbage bags. Yes, we were soaking wet from our adventure of wading through the depths. Shivering and cold, the plastic bags we wore did little to help dissipate our misery, but wear them we did. Proud dancers earlier in the evening, we had been reduced to wearing trash bags. 

Dawn's early light revealed the mass devastation on the freeway below. Semi-trailers and cars alike were jumbled in a pile after the current had moved them to the side of the curve in the freeway. Other cars and pick-ups were just becoming visible beneath the surface as the water level receded from the great depths of the previous night. We marveled at the spectacle of Mother Nature's fury as she illustrated her contempt for Houston's puny attempts at flood control.

So there we were, still cut off from anywhere outside of the Heights, no transportation, no communication, and no idea of when we could reach comfort, and so tired. Judith and I decided to walk to the Buick when we saw that the flood had ebbed throughout the morning. We found Jeff's clothes still in the trunk, soaked. The golf clubs were wet but ok. The laptop computer was predictably, trashed. As we lamented the loss of the grand Buick Roadmaster (we harbored no resentment toward it for its grasping attempt to take us with it), we looked up at the honk of a horn. It was Roy in his nice, dry, extended cab pick-up truck. He had been searching everywhere for us. It turned out from afar he had actually noticed my Hawaiian shirt. Thank goodness I had removed my fashionable trash bag attire.  

We were saved. 

As far as Silver Lining in the Storm Clouds, I have been wracking my brain to think of anything positive from this disaster. Sadly, the best I have been able to come with is perhaps a good lead on this fall's group Halloween Costume at the SSQQ Halloween Party. I remember exactly what brand of trash bag we wore...

June 15, 2001, 2:54PM
Dan Green

Things learned from a flooded freeway
By DAN GREEN 

Dear Everyone, I don't know if you've been following anything in the news besides the execution of Timothy and the obnoxious L.A. Lakers, but we've had a bit of flooding down here in Houston. I've been in flash floods before but I think it's safe to say I've never experienced one as incredible as the one brought about by Tropical Storm Allison.

Midnight:
There I was last Friday night, leaving my girlfriend's house (yes, that's read correctly -I'm no longer "Platonic Dan") and heading back for my apartment eager to get to sleep and out of the light drizzle I'd been driving through all day. Thankfully, the sanctuary of my little Acura Integra made for a pleasurable cruise from her house to Interstate 10 west. Tuning into the radio stations, I knew that Interstate 10 was the only highway that wasn't experiencing traffic jams or severe weather so it seemed likely that I'd have an easy 13 mile journey to my apartment....Damn my hubris.

12:06 a.m.: Static:
The first sign of trouble is the radio. Regularly, the reception around Houston is as clear as a whistle but in this case, the rain and the static have taken every other word. For a moment I am entertained by the game, filling in my own words for the song which I thought was "Freeze Frame" by the J. Geils Band (a perennial classic). As a cautionary tactic, I decide to reduce my speed from 70 to 55. However, the other cars and 18 wheelers around me barrel onward.

12:08 a.m.: The Clue I Didn't Pick up on Until Later:
I casually notice that there are no cars, SUVs, or trucks heading in the opposite direction. In my head I'm thinking it's because two of the highways in that direction are closed...

12:10 a.m.: The Moment of Truth:
Visibility is somewhat difficult but part of that is because I'm now riding to the left of an 18-wheeler's back wheel which is spraying my car continuously with water picked up from its treads. My wipers are working full throttle but it's to no avail. I begin making up my own song about 18-wheeler jerks but am interrupted in mid-flat-note by the emergency broadcast system. It is not a test. Both Interstate 59 and Interstate 45 are closed as is the city's loop on the east side. I deduce that the problem is behind me as I'm heading west but I reduce my speed to 35. The people around me follow suit.

12:15 a.m.: The Chevy Blazer:
I-10 is a four lane highway heading west through the city. I am now in the third lane (2nd from the center median) as I'm predicting the traffic will spread out for the upcoming loop division (some four miles away). A 1989 Chevy blazer cannot take the speed that everyone is choosing to go so it exits the 3rd lane and proceeds to pass us all on the left. I called him several unfriendly words at the top of my lungs. Suddenly, the Blazer begins to shimmy. It starts to skid and slide sideways. It is now hydroplaning and I am pressing down on my breaks firmly (It is approximately 10 car lengths ahead of me).  Ultimately, the Blazer skids to a halt and sits still as I pass it (now at a cautionary 20 miles an hour).-Deductions I made from witnessing the hydroplaning:
1) Water is accumulating in some areas so be careful.
2) If you see any big puddles, exit.
3) Stay close to the median so as to avoid the puddles at all cost because your Acura can't handle it.
4) The guy driving is an idiot.

12:16 a.m.: The Warning and the Waiting:
As I drove towards the 610 loop, I saw a blinking yellow sign which read, "Expect delays at the loop." Within a half a mile of that sign, I found myself at a standstill underneath the T.C. Jester Boulevard overpass, out of the rain for the moment, stuck in a typical Houston traffic jam, singing the words to "Desperado," (much to the amusement of a Vietnamese woman as I later found out). There are trucks in front of me, vans, other sports cars, and several large cars. There are also tankers and other big rigs behind me. I'm not going anywhere for a while-if only there were a Snickers bar around.

12:20 a.m.: The Cop Lady's Request:
A cop in the 2nd lane rolls down her window and flags me. She ask very politely if I wouldn't mind "scootching over" towards the median even more because she's noticed the water level rising around us. I acquiesce ever so graciously.

12:25 a.m.: The Rising:
The cop is now out of her car, moving things out of her trunk. Hers is the only "car" in the 2nd lane. The rest of the vehicles are rigs of one kind or another. She seems perturbed. I don't like angry cops so I try to ignore her (truly my finest hour). Water is now accumulating underneath my car. I get angry with the truck driver behind me because first, his lights are on and flashing right into my mirror and secondly, he is driving forward sending small waves into my car's exhaust. Has he no conscience?  Is he just pure evil? Other drivers also jeer at him. We are united in our disgust; a very reputable mob mentality. Suddenly, a Nigerian man calls to me and ask if I have water in my car. I check. Nope. We both sigh relieved.

12:30 a.m.: The 1st Wave:
I've been relaxing for a moment, my seat eased back, the car off, listening to the rain. My foot has been resting slightly on the clutch. I decide to sit up and stretch. I put my foot down and I hear a splash. There is a centimeter of water in the car. "That's not so bad," I think. I can have this thing cleaned out tomorrow and it'll be as good as new. I just gotta hope that the rain will stop. Looking out into the night, I study the rain and come to the frightening conclusion that the rain can go on a little longer. A motorcycle weaves its way by me through traffic without difficulty. I am jealous of the Chinese kid in the Prelude who rolls down his window for the sheer delight of shooting the finger at the motorcyclist. "Why didn't I do that?" I ponder.

12:35 a.m.: The Hard Fought Loss:
I grab a coffee mug that I've had in my car since mid-May and start bailing water out. I also grab a water bottle and using my trusty scout knife, cut off the top to have a second water bailer. My father's voice echoes in my head as I remember my sailing days, "Bail! Bail! Bail! Bail!"
...He would have been proud of my effort. Water is now nearing the top of the seat cushion. It seeps in with greater ease than my ability to send it out. I notice an Irish tape floating underneath the center console. It serves as the catalyst for one of my finer barrages of expletives-directed primarily at myself and the rain. "You stupid idiot! You stupid %$#@** moron! AAAAAAAAGGGGHHH! Of all the *&##@ luck! %%&$$^% this rain! *&@#% this car! *%##@ this night!" Thankfully, the neighbors couldn't hear me.

12:40 a.m.: Abandoning Ship:
I am now out of my car and loading things up into my backpack · anything I can salvage. Other motorist are out and about doing the same thing. The water is now above my knee. I put everything on top of my back speakers and go watch the flood from the median. There I visit with the Vietnamese family, the Chinese kid (Steven), the Nigerian who lost his alligator shoes, computer, dry cleaning, cell phone, and CD player. Typical questions: Are you insured? Can you believe this? When will it end? Did you hear any warnings on the radio?

12:50 a.m.: THE MASS EXODUS:
The rain is now up to the window of my car. The electricity shorts out on it, causing the alarm to sound for the first time in nine months, much to the delight of my neighbors. I frantically search for my alarm control and drop my keys. Reluctantly, I immerse myself into the water. Using my toes, I manage to retrieve the keys but I am 100% soaked in the process. Thankfully, other people's alarms are sounding as well and the hatred for me is short lived. The alarm fails to respond to my control but eventually it cuts itself off (it would do that several more times). I study the water and realize that it's still rising steadily. I go to my car, open up the hatchback and retrieve everything I can put in either my backpack or my Snoopy pillowcase. Then I carry them above my shoulders over the median to the southern bank of the TC Jester overpass. Other people follow suit. Some draw allusions to Moses, some to Noah, and some to INS and the Rio Grande. Andalé Muchachos!

1:00 a.m.: The S.S. INTEGRA:
People point out which car is going under first. The Hondas, Acuras and Mitsibushis will go, no doubt. Somebody has a BMW roadster too. People delight in watching it go under. We also notice that all of the truck drivers are staying with their rigs. We hate the truck drivers. Now we are one collective, using each other's cell phones, shaking our heads in unison, borrowing each others dry stuff. For the moment, it is okay to be under the bridge, out of the rain and the water, watching the spectacle. I notice that cars are floating into one another a little bit. All that can be seen of my car is the sun roof. I think to myself that I've now lost one car to black ice and another to a flash flood. Nature 2, Me zip. 

1:10 a.m.: The Flash Flood:
Somebody calls out that they just timed the water. It's rising a foot every ten minutes. We all sit there with our mouths open. 

1:30 a.m.: The Truck People:
The water is at least 6 feet deep now. It has covered a Landcruiser and an Astrovan in the last few minutes. Trucks start blowing their horns much to the dismay of those of us sleeping on the embankment. Our group finally figures out that some of the truckers are in trouble and we go to help. The truck drivers' rigs are now shorting out and they are escaping rapidly. We form a pretty weak firemen's line to help those of them that are escaping to the Southern bank. I saved a blanket.

1:50 a.m.: The Guy Who Couldn't Swim and His Family:
One Trucker honked on his horn for several minutes until finally people figured out he was trapped inside (His locks were electrical and the electricity wasn't working in his rig.) Once the door was pried open, he grabbed his two boys, ages 8 and 4, and tried to carry them to our embankment. His back had a slipped disk that he was taking medicine for, so the weight of both children caused him some distress. Also, he was not a very strong swimmer. Already wet, our group decided to help out as much as possible. We managed to get them all over to our underpass safely. 

1:55 a.m.: The Fire:
It was a good thing that we got the family out of their rig because a small fire broke out inside it. Ultimately, the electrical fire grew ten feet tall and enveloped the entire rig. We all sat there in disbelief. The man hugged his children tight and prayed. No one said anything for a while. 2:00 a.m.: Let's Get the Hell Out Of Here!:
I have never seen lightning so close in my life. Less than 200 yards away, lightning struck the tail end of a tanker which was floating high (I later learned that it was empty). Everyone screamed. A security guard exclaimed that there was a Texaco Station behind us if we wanted to leave the shelter.  I yelled at the top of my lungs, in Batman fashion no less, "To the Texaco Station!!!!!" Like a band of Gypsies we grabbed everything we could and made our way up the embankment to a shelter that had already been discovered by about 200 other people.

3:00 a.m.: The View.
Tankers and 18 wheelers are floating into one another now. I-10 has been renamed by us as "Bayou 10." We worry that the rain will continue and we'll have to seek higher ground again. It is approximately 6 feet to the top of the "levee."

THE REST OF THE NIGHT:
I stayed up watching the news, watching the rain, hearing horror story after horror story. I found a bed for the two kids that were saved by our group. I bought a Tylenol for the guy with the bad back as he had to stand up. I cursed the manager of the Texaco station for kicking the children out of the dry bay of his garage. I consoled the Nigerian 38 year old who was uninsured and worried that his Dad would explode. I cracked jokes with some gang bangers who were exceptionally polite (they were from Beaumont no less). I spoke Spanish for the better part of the evening with two life insurance salesmen from Colombia. I drank Yoohoo Sodas and ate Funions, something I hadn't done since 7th grade.

The rain didn't stop until 7:30. Houston amassed 22 inches of rain in 7 hours, this after being flooded partially on Tuesday night. The area where I was camped out received the brunt of it in the city as it was the section of I-10 right next to Buffalo Bayou which had already overflowed from the Tuesday downpour. My car was approximately sixteen feet under water. I would have been okay with all of that had I not found out that the police made a special trip to TC Jester to help a trucker move his cargo to higher ground. I was told the cargo was Ross Perot's nephew's Lamborgini Countache. It sat there atop the TC Jester overpass, directly above my submarine. The entire gas station was anxious to see it fall into the water. Justice would have been served.  I wasn't picked up until 9:30 and I couldn't get home until Sunday.

The lessons I learned from this experience:
1) Always carry a toothbrush with you where ever you go.
2) Pay attention to weather patterns.
3) People are generally friendly, once you get past their outer images.
...except for the manager of the Texaco Station at T.C. Jester and I-10.
4) Don't curse people out in a storm ...because you just might end up spending the night with them at a gas station.
5) Keep a pillow, blanket, 1st Aid kit, flashlight, poncho, water and batteries with you in the back of your car at all times (I had everything but the blanket).
6) Don't skimp on insurance ever.
7) Don't end dates early simply because you want to sleep.
8) Drive bigger cars.

In all honesty, I'm okay with what happened. I'm insured. I'm alive. There are people in far more dire straits than I could ever be. This is actually pretty minor now. My car is caked in mud. There are flies all over it, but it's been towed away and I have a claim number. ...I am now looking into trucks again. I'm done with small cars.
God bless everyone and stay out of the rain.

Dan

Sat 06/16/2001 12:06 AM
Mary Wenzel

Rick-
You know the 18-wheelers strewn along a section of the Katy Freeway near TC Jester that the news kept showing?  Looking like a train wreck in a river?  My dad lives about a mile north of that!  Yes! In the house I grew up in! Water had never been above the curb in at least 45 years. You may imagine the amount of stuff one can accumulate in 45 years!  Especially my dad, who grew up during the Depression (Pack Rat King)!  Also on the same street, my cousin and his wife recently bought a house. 

About the same time, a step-sister of mine begin renting a house on the street. All had about 3 feet (or more) water come into their houses. My dad was re-married last summer and was in the process of remodeling the house to suit his new wife, who has a house off W. Alabama near Kirby. Her house also flooded!  I had just started my 8 weeks of vacation (working for a school system has its perks), and I am spending it helping with clean-up!  At least I had time to help.

Fri 06/22/2001 2:11 PM
Rick Archer

Gary Richardson told me a story about a man from New Jersey who had just moved to Houston one week before the flood. He was so busy with his job he hadn't even had time to unpack or look for furniture. 

In fact the night the flood hit, this man went to bed early on his air mattress. In the middle of the night he awoke with a start. He knew something was terribly wrong, but in the darkness could not figure out what was happening to him. He put his hand on the floor and felt nothing but water everywhere!! He screamed in terror at the top of his lungs and clung to the air mattress. 

He continued to feel the water till he realized he was only floating in two feet of water in his own apartment. For a minute he had actually thought he had been alien-abducted!!  Slowly he paddled to the nearest window and ascertained where the water was coming from. Once he realized the situation, he calmed down. 

The next morning he calmly moved to an upstairs apartment. Welcome to Water World, Mister!!