No, Not My Hometown!

The other day, in honor of my home state, I posted some pictures that I took of the Jersey Shore.  The warnings were severe for Irene. There were mandatory evacuations throughout the state.  Now that I live in the Gulf, I was hesitant to believe all the hype.  Was it really going to be that bad or was the media sensationalizing it for ratings? I couldn't decide.  The more I thought about it though, the more I defended the East Coast.

Yes, when it "snows" (read that as light dusting) in Houston, I've laughed how the entire city shuts down.  But this last winter, which was brutal for everyone but in particular hit the East Coast pretty hard, someone pointed out that Houston doesn't have anything to prepare for big snowfall.  So, yeah, the city shuts down for just over an inch of snow but there's no way to plow/salt the roads and there are A LOT of inexperienced snow drivers in the area.  It finally hit me.  Pretty much, Houston has to shut down.

 Internet Photo. I couldn't resist a Houston dog sitting in snow.

Yes, Northeasterners, this is what I'm referencing that shuts down the city.

But I repeat, if not prepared, what else should we expect?

Well, the same can be said for the parts of the East Coast that were hit with Irene.  I never knew what hurricane season was until I moved to the Gulf.  There's no preparation back home like there is here.  We have supplies for a hurricane in our house; we have hurricane boards measured for our windows; we will soon have a generator.  These concepts were completely foreign to me until I moved here--and I'm typically prepared for the unexpected!

I spent most of Saturday defending the evacuations and reactions of the East Coast.  "Sure Manhattan evacuated, it IS an island!"  "This isn't something that typically happens. They're not prepared." Etc, etc, etc.

We watched the coverage on Saturday night.  Irene seemed to be a bit less of a bitch than originally thought.  She hit North Carolina at a Category 1.  Knowing that Ike was a Category 3--while yes, it was severe, it wasn't as bad as it could have been--I assumed this meant the East Coast was relatively safe.

By the time I woke up Sunday morning, I had essentially pushed it out of my head.  And then I started trolling Facebook.  That's when I saw this picture of the Garden State Parkway at the exit that runs through my hometown.

 Internet Photo. The shot that made me realize how bad Irene had hit the town I love most in the world.

I had never seen the Parkway flood before.  I started to panic.  I called my father and found out that his house was under water.  He went through a wide range of emotions in the short time we were on the phone. Anger. Sadness. Acceptance. He said that he was one of the "lucky" ones on his block because the water didn't hit his first floor.  At the time I spoke with him, the water was a foot shy of the first floor and he wasn't sure if it was going to continue to rise.  He told me that the water went way farther out than Hurricane Floyd.

 File Photo. My father's house.

He took this as a neighbor was canoeing him over to the house to see the damage.

I started calling friends.  Most of my friends are out of my hometown now but their parents still live in the houses they grew up in.  These are the houses I know. The ones that we have so many memories in.  Some friends were spared.  Others were not.

 Internet Photo. Of all the shots I saw online, this one I found the most chilling.

The river just expanded all the way through town.

The police station had to be evacuated.

I went online this morning and looked through photos of my hometown.  It was really sad to see.  I think that it's normal to have a genuine love for where you grew up.  But I could feel the tears start to well up in my eyes when I looked at the downtown.  I grew up in such a wonderful place and although I decided to move away (Note: this choice was made due to circumstances. It's still my favorite place on Earth), it broke my heart to see the town in so much despair.  There are supposed to be generations after me making their own memories on the same wonderful streets.

Irene may not be categorized as a Katrina or an Ike but for the families back home, it's all too real destruction.  If you happen to be reading this from a place that typically gets hit by severe hurricanes, please understand that there are a lot of small towns that make up the Mid-Atlantic and New England. Sure, New York City didn't get hit as badly as everyone feared, and that seems to be what the national news is reporting. But remember, there are a lot of people in those small towns that did get hit really hard.  My heart goes out to them--those I know and those I've never crossed paths with.