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Edited on Sat Sep-20-08 11:40 AM by JeffreyWilliamson
Hello Everyone,
In our heated thread last night discussing the body count, zombie corpse resurrections, and general alien invasion paranoia stemming from developments in South Texas, I was asked for specifics on what I saw Monday in G-Town. Here's that account:
Monday, September 15, 2008
I was checking the news on my phone at about 11:00 when I was suddenly hit with a barrage of text messages all saying the same thing: "Dude, you can get onto the island from 12 - 6!" My friend Joey and I borrowed a truck from his brother, (since my car and his truck went for a swim in the drink Friday night), and headed out at about 1:30pm. While awaiting our new wheels, we started a list of friends who wanted their digs checked when we got there--about 10 houses in all by the time we got on the road.
We rode out the storm with Joey's sister and family in Hitchcock, about 10 miles due north of the island. So due north, in fact, that we got smacked with Hurricane Ike's eye about 15 minutes after Galveston. The house here is on stilts, and filled to the brim with kids, cats, and annoying lap dogs that screech every time one removes them from one's self. Also, mosquitoes the size of your fist and did I mention the kids have Crayola markers? Yeah, they do, and they aren't afraid to use them--but we're getting off subject here. We stayed at this location so that we could be the first back onto the island...
So of course we thought we'd make the quick 10 - 15 minute drive onto the island and get to work, but we discovered as we got onto I-45 South that about 20,000 other people also had the same thing in mind. (As an aside, kind of interesting they'd let soooo many people drive onto the island with all those bodies littering the streets, hanging in trees, etc., isn't it?) I took a camcorder with me and stood in the bed of the truck filming everything we saw. I say everything, but I really mean the interesting things, because frankly there isn't enough camcorder tape in the universe to hold all the footage I could have taken of us moving at a brisk 0.05 MPH, sweating like dogs, smelling stinky garbage on the side of the road. Also, it was boring.
Here's what we saw on our ride in:
1. Lots of debris lining the roads. The whole freeway appeared to have gone under, and it was obvious that officials had come through and bulldozed it into piles to clear the road. It consisted of boards from broken-up houses and piers, grass, seaweed, boats, cars, barrels of crap, buoys, refrigerators, etc. It was nuts and stank to high heaven. Looking back, the lack of bodies was striking, as well as the apparent abundance of heavy moving equipment that must have been diverted from the West End or Bolivar in order to give us a tidy freeway to not go anywhere fast on. I would have thought that those bulldozers could have been put to better use piling up the corpses across the bay, but I guess Blackwater has that handled. Or maybe all those corpses on Bolivar got turned into zombies due to leakage from UTMB's disease lab and just walked to Beaumont or something. Maybe they went to Vidor--those racists need an a*$-kicking. Oh wait, did I mention we didn't all die from Smallpox after visiting my cousin's house off 8th Street and Church near UTMB? But now we're getting off subject again, (and before anyone gets on my case about the snarkiness in this section, I really, really just needed to blow off some steam, so please give me a pass on it).
2. Some girls were riding in a truck bed behind us, and Joey and I saw one fall off the side onto the road. Awesome feat considering their truck wasn't even moving. She acted all hurt and laid in the road for a minute. Then she got up and got in someone's car. Sick but was the funniest thing I've seen in a while. We laughed our tails off for the remainder of our 10 mile, 2 1/2 hour drive. No kidding it was "Jawsome", (bonus points if you can plug that reference down thread).
3. We saw a dead dog on the feeder road. He looked like he had been hit by a vehicle after the storm. I didn't film it because I couldn't bear to look at it. He was probably starving and trying to find something to eat or fresh water to drink. He deserved better than that.
4. When we got to the checkpoint at Tiki Island just before the Causeway, the filth got tired of putting double L's onto cars and told us they were taking a break and to just go on--which we did, with gusto!
The Causeway was pretty clear of traffic and after the checkpoint it took us just a couple of minutes to get onto the island. We finally got to see what had become of the city:
1. Boats--yachts, shrimp boats, sailboats--lining the streets and in the middle of intersections.
2. Military Humvees patrolling everywhere. We had unrestricted access to go anywhere on the island we wanted, including the West End, but they were definitely there keeping control. Ball High has been turned into a military and refugee center. There was so much activity there we couldn't get within 3 blocks of the place. The Academy Sports and Outdoors on Seawall has been turned into a tent city for military personnel. Wal-Mart's parking lot appeared to be a base for civilian relief groups, although I don't know which one(s).
3. Packs of dogs were roaming the streets. Some with broken chains and ropes tied to their collars. They got tired of waiting for help and had taken matters into their own hands. It was interesting to watch them, how they were reverting to their true selves and organizing into groups as soon as their handlers were no longer around offering food and water. Very efficient...
4. The houses all have colored stickers or spray paint. Green means safe or evacuated, orange means death. We saw one orange mark, and I have read news stories of a couple of other places the press has seen with orange "D's" on them. Just about every home has the green paint or sticker, including mine, (because the neighbors told S&R that we had gotten out).
5. The storm was extremely selective. On the surface, when you look past the debris, the city appears to have faired well. Upon closer inspection it looks as if the storm took every tenth-or-so house on each street and just blew them apart. Nothing but timber and bathtubs remain. Also, roofs are torn off almost everything, and shingles litter every street and yard. Palm trees were on the ground everywhere.
6. Just about every vehicle that stayed on the island appears to have gone under to some degree. They're nothing more than paperweights now. The street lights and gas stations were all gone, so they wouldn't do anyone much good anyway.
We went to the East End by UTMB, downtown towards The Strand, the west part of town where I live and work, and the West End of the island where we have friends. The island is decimated, but it's not as bad as some appear to want it to be.
I have to take a break for a little while, will post more here in this thread later this afternoon.
Jeffy
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