THE HURRICANES

"I looked up at some point during the second half of the storm, after the eye had passed over us, and watched the bright yellow rain slicker that was my step father go tromping across the yard, for God only knows what reason, and his goofy and faithful dog following happily behind him. I often reflect on my family sitting around inside, watching and laughing."

"After Ike, we noticed the sign for the Weather Museum. It was pointing at a downed tree. It seemed wildly appropriate."

"We biked into Hermann Park and were overwhelmed by the sight of 300 trees snapped in half or completely uprooted. But over the following days, the Park and became a center of community healing. Hundreds of people of all ages came to help rake leaves and pick up branches. Many more came to escape the heat at home and find refuge with their children. Here, every place you walked, people would smile and thank everyone holding a rake. What an amazing time."

"You Know You're from the Gulf Coast When... • You have FEMA's number on your speed dial. • You have more than 300 'C' and 'D' batteries in your kitchen drawer. • Your pantry contains more than 20 cans of Spaghetti O's. • You are thinking of repainting your house to match the plywood covering your windows. • When describing your house to a prospective buyer, you say it has three bedrooms, two baths and one safe hallway. • Your SSN isn't a secret, it's written in Sharpie on your arms. • You are on a first-name basis with the cashier at Home Depot. • You are delighted to pay $3 for a gallon of regular unleaded. • The road leading to your house has been declared a No-Wake Zone. • You decide that your patio furniture looks better on the bottom of the pool. • You own more than three large coolers. • You can wish that other people get hit by a hurricane and not feel the least bit guilty about it. • You have 2-liter coke bottles an d milk jugs filled with water in your freezer. • Three months ago you couldn't hang a sh
ower curtain; today you can assemble a portable generator by candlelight. • You catch a 13-pound redfish - in your driveway. • You can recite from memory whole portions of your homeowner's insurance policy. • You consider a "vacation" to stunning Tupelo, Mississippi. • At cocktail parties, women are attracted to the guy with the biggest chainsaw. • You have had tuna fish more than 5 days in a row. • There is a roll of tarpaper in your garage. • You can rattle off the names of three or more meteorologists who work at the Weather Channel. • Someone comes to your door to tell you they found your roof. • You find ice an interesting topic of conversation. • Your "drive-thru" meal consists of MRE's and bottled water. • Relocating to South Dakota does not seem like such a crazy idea. • You spend more time on your roof than in your living room. • You've been laughed at over the phone by a roofer, fence builder or a tree worker. • A battery-powered TV is considered a home entertainment center. • You don't worry about relatives wanting to visit during the summer."

"When the mayor said on the radio: "it's going to be hard, but we're Texans" ... I got goose bumps and I have been living here for less than 4 years."

"After a hurricane, the biggest fact of life is lines. Lines for ice. Lines at gas stations. Lines for cash. Lines for food. Lines behind dead lights at intersections. At 2 p.m. one week after Ike, a line of over twenty cars waited at the drive through at Whataburger. We are so desparate that we will wait an hour for a fast food. Some of the greatest thrills of this week were lines avoided. Although it flooded, the Indian/Pakistani restaurant Himalaya opened several days after Ike. Chef Kaiser offered a tasty sampler plate of chicken tiki masala, minced goat, spicy ground beef, rice, and mint yogurt. And I did not even have to wait for a table. In this world of lines, eating at Himalaya without a wait was a real thrill."