Houston, Texas, September 19, 2019.
Thursday morning I left the house for work. I arrived at the site a few minuets before 7:30. As I entered the drive a light sprinkle settled on the windshield. The radio broadcast a report of heavy rains and flooding north and east. The weather events were ten miles away. Listening to the radio and watching the cloud movement the storm looked to be moving away. I was good!
The radio weather news made the absurd comparison of this not then named tropical storm to Hurricane Harvey.
By 9:30 am we evacuated the facility and I began my roughly fifteen mile commute back home. Twelve hours later I entered the gravel drive to my house.
The roads I drove to work on were damp from a light early morning rain. Two hours later most of them were underwater. Rain came down at a 45 degree angle and strong winds punished the trees. The heavy 2006 Acura MDX was solid, sure footed and high enough to keep up with unaltered, two wheel drive half ton pickup trucks. I made it eight or ten miles before I got to water deeper than I was willing to traverse. I did not use the AWD but I took advantage of the extra ground clearance of the vehicle. I needed a place to wait out the storm.
I stayed at the second place I considered for a layover. The Walgreens pharmacy I stayed at turned out to be fortuitous. A few miles before reaching this place the engine light came on. The car ran smoothly but I idled the car for 20 minutes in the hope the engine heat would evaporate some of the moisture on under the hood. In that time I called my mechanic, he advised me it was OK to kill the engine. I followed his advise and checked the engine would restart. It did. In all the high water I crossed none had entered the cabin interior.
It was now 10:30 - 11:00 am. The rain had decreased to a heavy downpour. I expected the rain to drain off in two to four hours. I used the time to connect with co-workers, friends and family. I let people know my location and that I was OK.
I knew from sheltering through hurricanes that texting was the most reliable communication. I had a pretty good set up.
I had a large, secure, reliable vehicle. In the vehicle I had more than half a case of bottled water, and a first aid kit. I carried a back pack. Some of the backpack accouterments were a camp knife, ibuprofen, allergy meds, a powerful flashlight, a pair of scissors, a couple pair of socks, a partial role of toilet paper (in a zip lock bag), sunscreen, a cigarette lighter, and some frozen left overs (my intended lunch) and other sundry things. I had taken to carrying a Leatherman Tool on my belt a few days prior. I also carried a pen light in my shirt pocket. I had my work issued I-Phone.
Despite my general preparedness I lacked a few things. My vehicle had about 1/8 of a tank of fuel, roughly 55 miles until empty by the trip computer. I rarely let the tank get below 1/4 tank but I had had gotten lax. I also did not have a chord to charge my phone, though I did have a cigarette adapter. I had no pen or pencil or paper. I also had no cash. It turned out that with the exception of the pen and paper I needed none of these things. In that I count myself fortunate.
After several hours I advised all active contacts I was OK, not to come for me and to not text me except for emergency. I wanted to save my cell phone battery. Some folks had a hard time with this and I regretted not answering their phone calls. I needed to keep the phone alive if more rain came or if I chose to relocate. I would need to advise key people.
In the next few hours I watched several vehicles catastrophically flood. Most swamping or flooding of vehicles is avoidable. People conglomerated in the parking lot. Waters rose.
About this time I needed to find a restroom. I figured this was not the time to assume civilization was superseded or suspended. I went inside the Walgreens and explained my situation to one of the employees. I attempted to buy a bag of potato chips and a candy bar but the credit card machine was not working. Cash was accepted, but I had none.
I went back to the car. The rain let up from time to time. When the rain was slack I walked about and evaluated the situation. The parking lot became a tiny deserted island.
Several hours later I went back inside the pharmacy to use the restroom. The clerk I had spoken with earlier told me the credit card machine was now working. I bought the chips, candy bar, a pack of pens and a spiral notebook.
The old school pen and paper turned out to be good investments. They helped me cope with the monotony and anxiety. They also helped me conserve my cell phone battery. Should I need to abandon the vehicle I could now leave a note.
At 3:30 I was surprised the water had not receded. Cars continued to swamp.
I need to define what a swamped or flooded vehicle is. This is when the vehicle's engine has taken water in through the air filter into the top half of the engine. Once the vehicle stalls water typically floods the vehicle cabin, especially when the door is opened.
When water enters an engine combustion chamber or cylinder the engine technically explodes. Remember though, an engine is a sealed mechanism. The vehicles I watched swamp just quietly, gently slowed to a stop. I watched this happen seven or eight times. The car would slow and come to a non dramatic stop. Then an oil slick would emanate from the ruined vehicle.
The people I met were like Houstonians in other disasters, diverse, kind, patient, courteous and friendly. I found it helpful to socialize and speak to people. I listened more than I talked. I noticed people are by nature, risk takers. I witnessed a powerful drive in people, and myself, to go and be home.
In the parking lot one couple argued loudly. There is nothing wrong with arguing or being loud, but they were clearly stressed. By 8:00 I felt the effects of the day on me strong. I told myself I would wait until 9:00 to leave, and I did. Even then I drove through several hundred yards of high waters.
I made it home by 9:30 pm
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