This article was originally published in The University Press, Lamar University’s student newspaper, on Sept. 27, 2018.
Story by Eleanor Skelton
UP contributor
When Harvey dropped four feet of water on Southeast Texas in 2017, I thought I was ready. After all, I lived through the Waldo Canyon Fire and the Black Forest Fire that swept through Colorado Springs, two of the most destructive wildfires in Colorado history.
But as I huddled with my cats in my apartment complex off-campus, I watched the water rise in my parking lot, lapping at the curb of the sidewalk just outside my front door.
And it just kept coming.
I bought gallons of distilled water from Wal-Mart and enough non-perishable food for several meals. However, when the City of Beaumont lost water for a week, I realized the four jugs I had for me and my two cats wasn’t enough. If a semi hadn’t arrived at my church delivering pallets of water, I would have run out.
Many Southeast Texans weren’t ready when the rains came because Harvey originally headed for Corpus Christi, more than a four-hour drive away from Beaumont. Stocking up on emergency supplies seemed like overkill.
Once the storm headed north, there wasn’t time to evacuate — but I couldn’t leave my job anyway.
The primary lesson to be learned is to get more water than one thinks one will need. The idea behind prepping is basically to store enough to last until semis loaded with supplies can make it through flooded roads and replenish the stores.
When I woke up to no running water on my birthday early that Thursday morning, I knew I didn’t have enough water. Ready.gov recommends one gallon a day for each person in the house. Water purification tablets or a Life Straw would have been a good idea, especially since the water wasn’t potable when it came back several days later.
And having four cans of beans does not a survival kit make. Food for a disaster kit should have a long shelf life, be easy to prepare (doesn’t need to be heated or refrigerated) and high in nutritional value.
I also realized there are other ways to cook food. One of my neighbors started pulling frozen food out of his thawing freezer, cooked it on another neighbor’s barbecue grill and they offered it to us. A frozen pot pie warmed on a barbecue grill tastes different than the microwaved version, but it was warm and I was hungry.
It’s not just water and food that one needs to think of. Proper clothing really helps.
I was glad my parents had bought me an L.L. Bean raincoat back in high school. But what I didn’t realize I needed until it was too late was a good pair of rain boots. There is nothing more uncomfortable and annoying than squelching through flood water in sneakers — and they, nor my feet, ever seemed to dry out.
The stores were all out of rainboots, but my best friend in Atlanta found a Dallas couple on Twitter who were bringing relief supplies. My one request was a pair of boots. I’m still so grateful for those size eights.
The most useful items I already owned were my solar-powered gadgets — a phone charging bank, a flashlight and a radio with a hand crank. I charged all of them in my windowsill before the storm and every day during the storm, although there wasn’t much sunlight coming through the clouds.
After the internet, and then the power, disconnected, I listened to the rain pummel the roof during the most pitch-black night I’ve ever waited out. I set my phone alarm for every two hours make sure the water wasn’t up to my door yet. But I had my flashlight to see my way, the radio to keep up with the news, and my phone in case I needed to call for help — although the service was spotty and required me going to the second floor balcony with my head at a weird angle under my raincoat hood to get enough signal.
Other useful items include a first aid kit, extra prescription medications, cash, toilet paper, antibacterial hand sanitizer and toiletries. And all of this can fit into a plastic tote under the bed.
We still have several weeks of hurricane season left. Fingers crossed, none of this will be needed this year.
But you never know.
Eleanor Skelton 