As frustrations mount over delays in providing basic supplies to survivors of Hurricane Ike, the first glimpses of previously inaccessible areas revealed a string of ghost towns reduced to rubble. Search and rescuers from the Sacramento Metro Fire Department found 60 survivors on the Bolivar Peninsula, the sliver of sand that sits across Galveston Bay from the city of Galveston, according to the Associated Press. Emergency officials estimate that 400 to 500 of the 30,000 residents remained on the Peninsula during the storm; officials plan to keep searching into the night on Monday, and remain uncertain of what the death toll will be.... The bay was littered with people's belongings, parts of homes, water heaters, even remains of cattle and other debris. Onshore, the entire Bolivar community was covered in several inches of mud and the scope of the loss is almost incomprehensible.
At first, it almost appeared that the death toll from Hurricane Ike might not be as bad as initially feared. Now that officials are able to get to some of the more remote parts of Galveston Island and the Bolivar Peninsula, though, it's begining to look as if that may not be the case at all. Ike has disappeared entire towns- small towns, to be sure, but you're talking about two long, thin spits off the Texas coast that took the brunt of what Ike had to offer- and lost everything, including any people who may have been foolhardy enough to think they could ride the storm out. If you haven't experienced a hurricane, it would be difficult for me to explaing the destructive and deadly power that can be contained within a storm that, in the case of Ike, was a large as the state of Texas.
Yeah, EVERYTHING'S bigger in Texas....
Living here in the Pacific Northwest, there's nothing that could or would ever approximate the scope and power of a hurricane. Hell, people here freak out if an inch of rain falls; I can't even imagine what would happen here if something along the lines of a hurricane were to strike the Oregon coast.
When you begin thinking that you're having a bad day, how about trying this on for a little dose of perspective? You could call Galveston, TX home. If you do, your home now looks like something off the set of a "Mad Max" movie.
I should find out today if I'll be sent to Texas to help deal with the aftermath. I may not like the place, but I still care about the people I left behind, and my heart is breaking for those friends who may not have a home to return to. If I can do a little something to help, well, count me in.
