Riding out Harvey, as the floodwaters rose over our heads
An Israeli living in Houston rethought her decision not to evacuate once water started to come in through the walls. Hours later, with beds and TVs bobbing in the water, she and her family were finally rescued
HOUSTON,Texas (AP) — At 4:30
a.m. Sunday, my husband, Rafi, woke me up. “There’s water in our
bathroom. We need to look around,” he said.
Our
sunroom already had six inches of water. Outside, the water was right
at our door. My son’s room was picking up water from the backyard. We
woke everyone and put towels at the doors.
It seems silly now, but at the time it seemed the right thing to do.
And then the water just started rushing in through the walls. Within an hour it was at my ankles.
We moved our picture albums to counters. We
picked up laundry baskets, clothes from bottom drawers and shoes. My
boys — 10-year-old Eliran, 14-year-old Ron and 15-year-old Shaked —
grabbed the summer homework they had spent hours completing and put it
on top shelves — no way they were going to redo that! Laptops went to
the kitchen counter along with tablets and phones.
Text messages flew between neighbors: It was
only 6 a.m. and the water was at the middle of my shin. A neighbor and
colleague from work said he had more than a foot of water inside and was
calling for rescue. I decided we could wait a little longer. Surely
there were people in greater need.
This
Sunday, August 27, 2017, photo provided by Ramit Plushnick-Masti, shows
a toy sailboat floating in the kitchen of her flooded home in Houston’s
Meyerland neighborhood. (Ramit Plushnick-Masti via AP)
By 7:30 a.m. I knew we needed to leave. The
water was just under my knees. I grabbed Ziploc bags and stuffed two
pairs of jeans, two T-shirts, underwear and moisturizer inside. I took
all the chargers and went to the kitchen. The water was at my knees.
I called 911 and told them we needed to evacuate. I was still calm. I explained that we were fine for now but need to get out.
And then we waited.
No thought of fleeing
Houston has seen hurricanes, tropical storms
and floods. But even for me, a non-native Houstonian, it had been clear
since Thursday this was not going to be a typical event.
The days and hours that followed became a blur
of activity. My mind was working overtime. I wanted to make sure my
sons were safe. Food, gas and cash were also priorities.
The local waterway was high, but looked like it could take more rain
But then, there was work. I am the director of
communications at the Houston Forensic Science Center (HFSC), the
city’s crime lab, and we had to make sure evidence was secure. As a
former Associated Press journalist, my crisis management instincts
kicked into high gear as the storm approached.
The forecasts for Harvey were terrifying.
Still, our Houston neighborhood of Meyerland was not told to evacuate,
and since we moved to Houston in 2010 we had been through four floods.
We didn’t really consider fleeing. Either way,
I would have had to remain in the city because I am an essential
employee at work.
A family evacuates their Meyerland home in Houston, August 27, 2017. (Mark Mulligan/Houston Chronicle via AP)
It rained hard from Friday into Saturday, but
it slowed down by mid-morning Saturday. Our family, along with many
others in the neighborhood, went out to peek at our local waterway,
Braes Bayou. It was high, but looked like it could take more rain.
We went to the supermarket to buy strawberries, Klondike bars and peaches — hurricane necessities.
And then, around 7 p.m. on Saturday, the
deluge began. The skies opened, and massive amounts of rain fell. The
weather report predicted more, but we went to sleep — until my husband
woke me in the pre-dawn hours Sunday.
Waiting for help on kitchen cabinets
As the water rose in our home and we awaited
rescue, my two older boys went to lie down: one on the dining room table
and the other on his now-floating bed. The higher the water got, the
more polluted it looked. There were huge cockroaches crawling from the
muck.
At 11:30 a.m. there was a loud splash. The TV
in the living room had tumbled into the water. The fire department had
answered our call but could not say when they would arrive. My boys were
getting nervous.
The water was more than halfway up the lower
kitchen cabinets. I called 911 again, and friends sent some phone
numbers for the Coast Guard. Emergency dispatchers answered, but
couldn’t indicate where in the evacuation effort we might fall. The
Coast Guard phone numbers were busy.
We sat on the kitchen counters. The water hit
the top panel of the dishwasher. It was 12:30 p.m. It was clear we
needed to do something other than just wait.
The water outside was over my head and I had to swim. On the boat were several other families, including two elderly people, a 6-month old baby and two dogs
We had already posted pictures to Facebook of
our inundated house. Now, it was time for some Facebook crowdsourcing.
So I posted that we needed someone with a boat in Meyerland to get us
out. The two older boys and my husband got on the roof to try to flag
down boats going down what had once been Wigton Drive, but was now a
roaring river.
People shared the post, and quickly we got on
an evacuation list put together by a neighborhood rabbi who had
organized some people with motorboats to evacuate residents.
The boys grabbed some clothes and we put
everything in garbage bags. At 2 p.m. a boat arranged by the rabbi
arrived. The water in our house was waist high. We needed to get out
from the laundry room.
The washing machine had turned on its side in
the water, and so had the stand-up freezer. We climbed over it and out
into the driveway.
The water outside was over my head and I had
to swim. On the boat were several other families, including two elderly
people, a 6-month old baby and two dogs. As we made our way toward the
local church that had become a shelter, the boat’s propeller hit the
ground and we all got off.
Wading through knee-high water, with white
plastic garbage bags full of clothing and laptops on our shoulders, we
made our way toward the church, which had no power. There were at least
100 people there and no cots, but it was dry, and we made it our home
for the night.
We made a ravioli dinner, using a flashlight
to see, and we slept on the floor. But we knew we were lucky. Others had
water in their homes over their heads and had broken through their
roofs to get out. Elderly people did not have their medicine. Everything
we lost is material. We will rebuild, and our family is whole.
At 11:30 p.m. Sunday night, as I was about to go to sleep at the church, my phone rang.
It was the Houston Fire Department, calling to ask if we had gotten to dry ground — 16 hours after I had first called for help.
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