How readers weathered the winter storm
Stories from front-line workers, worried relatives from out of state and senior citizens
Hospital heroes
I worked at my hospital Thursday to Sunday before the storm. I came home Sunday for a few hours and went back to work. I stayed at my hospital until Tuesday night and slept on the floor. The majority of the patients who came to the ER were homeless people needing a warm place and food to eat. We had to take care of them. The other group were oxygen-dependent people who lost power and needed O2 to survive. We also had to provide for them. At one point, we had 80 people either in the ER, waiting room or sitting in cars outside. To say the least, the ER staff was very stressed and fatigued. To my knowledge, there were no shelters on the west side of Houston that could have provided assistance. We never lost power, but we did lose water. Please remember all the frontline workers who provide critical services to the public. We are often overlooked.
Bill Moore, Houston
Cellular failed us
When the winter storm of 2021 hit, many of us hearty “beenthere-done-that-before” Texans thought we were prepared.
I myself had fond memories of making snowmen in my front yard in 1989, cozied up with hot chocolate, listening to my mother call her grandmother to discuss our plans to visit the Houston Ballet’s performance of “The Nutcracker” once the icy roads cleared. Yes, that’s right, I used the words “call.” As in remove the handset from its cradle, punch in actual buttons, hang it back up on the wall old-schoolstyle phone. When we went dark on Tuesday, the mobile phones that we use for everything — information, warnings, alerts, weather, banking — they all went blank. Citizens had no way to communicate two streets over, much less talk to worried family and friends across the country. Throughout the day, we received rogue text messages, intermittent data flashes and frenzied, staticfilled calls where all we could do was scramble to keep the connection, screaming “hello!” at the top of our lungs, jumping up and down in thousands of layers of pajama pants. The focus has been on the failure of ERCOT and the Texas power grid — and rightly so. I would argue that the failure of major mobile carriers to continue to connect us, despite the emergency situation, placed us in a more dire set of circumstances. What if we really, truly needed help? How would we reach anyone? How can we get important alerts, like boil water notices, if our power is off and our mobile data is the only thing connecting us to the world? I’m reminded of an old country song, “Here’s a quarter, call someone who cares.” What a shame they’ve taken down all the pay phones.
Kara French, Cypress
No radio news
I was a relatively minor victim of the recent winter storm. Through preparation, planning and execution, I suffered no freeze damage to my home. However, during the 27 hours that I was without power, from midnight Tuesday night to 3 a.m. Thursday, we had no contact with the outside world. When we lose power at my home in west Houston, we lose cell service. No phone, no texts, no internet.
No problem, I think, I will revert back to that planning and preparation that I did. I pull out the portable radio and the fresh batteries so that I can keep up with the events unfolding around me. Disaster prep 101.
This is where the plan breaks down. Do you think that there was any news and weather information being broadcast during this time? Nope, regular programming as far as the ear could hear. This was among the worst weather disasters that I have experienced since I moved here in the fall of 1989.
The best we could find was about 90 seconds of news at the top and bottom of each hour on 740 AM. We have always been assured that if we have our radio and batteries, that we would have some news of events when all of our TVs are out of action in a weather disaster.
The NBC affiliate here was showing nonstop storm coverage on TV, but if the power goes out and you lose internet, does anybody plan to broadcast the same information on the radio? Not that I could find.
Nick Kornuta, Houston
Palpable panic
The morning after the first snowfall, the first power loss, and bitter, freezing temperatures, my son and I took a ride in his pickup over snow-packed streets to see if other areas might have power. As I scanned street after street with no functioning streetlights, a horrifying thought set in: none of these people had power when they needed it most. Then my thoughts snowballed. What of my other children, my in-laws, the elderly, the infirm, infants, those with medical conditions, the unprepared, the poor? What of those families living in thinly insulated trailers? The panic and unease emanating from those households we saw was almost palpable, and for a brief moment, I didn’t recognize this state, or my country.
Brenden McBride, Katy
No hot chocolate
It was Monday morning. I woke up shivering, and immediately I knew it had snowed. I ran outside in a joyous frenzy and played on the ice until my fingers were pink. Then I went inside to warm up, not yet realizing I wouldn’t be able to.
Still freezing, I went upstairs to the bedroom my sister and I share to alert her that the power was out and it had snowed. I then found my phone and foolishly began using its battery to text my friends, few of whom had power.
It was then that I realized, this snow day would be like no other.
Normally, whenever it is cold out, my family would bake cookies, whip up hot chocolate, play games, watch lighthearted movies and not worry about staying warm because while it may be cold outside, it’d be toasty inside.
Unfortunately, the absolute opposite happened. Instead of cookies, we had chili. Instead of hot chocolate, we had tea. Instead of playing family games, we huddled up in blankets heated by our gas oven. Instead of movies, we had nightmares the few hours we slept. And instead of warmth, we had dark, desolate, lonely and cold.
Annabeth Golden, 12, Houston
Corpus Christi freeze
North Beach is my home. To the south over the Harbor Bridge is Corpus Christi, to the north is the long bridge leading to Portland. Both bridges were closed. Everything was closed here, no electricity and no water. It was the same in areas around here.
Before the freeze, I rolled down the hurricane shutters. During the blackout, there was no power to roll them up, and I was in total darkness. A candle gave me a dim light and kept my hands somewhat warm. Instead of doing my daily runs down the beach, I spent most of the time under heavy blankets trying to keep from freezing.
After four days of this, the bridges opened and my sister dared to cross the Harbor Bridge to bring me some goodies — including my first hot coffee in five days, drinking water and commode water. What a blessing for a 76-year young man! I feel for others less fortunate that have really suffered from this horrible freeze.
Juan Olivares, Corpus Christi
True public servants
My 90-year-old aunt — who lives alone in a retirement community — lost all of her power, leaving her without heat, water and no access to even her car for warmth because her garage door opener is electric. Living across the country, I was frantic knowing she was dealing with frigid temperatures among neighbors who also were elderly. I contacted the community outreach office of the Pearland police by email, never expecting to hear back that evening. To my surprise Assistant Chief Randall responded almost immediately copying Capt. Ybarra on the email. Together they arranged to dispatch an officer to go to my aunt’s home and check on her. Within the hour a young officer checked on my aunt, offered to transport her to a warming shelter and left his card informing her to call him if her or her neighbors needed anything. Ybarra reported back to me within the hour to report my aunt was safe. Reflecting on this event and then reading about Texas Sen. Ted Cruz’s behavior during this time, I could only think about the wide disparity of professionalism that occurred during this crisis.
Sherry Bassi, Groton, Conn.
Thankful for home
I live in my 62-year-old boyhood home. It has weathered the likes of hurricanes and Texas searing summer heat waves over the years. When the winter storm plunged the house into sub-freezing temperatures Sunday night, I was alone in the dark: no electricity, hearing the clock tick and wind howl outside. During the night, with a flashlight, I went out to check the galvanized pipes for leaks. It was as if I was holding the hand of an elder, whispering “hang on. It’ll be all right.” When the warmth and light returned, I heard the familiar pop and crack of the wooden beams expanding inside the walls and ceilings, as if they were saying, “we made it.” They don’t build houses like they used to.
Giving thanks where due.
Bill Pond, Humble
We survived
We lost power about 2 a.m. Sunday. We got about 2 inches of snow. My husband got me up and said we needed to start dripping our faucets. I filled up several empty gallon water jugs in case we lost water pressure.
Huge kudos and praise to our water company, Weston MUD. We never lost water pressure.
Our gas stayed on, too. We lit a couple of burners to add some heat to the house after opening the kitchen window some for ventilation. We put cardboard in windows to block some of the cold. Temperature inside was 58-64 degrees. We slept in our clothes. Our deep freezer stayed frozen because we kept it closed; we didn’t lose anything. We opened the refrigerator only when necessary. We ate a lot of canned soup heated on the stove. Our pipes didn’t freeze like many of our neighbors because we kept them dripping. We covered our plants, but will have to see if they survive. We survived, and I managed to get to my second COVID-19 vaccination appointment. We have some health issues, but nothing that having no power affects.
Put succinctly: Reliant just wasn’t.