Sun Sentinel Palm Beach Edition
After Harvey, 2 Houstons emerge: 1 ravaged, 1 not
HOUSTON — More than a week after Harvey swamped the greater Houston area, the metropolis is divided into two cities: one still covered with water and flood debris, the other largely unblemished by the storm.
Some subdivisions remain submerged, and many streets are piled high with ruined belongings. But in unscathed areas, the only reminder of high water may be a layer of silt on the streets, damp curbs or the mildew-like whiff of disaster.
On a leafy street corner in the city’s Montrose section, a group of children set up a Labor Day lemonade stand in a neighborhood that generally has nothing worse than standing water for a week after heavy rain.
Even after Harvey, homes were not damaged and streets drained quickly.
“We’re lucky. We didn’t lose power,” said Sara Beck, whose 5-year-old son, Waylon, shouted “lemonade” at passing cars.
Hushing her voice selfconsciously, she added, “or even internet.”
“They call it survivor’s guilt,” said Emily Covey.
“Why did we not get it and all these people around us did?” asked Covey, who has several friends who still cannot get back into their water-logged homes to begin the cleanup.
The women’s children planned to give the proceeds of their lemonade sales to a charity for flood victims. Their hand-drawn sign with a smiley-faced lemon included the hashtag “Houstonstrong.”
Wearing hip waders and a construction dust mask, Gaston Kirby pulled a raft through waist-deep waters Monday to retrieve belongings from his home near the Addicks and Barker reservoirs, where officials were still releasing water that could inundate neighbors for well over a week.
Elsewhere, life went on as usual across much of the city. Coffee shops, restaurants and stores that had been closed for days began to reopen.
Couples sipped wine as they shopped at Whole Foods in Montrose. A steady stream of joggers and cyclists passed through a park along the swollen Buffalo Bayou.
Some high-priced homes near the Buffalo Bayou were submerged in floodwaters still up to first-floor windows.
Janet Amirseif stood near her flooded street Sunday and said it would be a long time before her life returned to anything resembling normal.
“People in downtown? Nothing. Here, it’s just mayhem,” she said. “It’s over? No, it’s just started.”
Homeowners, their friends, volunteers and contractors near Brays Bayou have been hauling soggy furniture to the curb for days and tearing out floors and busting walls so waterlogged homes can dry out in preparation for repairs. Lawns are piled high with possessions.
James Kennedy had purchased a glossy black standup piano to replace one ruined in the Memorial Day flood of 2015. Now the $10,000 replacement was also out of tune and out of time.
On most Labor Days, Kennedy’s three kids would be swimming at the community pool. He would be smoking brisket in the backyard, and Chablis would be chilling in the cooler.
Instead, he was with his 13-year-old son, to salvage tools and anything else he could save while waiting for an insurance adjuster to arrive.
Kennedy, who towed his wife and kids to safety on an inflatable mattress, had been working 14-hour days at the house since the flood hit. He bemoaned the loss of keepsakes like baby photos that can’t be replaced or Grateful Dead albums, cassettes and ticket stubs from 103 concerts.
Looking over the pile of construction debris, waterstained photos and Rollerblades in his front yard, he found his son’s tarnished sterling silver birth mug and pulled it from the trash.
“This has been a very character-defining thing,” Kennedy said. “Some people have put their whole life on hold. Others took selfies, standing in water up to their ankles, and complained about having to redo their flower beds.”