PHOTOGRAPHER EXPERIENCES RISING FLOODWATERS FIRSTHAND
Iknow how it happens. Now.
How people in heavy downpours get stranded or killed driving their vehicles through flood waters. They see a mirage. I saw a mirage. It’s a nasty mind trick that nature played on me and a wishful way out of a bad situation that led me further into danger.
For background, I have lived in Houston for 18 years, and have covered every weather event in this city for as many years. You name the hurricane, tropical storm or fast-moving thunderstorm... I have managed to make my way through this city without so much as a scratch on my car. I have never run out of gas (again, multiple hurricanes with gas shortages), no car accidents, no flooded cars, until the wee hours of Tuesday morning.
Thousands of Houstonians know exactly where they were after the Houston Rockets won Game 4 against the Golden State Warriors. Even if they were not at the game, they knew of the game because in its aftermath, it became an emergency storm shelter for stranded fans.
I finished shooting the game, packed up my car and headed to my home in the Heights. I thought I could outsmart others and take surface streets through North Houston - my route led me past UH Downtown and wound up North Main Street. I soon discovered North Main at the overpass to I-45 was flooded. Just as an unlucky driver dove into the abyss at Main, I diverted and kept moving up Fulton behind an impossibly slow driver. I remember honking at them, hoping they would move faster.
After an eternity, I came to Patton. Although I had planned to keep going to Cavalcade, and try to cross over, I decided that I would take Patton and try to work over to Main Street.
The underpass of I-45 at Patton was under water, but was passable. I could have possibly stayed there, had it not been for a truck full of men that were pushing a late-model truck up to a darkened parking area. I coaxed my car through the waters and the men all looked at me. Should I have stayed on that patch of gravel alone with those men, even as the hair on the back of my neck stood up? No, I pushed forward, in water that was deep, but manageable.
The water started getting deeper, but... I pushed ahead when I saw a small hill in front of me. Higher ground! It beckoned to me and I was like a moth to that flame. Just a little farther....
Bam! I hit that wall of water like I was blind. NO! I couldn’t believe I hit water when I felt for sure I was about to find safety. NO! All I wanted to do was back up 10 minutes and rethink staying under I-45. Suddenly I was surrounded by water, and when I hit it, the river was slapping up just below the window of the Jeep. It settled down a little after the car came to a rest..... shuddering for a minute as it adjusted to the current. I now know that current of water, when it comes alive during storms, is known as the Little White Oak Bayou.
I managed a quick call to my husband, to let him know I had stalled. I told him I was okay, and I quickly got off the phone as I felt the cold water start to seep into the floor well of the car. I could not panic while on the phone with him. I just could not. He would try to come out and save me, and possibly get into the same or worse mess. I chose to call a co-worker leaving the game after me. I thought he might be close. He was in his own driving nightmare. I dialed my boss, Steve Gonzales.
I think at one point through
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