Recently gave a talk about Houston to a group in Stockholm featuring the build-up to and experience of Hurricane Harvey. Returning to almost two years ago and stitching together what happened between the evening of Friday, August 25 and Saturday, August 26 offered a view of what in means to hail from H-Town. Begin the Begin.
Harvey achieved birth as a tropical wave off the northwestern cost of Africa and then moved through many incarnations across the Atlantic and finally into the Gulf Coast. Houstonians tracked whirling bands of rain and wind filled August days, much as they still do, with anticipation, dread, worry; and then that quintessential experience of approaching catastrophe, when mind and body settle into a numb appreciation of destruction colored in aesthetically pleasing blue, green, orange and yellow. As much as the present demanded attention, my mind also wandered back over previous tropical waves becoming hurricanes.
Ah, Katrina. Category 5 Hurricane that painted devastating white swirls in Florida on August 25 and Louisiana August 29 2005. Wind, rain and levees.
Overall, at least 1,836 people died in the hurricane and subsequent floods with total property damage estimated at 125 billion dollars.
The Mississippi River breached levees flooding much of eastern New Orleans and most of St. Bernard Parish, which left approximately 80% of the city under water. 250,000 evacuees temporarily relocated to Houston, with about 40,000 staying permanently. Living in a bungalow at Florence and Byrne in the Heights, we watched screens depict the ruin and wreckage. Horrible, absolutely horrible from nature to government and back again. And then, three weeks later, Rita.
Oh my, a Category 3 Hurricane again painted white swirls on landfall, but this time at the Texas and Louisiana border on September 24, 2005. Galveston County ordered mandatory evacuations, effective Wednesday September 21 at 6 p.m., in a staggered sequence. Officials designated geographical zones in the area to facilitate an orderly evacuation. People were scheduled to leave at different times over a 24-hour period depending on the zone in which the people were located.
Wednesday September 21, Houston Mayor Bill White urged residents to evacuate the city, “Don’t wait; the time for waiting is over,” reminding all of the recent disaster in New Orleans. Thursday, September 22 with monstrously heavy traffic bottling-up roads leading out of town, and with gas shortages leaving numerous vehicles stranded, Mayor White revised his earlier statement, “If you’re not in the evacuation zone, follow the news,” advising people to use common sense. Too late.
“Starting Wednesday night and throughout Thursday, the major evacuation routes, Interstate 45 north to Dallas, I-10 West to San Antonio, Route 290 to College Station and Austin, and 59 to Lufkin grew into hundred-mile-long parking lots. Drivers heeding the call to evacuate Galveston island and other low-lying areas took 4 and 5 hours to cover the 50 miles to Houston. And there the long crawl north began in earnest with cars overheating and breaking down, while others ran out of gas, worsening the crush.” So wrote Ralph Blumenthal in The New York Times.
An all-too common heat wave along with gridlock led to between 90 and 118 deaths–before the storm arrived. Hyperthermia and chronic health conditions led the causes for fatalities. 23 nursing home evacuees were killed after a bus on I-45 erupted into flames with the rear axle overheating and igniting therapeutic oxygen tanks on board. An estimated 2.5 – 3.7 million people took to the roads prior to Rita’s landfall, making it the largest evacuation in United States’ history. Where were we in all this madness? Ensconced in a concrete home built after the 1900 hurricane that ravaged Galveston, eating gourmet meals and drinking plenty of rum. We watched screens again, commiserated with fellow Houstonians trapped on the freeways, and then went to bed. Waking in the morning to a few downed branches and pools of water.
And then three years later, Ike. On September 11, 2008 great pink and burnt orange yolks began to cook and glow across Galveston. Late Wednesday the city issued a mandatory evacuation order for the low-lying west end of Galveston island. The mandatory evacuation order was extended to the entire island of Galveston, as well as low-lying areas around Houston.
On September 11, the national weather service advised residents that they faced “certain death” if they did not heed orders to evacuate. By 4 p.m. on September 12, the rising storm surge began topping the 17-ft Galveston seawall.
A quarter of the city’s residents ignored calls for evacuation. By 6 p.m. Friday night, estimates varied as to how many of the 58,000 residents remained, though clearly thousands remained. Ike resulted in 29 billion dollars of property damage on the Texas Gulf Coast.
None of this should surprise, after all, Houston exists on a flood plain. Houston has a total area of 637.4 square miles comprising over 599.59 square miles of land and 22.3 square miles covered by water. Most of Houston develops in concrete and glass on the Gulf Coastal Plain and prefers flooding to not flooding. A temperate grassland and forest in some parts, the rest a gumbo of marshes and swamps. Extensive greenfield development have combined to worsen flooding. Yes. Of course. Downtown stands about 50 feet above sea level, and the highest point in far northwest Houston is about 150 feet in elevation. Time for a policy review?
Buffalo Bayou is the central water spine of Harris County and Houston. The bayou flows through two flood control reservoirs—Addicks and Barker—and then through the Memorial Drive area of town and downtown, and then becomes the industry-lined Houston Ship Channel that connects into Galveston Bay and then the Gulf of Mexico. These reservoirs have “flood pools” where water will be ponded behind the dams at different pool levels. As will be discussed later, a large portion of the maximum flood pool is developed and has homes, schools, and businesses in this part of the reservoir. Almost 300,000 people live in the Harris County portion of the Addicks watershed and almost 90,000 live in the Harris County portion of the Barker watershed, with thousands more residing in Fort Bend County. Almost 450,000 persons live in the portion of the Buffalo Bayou watershed.
Living with Houston Flooding, Baker Institute for Public Policy, Rice University
The current 100-year rainfall amount used for floodplain mapping in Harris County averages about 13 inches in 24 hours; the 500- year amount is 19 inches in 24 hours. However, these amounts have been exceeded so many times in the past two decades that they have become a source of dark humor in the community. Our rainfall frequencies must be updated and the maps revised for them to be more reliable. For this reason, the areas shown as the 100- and 500-year floodplains are not as large as they would be if the rainfall frequencies were updated. Until this happens, beware of relying on these maps.
Living with Houston Flooding, Baker Institute for Public Policy, Rice University
“Dark humor.” Perfect. Certainly a necessary psychological outlook in a world that chooses to drown. So, to return to the afternoon of Friday, August 25 2017 . . . we waited on a hurricane in the exact place to wait for a hurricane and in the exact place where flooding should and does occur. Delightful. How did these intrepid Houstonians prepare for this natural occurrence in an unnatural city? This and more with Chapter Two of Remembering Harvey. Bon Appétit!
Empires, Cannibals, and Magic Fish Bones 