At noon on Thursday, September 11th (what is it about that date?), I had already evacuated to Bryan, and was settled in my lounger watching Galveston Reality TV when my cell phone chimed. It was the alarm company calling to let me know the front door of my office “had been breached.”
“Do you want us to go check it out?” they asked.
“Do you have a submarine?” I asked back.
A full 24+ hours before a drop of rain had fallen, and the Gulf had crossed FM 3005 just west of the end of the Seawall and climbed four feet to our front door. Is it any wonder so many people were caught unawares?
Here’s what’s left of our office. We called her the S.S. Minnow. Her remains were swept to the curb today. She has set sail, and she will be missed:
The Seawall has been pretty normal for nearly two weeks now. Most front row restaurants are open — Gaido’s, The Spot, Olympia Grill, Benno’s, Saltgrass, Landry’s, Fish Tales — almost all of them. The sign outside Miller’s says October 31st… and then we will be complete in that category.
The Strand looks a little like I imagine downtown Baghdad: dusty, dirty, blown out store fronts. Somebody asked me today what was open on the Strand. I had to break the news to her gently — every single ground floor business on the Strand — and on Mechanic, and Market, and Postoffice — got about 10 feet of water. Feet, not inches. It will all be brought back sparkling and new — but it is not open now. Not even close. I think Rudy & Paco’s is saying January. Sounds about right for most places.
But Dickens on the Strand should be great! Street vendors on the brick streets — just like it was in the 19th Century, right? Ya’ll come!
Copyright © 2009 Alice Melott Robertson
Essays by this author can also be read by joining http://www.facebook.com/alicethewriter.