With each task completed, another appears

October 9, 2008


As the crews and their trucks continue to make dents in the piles of decaying rubble, the town is still coming to grips with what it will take to get things going again.

School started yesterday -- sort of. Only some of the school buildings were spared; none of the school buses made it. School officials with expediency rather than empathy on their minds directed children to operational school buildings according to the alphabet instead of region. So if your last name begins with B but your best buddy two doors down has a name that begins with Y, you won't be in the same school any longer. I suppose this could be viewed as a way to compel making new friends, but in the midst of so many other traumatic disruptions, was this really such a good idea? About 50% of the school aged children of Galveston are not here. Whether most will return or not remains to be seen.

Facing a multimillion dollar payroll and no hospital, The University of Texas Medical Branch is in dire straits. President David Callender, MD held a town meeting yesterday to a standing-room-only crowd, where 'bated breath held silence as all awaited confirmation or refutation of the rumor. The island's largest employer (12,000+) was rumored to be preparing to lay off 4,000 workers. Just what someone who's just lost his home needs to hear - "Hey, we no longer have any hospital revenue, so we can no longer hold your job."

The bad news did not come, but like the Obama/McCain debate later in the evening, nothing new of much substance emerged either. What was clear was that things will not be the like they were for a very long time. One of the oldest medical schools west of the Mississippi does not have a hospital- for now. It was only a few months ago that I had lunch with Dr. Callender and heard about the new multi-million dollar surgical tower that was coming off the drawing board. Now he speaks of a scaled-down facility of maybe 200 beds with more empahsis on mainland ambulatory care, research (always a big part of UTMB) and a nebulous vision of something new and different. Whether the UT Board of Rengents and the Texas Legislature will step up to the plate or not remains to be seen. We are told again that there is no plan to move UTMB to Austin, but how that translates to additional financial support is as fuzzy as the mold growing in every island nook and cranny. Bottom line - dispelled rumors notwithstanding, many Galvestonians are about to lose their jobs. I do not envy Dr. Callender's job.

Three hard-working men, whose immigration status I do not question, have been pulling all the water-logged ductwork from under our house. They quit last night at 6 pm, more filthy than any persons I've seen, even on this messy island. They've been at it for two days and tell me (in Spanish) they've got one more day to go. Before any new ducts and air-conditioning can go it, the wiring must also come out. That's next. What electricity we have in the main house now will temporarily disappear with the rewiring job.

The black, mucky swamp that had once been our pool was pumped dry this week. Whatever that organic matter was covering the plaster was so thick the surface had to be taken back down to the gunnite, then replastered. In another day or two it's going to look like a pool again. Of course, to keep it looking that way, all the pumping/filtration system will be replaced as it was setting in saltwater long enough to be destroyed. A word of insight: neither flood nor homeowners insurance covers flood damage to swimming pools.

So shall we feel sorry for ourselves? My goodness, I've had water in my four-car garage. My Mercedes SL (insured of course) was destroyed. My swimming pool is ugly. And we don't have air-conditioning. Oh woe are we!

Four or five blocks away is a shelter of tents on the playground of what was an elementary school. Half the island is still without electric or gas, although the water is now potable. Thousands of my fellow Galvestonians who were near homeless now appear to be soon jobless. Kids are sitting in strange classrooms with strangers in the adjacent desks. Our island continues to grieve. There is no place for self-pity at our house - way too much to do.