My Story: Central Texas Floods

 

It’s difficult to write about the process of surviving a natural disaster when I am still very much in the midst of the aftermath. It is a physically exhausting process to tear out damaged material and belongings from your home, and even more emotionally exhausting to think about where you’re going to stay and how you’re going to afford to recover from this nightmare.

I bought my first home 6 months ago, and knew that the very back portion of the 1.5 acre property contained a “dry creek.” The former homeowners installed a 700 square foot deck around an above ground pool attached to the house about 9 months prior to the sale. There was also new carpet, tile, and paint throughout the home. I purchased flood insurance which was required by my lender, but I understood that the house itself was not in the flood plane. I purchased the exact same coverage as the two previous homeowners had, not fully realizing that there was no coverage for the contents of the house in the event of a flood.

In mid-October, the creek rose quickly after heavy rains and the back part of the property was indeed covered with water. We were a bit surprised, but not shocked. On October 30, 2013, my fiancée and I were awakened by thunder and lightning around midnight. We looked outside and realized it was raining heavily again. We commented that “it couldn’t get any higher than it did a couple weeks ago.” I went back to sleep. My fiancée did not, and was keeping an eye on the weather. At 2:30 AM, he woke me up and asked me to pack clothes for the two of us and our 2-year-old son. He told me that the water was already up over the deck and the pool and he didn’t think it was safe for us to stay in the home. As I packed, he move two of our vehicles off the property to higher ground. By the time he returned, the water had risen significantly. We grabbed the baby and the dogs, and got out of the house as quickly as we could, bringing  only what we could carry.

Once in my vehicle, I called 911 to ask for help. I had no idea what to do or where to go. The 911 operator informed me that emergency responders could not get to us due to low water crossings, and that unless there was a dire need for a medical evacuation by helicopter, we were on our own. My panic rose, expecting assistance and reassurance where there was none. We went to a neighbor’s home on higher ground, who took us in with no questions asked in the middle of the night. My fiancée went to our next door neighbor’s home to alert them to the danger; otherwise, they would have slept through it. They looked in their backyard for their dog, only to find that she and her outdoor kennel were gone, washed away by the flood. Later, with the assistance of neighbors, we were able to get our two horses out with considerable difficulty due to their fear and the strong current. Also, that dog made it and found her way back home. One of my cats passed away during the ordeal.

The first visit back to the house after the flood was devastating.  About 3.5 feet of water had gotten into the house. Everything was covered with sludge. Our furniture was ruined and we didn’t know if much of anything could be salvaged. Our friend’s horse trailer, which was parked in our driveway was literally swept away with our pool and deck, tangled in a neighbor’s trees. My son’s toys were destroyed and scattered about, muddy and broken. I will never forget those images of lost innocence, family life and normalcy shattered.

In the days following  the flood, we stayed nights at hotels, and with various friends and family. Living day-to-day out of our car wreaked havoc on us. Everyone was kind and accommodating, but we were used to having a space of our own, and our 2-year-old showed signs of stress. He was unusually clingy and temperamental. Neither my fiancée or I went to work at our jobs; instead we rallied our neighbors, friends and families to try to salvage what we could, secure a safe place for our animals, and prevent further water damage to the home. Our son stayed during the day with various trusted caregivers, but wasn’t getting the nap and bedtime he was used to in any consistent way.

Through the first week, we were moved by the assistance of others, many of whom we did not know prior to the flood. Our neighborhood became a community, and the support was heartening. Co-workers and friend collected shoes, clothes, toys, and gift cards to help us in the aftermath of the flood. Several volunteer groups arrived, most with a religious affiliation. I always try to be respectful of the beliefs and customs of others, and I know organized religion has been the source of much good in terms of disaster relief around the world. But I kept getting asked from responders where I went to church and what faith our family was. My fiancée is a non-practicing non-denominational Christian, and I don’t claim any religious identity. Many times I felt ashamed to admit that, because here are these nice people helping me and I felt pulled to say something, anything to appease them. The power differential I felt, and still feel, is incredible. Never was assistance presented to me as conditional on identification as Christian, but when helpers wanted to pray with me and give me crosses and bibles, I was uncomfortable yet felt I couldn’t refuse.

Although we were determined to prevent further damage, we wanted professional help. We called numerous repair and restoration companies in those initial days after the flood, and all of them were backlogged and couldn’t send a crew to help us with our class 3 “black flood” (meaning the septic system backed up in addition). They were happy to send out a “project manager” to try to sell us a re-build though. However, we needed to understand that the timeframe for a rebuild in the Austin area is approximately 7 months. We can’t get a reputable contractor out there, and neither can our neighbors.

I called the insurance company midday on 10/31, and they informed me there was an adjuster in my area (which apparently is near Beaumont, according to some people in Pennsylvania). The adjuster arrived Monday, 5 days after the flood. She was kind, helpful and thorough, and told us she would initiate the process to send an advance check and then would send us her findings on our claim. Then, we would have a chance to respond back and try to negotiate a settlement.  She clarified that contents were not covered, nor were outbuildings. Also not covered are the beautiful deck and pool, now destroyed. Apparently the policies are underwritten by FEMA, and they only allow for a 16x16’ deck to be covered. No one can understand how those things are not covered, but I continually am told that they are not. Our tile may or may not be covered, as it is on concrete slab and should not have been affected. Nonetheless, there was water underneath, so we pulled the tile up. About 10 days after the flood, we received an advance check for $5000. That wouldn’t have even covered the tear-out, which was estimated by professionals as an $8000. I guess it’s a good thing we did all of that ourselves. I recently found out that the federal government requires claims be processed in 60 days, with no provisions for temporary housing during this time. Our insurance company assures us they will help us out by processing ours in just 30 days.

 

My fiancée, who does not have vision insurance, lost his glasses and contacts in the flood, and the repair work caused him eye irritation. Everyone told us to go to the Red Cross, where it took almost 2 hours just to register. Then we waited in medical where he was finally seen. They called his optometrist to confirm his prescription (the staff were out to lunch, so no one answered). They told him they could give him a voucher he could use to get new glasses. Every single place we called within 50 miles that would accept the voucher told us that glasses would take 7-10 days. At this point, he’d had to take one contact out to relief the irritation. We ended up paying out-of-pocket at a one-hour place so he could continue to work on the house and be able to drive. That was because of our privilege, as people with money, that we could even do that. Being at the Red Cross is depressing, because you quickly see so many people who had very little to begin with and have lost it all. People are kind, but the time of the recipients is not valued; everyone is told to hurry up and wait.  And those needing help are expected to accept that, because for most, there is no other choice.

I realized right away that there is a deficiency in ADA compliant temporary housing options. Austin is a growing, burgeoning city,  and available housing is tough to find even without a disability. I found a wheelchair accessible apartment being sub-leased online and agreed to lease it from a woman who had moved out. I turned out to have not fully understood the situation and agreement (beyond the scope of this writing) but that is where we can stay for another 2 weeks, or until a month after the flood. I know of no other options that are accessible and we can afford. I have repeatedly explained that staying with friends is not feasible because average homes are not wheelchair accessible. I don’t have the strength after working all day to crawl around on someone else’s floor and to catapult myself up on their toilet, and not be able to reach the sink to wash my hand. And I won’t wake up my fiancée after he’s worked 12 hours at the house to help me pee at 3 AM. I just won’t.

My fiancée suggested I call the mortgage company to see if they would let us defer payment for the month while we get back on our feet. They informed me that they’d be happy  to waive the late fee and my credit would be unaffected, so long as there was a FEMA disaster declaration in place. Let’s talk about FEMA disaster declaration. Even though the local municipalities are working toward obtaining disaster status, the state and federal governments have yet to do so, now two weeks after the flood. According to our county commissioner’s office, it will be several more weeks before we can expect FEMA disaster declaration. Without it, flood survivors are not eligible for assistance with things like temporary housing, or grants or loans to cover expenses that insurance doesn’t cover. So here we are left, primarily depending on our own savings and the kindness of others to survive. We still don’t know what to expect from the insurance company or FEMA, and we’re not sure if we’ll be able to get back into the house by the time our temporary housing arrangement ends.

If you listen to the radio or watch television in Austin, you know that the city has decided to buy up many of the damaged properties among Onion Creek. You may also know that many taxpayers are furious about this, and blame the homeowners for building or buying on that land. Most assume that we are on Onion Creek; we aren’t. We are on Little Bear Creek. Those homes being bought have had a host of other issues and the city has wanted to obtain them for years; only with the flooding are residents willing to leave. We were affected by the same storm, just a different creek. We don’t live in the city limits of Austin, so their disaster declaration doesn’t pertain to us. If you think that I’m an idiot for buying a property where the very edge contains a dry creek, so be it. If you think something like this, a  natural disaster, could never happen to you, you’re wrong.

I feel like I am carrying the weight of the floodwaters on my shoulders. Or maybe a sopping wet, muddy carpet that may or may not contain fecal matter. I know I am lucky, and I am grateful for what was spared, including our lives. I am appreciative of all the help and support, more than people will ever know. But there has to be a better way, a way to provide assistance to citizens during a time when any of us could have been affected, in a way that makes sense. A way that retains sanity and dignity. Of all I have lost, it is those things I miss most.

Erin E. Andrews
Manchaca, TX