It’s been a tough week in Texas and Oklahoma. Thunderstorms brought flash floods and tornados to a vast area from the Mexico border northward into Kansas. Many people lost their lives and their homes, their worlds turned upside down in a way I can barely imagine.
Here, in Central Texas, we remain cautious. Just one week ago, this past Memorial Day weekend, a storm raged through our area dumping as much as eleven inches of rain in one night. At the time of this post, the flash flood has claimed nine lives in Hays County alone, with at least ten people still missing.
The small town of Wimberley, TX, will never be the same. Its 300+ year-old cypress trees felled, basically ripped out of the banks as the Blanco River rose 41 feet in just a few hours. One home was lifted off its foundation, pieces of it found scattered downstream for miles; an entire vacation party, family and friends, gone, all except one survivor. Many others have no place to live, their homes completely in ruin, their lives disrupted in a way that makes recovery difficult and long.
Wimberley is our sweetheart. It’s one of those places that feels like a sanctuary, where your blood pressure drops as soon as you round the bend and see the town square dappled in sunlight. You want your children to know Wimberley, to swim in Jacob’s Well and Blue Hole. You teach them to swing from the high limbs of the cypress tress and land in the deep, cool waters of the Blanco River. You eat Tex-Mex and shop for vintage cowboy boots, rocks and gems. You discover the best pecan pies this side of Georgia.
Our property lies twenty or thirty miles north of this area and we are safe, suffering only minor damage–tree limbs down, drainage issues due to construction, and a small leak where water wicks under the eaves when winds become unpredictable and wild.
Yesterday, Marq and I sorted through our excess and created a pile of gently used clothes and housewares. Tomorrow we’ll drive to the donation center in hopes of helping out in some small way. We’ll make a monetary donation and hope you will, too. I believe any contribution helps.
As days turn into weeks, and weeks into months, we vow to not forget the sweetheart of the Hill Country and the residents of Hays County. As they grieve, we all grieve.
Sources: Photo by Alison Moore, “Wimberley Flood – 2015”
KVUE News–http://www.kvue.com/story/news/local/hays-county/2015/05/24/300-homes-destroyed-1000-damaged-in-hays-county/27886949/
Beautifully expressed, Lynda. Here in the suburb of Lost Creek, we have tied yellow ribbons around the neighborhood as a tribute to the Lost Creek family whose relatives and friends were victims of the Wimberley disaster. Their vacation home was swept down the river where it crashed into a bridge, splitting apart. Only the young father and the family dog, a yellow Lab, survived. The dog was found clinging to a tree. It’s been a tragic time, leaving us with a feeling of being out of control. It’s another reminder for all of us to savor each moment, and live consciously.
Oh, Elizabeth. I didn’t make the connection between your neighborhood and the victims of the flood. Such a tragedy. Life does feel out of control at times, and it is, in a sense completely out of our control. Our ability to stay connected, to remain hopeful and true to our faith — to live consciously, as you say — this will keep us grounded. Please know your friends and their families are in my prayers.
I wouldn’t have believed the hurricane force rains unless I had been there with you… What a week we had. Diverting water by filling bags with wet sand and hiding in the closet during tornado warnings with you. The bright side is that Lake Travis is up 20 feet, but what a price paid with lives and homes lost. Thank you for your beautiful words about Wimberly…
We are grateful for your positive spirit and hard work! That weekend was one that will go down in history. The erosion project continues!
Thank you for expressing so well what is in all our hearts.
Some of my earliest memories are from Wimberley. My uncle bought property on the Blanco river, in Flite Acres, and my dad helped build the original cabin in 1949. It’s been a part of our extended family for all these years, surviving every storm and flood. But, not this one. It’s crazy how bad this was. I talked to my cousin yesterday and she said the entire landscape has been transformed. The house will have to be demolished.
Now our family is presented with a new opportunity; to come together to help rebuild…
Linda
You are fortunate to view this loss as an opportunity to grow, to work together as a family and create a stronger bond. Your positive spirit will be far-reaching in your family’s efforts to rebuild and recover. Please let them know our thoughts and prayers are with them.
What a roller coaster of emotions you are experiencing–deep sadness over the tragedy in Winberley and the relief to see Lake Travis filling again. We can only watch from afar and, along with our monetary donations, offer prayers and hopes that lives and spirits will be healed and that the scenic water will be calming for all. Thank you for this lovely meditation!
This morning in yoga I cried, releasing some of these bound up emotions. I realize that this will pass, as all things do. The words “giveth” and “taketh” have profound meaning right now. As many families grieve, others rejoice because the waters brought relief from the drought. I drove through Wimberley yesterday and the cleanup efforts have begun and will take months to complete. I will never forget the images. Thanks for your continued support in my journey.