Ying and Yang.

Far deeper involvement in, and commitment to neighborhood and the Galveston community at large.

One more evacuation and we're outta' here.

Carpe Diem

— By robert strevell on Sep. 2 at 6:24 PM

Why let a weather event change your life? It may disrupt your daily activities for a while but change your life?

— By charles zewe on Sep. 3 at 8:36 AM

Charles, you're kidding right?

Changed addresses, since the old house no longer exists. Changed possessions, since old ones no longer exist. Changed jobs, since old one no longer exist. Changed churches, since old one no longer exists. Lost daily contact with close neighbors and friends, because they NO LONGER LIVE HERE.

If your surroundings of home, work, church and friends have been destroyed, displaced or NO LONGER EXISTS. Your life has a tendency to change.

Where are you from? Ohio? or maybe Zone X.

— By Sheila Moran on Sep. 3 at 2:49 PM

Ike changed my life in some surprisingly positive ways. I live on the mainland, so my family only had some wind damage. However, my mother owns a business on the island that was a total loss. I won't mention the name of the business, because I don't want this to sound like a plug.

Mom was fortunate that her landlady had her business space operational by the end of October of last year. We all just dug in and got 'er done. As soon as the 'open' sign flashed on, our loyal customers came trickling back in. Lots had already stopped in to check on us while we were working on the shop after the storm. It never felt so good to see familiar faces as it was then. Mom's cell phone wouldn't stop ringing once Galveston Gail made a sign on an old piece of plywood with Mom's number on it. It was amazing to touch base. So much emotion and relief. Lots of sorrow, too. But it was a beautiful thing, in its own way. One by one, our customers, most of whom feel like family after all these years, came in the shop and shared their Ike stories. There were lots of tears and hugs and worries shared.

The months following that storm were probably the most amazing months of my life because every single day, I got to go to work with Mom and watch as some of the strongest people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing went about the daunting task of rebuilding their lives and the island they all love so much.

I have to say that Galvestonians are, without a doubt, the most gutsy, gritty, dig-your-heels-in people I have ever seen. To this day...almost a year later...many are still struggling to get their lives back to normal. But that's just the point. After a YEAR...and they just don't give up.

I like to think that some of that grit has rubbed off on me. I see the community in a much different light now and am so proud that Mom's little business got to play a part in making things a bit more normal feeling for so many people who really needed that feeling following Ike. I feel new inspiration and a ton of gratitude and love for the people of Galveston. To this day, I am overwhelmed whenever I think of their strength.

So...I guess I'd have to say that, on a personal level, Ike changed me for the better. As far as Mom's business...Well, it's up and running. Sure, business isn't what it was before Ike, but it's still great and going better than any of us ever expected. And it feels different now. Because we shared something with our customers that can't really be put into words. We just love 'em. And we know they love us, too. (That's the best part.)

Sign me,
Islander by day, Mainlander by night :)
-Elle

— By L. McB. on Sep. 3 at 5:52 PM

The storm brought the reality that what was going to be done to make a home on the island could not be done.

Losing my husband in July and being fiercely independent, my need for support, advanced age and poor health made me fight for assistance from FEMA. I actually believed that if you played by the rules and were a good citizen life would be good. No, the rules changed like the tides, and now I know that never again will I trust anyone but me to determine my circumstances.
My house will be sold on the island, and in 6 months when the lease on this apartment that the Housing Authority refuses to pay for ends, I will find a place that I can afford and get on with my old age. Never again will I pay thousands for insurance on property or believe that I too can get help from my government if I am not residing in a housing project, or a friend of those doling out the aid. Even old dogs can learn.

How has your life changed? a year? great idea Dolph.

— By rosemary foote on Sep. 3 at 7:53 PM

I'm trying my best not to give a hugely sarcastic knee-jerk response to this question. My inclination was to ask, "Are you serious?" I think people that don't know what it's like to drag moldy items to the curb, fight with mortgage and insurance for a year, look around to see leafless trees everywhere might need to ask that question...but I'm wondering how the question could possibly be thought provocing. What is more "thought provocing" to me, is the lack of creativity in choosing a "thought provocing" question to your staffers and the residents here.

— By Lorna Presswood Realtor on Sep. 4 at 6:14 AM

...and one other note...I'm guessing it's too early in the morning and I was too flustered by the question in reference, to spell "provoking" correctly.

— By Lorna Presswood Realtor on Sep. 4 at 6:21 AM

How many times can one make hurricane preparations, say goodbye to one's possessions, and sit in endless traffic in the September heat?

When Ike appeared to be headed our direction, I loaded up my cats and headed inland; upon my return, I notified my landlord and my employer that I was moving.

Life is too short to spend living with the looming spectre of storm season.

S.C. Mazzetti, San Antonio

— By Sean Walters on Sep. 4 at 7:00 AM

Ike did 20k in damages to our home in LC-Got it fixed thanks to Texas Windstorm Insurance,then got back to living our lives-can't think of how it "changed our lives"-I guess it made us prepare a little better when a hurricane enters the Gulf of Mexico. Unlike our neighbors to the south we didn't loose our home or jobs-so things keep on rolling along.

— By C. Duane Bush on Sep. 4 at 9:22 AM

Stuff doesn't matter as much to me as it did before last September. And I'll never be a packrat again.

I take more personal responsibility for the frame of mind I'm in from day to day, I may not be able to control the weather, other people's attitudes, or the whims of fate, but I do have the ability to decide how I think and feel about my life and my future (not that I won't need to shed a few tears first, but I know that's the outlook I'll have in the end).

I understand that helping other people is one of the best ways to maintain a sense of purpose and dignity in the face of tragedy. You want to feel powerful and in control of your own life then get off your butt and lend a hand.

A sense of true security and wealth are possible only to the extent that hope, a sense of gratitiude, love, and connection occupy the space between your ears.

— By Pinkie Oleander on Sep. 4 at 10:46 AM

I lost everything, including my husband and job at Edgewater, and left. There is absolutely nothing to return to.

— By Allison Newsom on Sep. 5 at 8:49 AM