Hurricane Alicia and the Aftermath

by Robert Darnell, 8/18/83

It rained and it rained and it rained. Wind blew, it thundered, it lightninged, and it rained and the wind blew.

That was Hurricane Alicia, named after our grand daughter, which came in Wednesday night.

We had been watching and listening to reports of the storm for two days as it lay off the coast of Galveston and tried to make up its mind which way to go.

We have watched them so many times here in Houston and most of them go on off to South Texas or Mexico or go back East to Louisiana.

But this one decided to pop right on in over Galveston and on in to Houston Proper. It was blowing pretty steadily and raining lightly on Wednesday night about bed time. No one was home except Jerre and Robert. Becky had gone to Aggie Fish Camp up at Palestine, for Aggie freshmen.

Robert went for a walk before bed time and it was nice and fresh. Very comfortable. Jerre stayed up till 1 o'clock washing clothes in case the water went off during the hurricane.

During the night it really got to popping. You could hear the limbs snapping and falling. We had a steady rain of pine cones on our roof. Rufus barked at the thunder.

The electricity went off about four and actually we got very little sleep all night.

We got up about six and checked things out. We had a good flashlight and lit some candles. The water pressure was low so we took a shower in case the water went off completely and so we would be clean during the storm.

The wind and rain were really coming on. The trees were bending from one side to the other and looked like they would all snap. The yards and streets were waist deep in tree limbs and branches, and it just kept raining and blowing.

Jerre got out some food warmers with candles and cooking alcohol. She cooked us up a good breakfast of eggs, sausage, rolls, jelly and coffee. We ate out on the patio and watched things blow and fall.

About eight thirty the wind quit blowing and everything got pretty still. We were right in the eye of the hurricane. Robert went outside and took some pictures of the litter.

Then in about an hour the wind started blowing again from the Southwest. The eye had passed on and was headed out toward Katy.

Wade called from Possum Kingdom and said it was bright sunshine, hot and dry and one hundred degrees.

Hope they get some of this rain.

We spent most of the day after it quit raining cleaning up fallen trees and limbs. Many big trees fell in the neighborhood. One huge oak tree two houses down fell on the electric line. It'll probably be several days before we get the lights back on.

It's night now and raining again. We're cooking some meat out on the gas cooker on the patio.

All we got is candles. No TV, no air conditioning, woe is us -- alas -- alas ...

Oh well, tomorrow we'll get it started again.

***

The Aftermath, by Robert Darnell

"Oh well, tomorrow we'll get it started again."

When I wrote that, little did I know what it's like to clean up after a hurricane.

The electricity was off two days and the weather got sticky hot. It was just too hot to move and no place to go to get cool.

Jerre and Bob both went to work Friday morning. Everything was on at Jerre's office and she worked all day. Nothing was on at Bob's office, so it was mostly shut down.

He went down to the health club to try to get started and it was all shut down until Monday. Bob took an iron out to the repair shop to get it fixed for Becky to use at College Station. On the way he stopped at twelve stores looking for ice to go in the cooler where we have all our food.

He finally found two bags at a small remote corner grocery.

Most of the neighbors were out raking, cutting, and stacking lumber. The whole neighborhood looked and sounded like a lumber camp. Bob worked for a while and got so hot he thought he would bust.

When Jerre got home they decided to go down to Clear Lake to check on the boat and to ride in the car to stay cool.

The Clear Lake, Kemah area was a battleground of trash and rubble. The water had been up in the whole area about eight feet.

The boat made it out okay and was still tethered in its stall with no damage.

That night they went to bed and thought it would cool off, but it just got hotter and stickier. They spent a miserable night and got up exhausted.

All day Saturday they tried to get things going. they washed some clothes at the washeteria to keep cool. They ate at a restaurant to keep cool, they went shopping to keep cool.

Finally, at five o'clock the electricity came back on and they got the air conditioner and refrigerator to running.

They were feeling quite good about things. The house started cooling down. They washed dishes, and ate supper. Becky came home. She had a great time and was in good spirits from the Fish Camp. She was excited about the hurricane damage.

Then at ten o'clock -- POW -- the lights out again; a transformer had blown. Remembering how hot it was the night before they decided not to stay home and found a room over at the Westchase Hilton. Checked in there about mid-night and got a good night's sleep.

Sunday morning about eleven o'clock the electricity came back on and the house started cooling down again.

Coffee in Chicago

by Robert Darnell [date unknown]

Jerre and Robert are coffee heads from way back. That is they enjoy a good cup of coffee quite frequently and especially early in the morning when they first wake up.

Recently they were in Chicago visiting the three -- Pat , Di, and Sam.

The first morning there, everyone was sleeping late except Rob who always gets up early. He stumbled into the kitchen to make some coffee, trying to be real quiet like a mouse. He found a coffee pot but no cord. He found a can of coffee unopened but no opener. After searching the kitchen silently for a cord and opener with no luck, he finally gave up and went for a walk.

A little later Jerre got up, and then also Pat.

She asked about coffee and he showed her how they make it.

First he knew where the can opener was to open the coffee can, but an opened can of coffee was on top on the refrigerator in a basket where one would naturally expect the coffee to be kept. Then he put exactly two cups of water in a kettle on the stove to boil.

Then he got a large filter from he cabinet and stuck it into a funnel. He poured two spoons of coffee into the filter.

The funnel was then placed into a coffee thermos jug. When the water in the kettle boiled it was poured over the coffee in the filter and ran into the thermos. It was not strong enough the first time through, so was poured through the filter again.

This second time through the filter was wet and soft so it disintegrated into the coffee. The coffee was then poured through a wire strainer to filter the paper out and finally poured into two cups.

Rob came in from the yard and he and Jerre had a cup of coffee.

The procedure was repeated for Pat and Di to have a cup and that's how they make coffee in Chicago.

In the first letter Rob and Jerre got after they got home it said: "Oh, by the way, we got a coffee pot."

end

July 4TH, 1983 :: Ravinia Park ~ Northshore Lake Michigan ~ The North Side of Chicago
by Robert Darnell

Sure a hell of a lot cooler than Camp Warnecke. But no rapids. Everybody up here is out of state. We're the only Texans in the crowd.

We are spread out on blankets, pillows, chairs, and sheep skins. Drinking Augsburger beer instead of Long Necks. Even Samantha's drinking an Augsburger. Robert had one and he's already passed out.

Chicago had a nice rain last night so it's pretty cool today. Most people are spreading out; some only blankets, like us, and some very elaborately set up tables with candelabras. Some are in blue jeans and some in formals.

Grant Johansson is starting to play the piano. No Frankie Carle, but adequate.

Old people are sitting in chairs. Younger people are stretched out in the sun. Many people are walking to and fro - here and yon - children are squiggling. Pat, Jerre, Diana, and Samantha went for a walk, exploring the park. Robert is sprawled out drunk, calling for more wine.

This same group yesterday went to the Water Tower Place, just like the Galleria, only it is built straight up, instead of spread out, and has ten times as many shops and people.

Yesterday they also covered the lake front and the Gold Coast. There aren't that many people in the world.

These big spenders from Texas bought a cigar and a T-shirt at Water Tower Place. That ought to make their tourist season for the year.

We just listened to Blind John Davis with blues, boogie, and jazz on the piano. He really made it talk.

Then Bob Gibson, folksinger, with Anne Hills; he opened with "Abilene, My Abilene" which really made a hit with me.

The MC of this show is Studs Terkel, host of the nationally syndicated Studs Terkel Show. We don't get it down in Houston.

Chicago is 500 feet higher than Houston so when we start home we're going to throw it in neutral and coast.

Next on our program is Art Hodes, pianist, with trio. They are lively and Jerre started jigging and crowd started wiggling. He is smoothe and soft. The crowd is syncopated in it's foot tapping.

We've been here four hours. One guy is sitting over there reading a book. He hasn't moved all day, except to turn the pages.

One old lady in a group sits over there and eats all the time. She's not fat ~ she's skinny. Burns up a lot of the fat carrying around all the food she eats. Every once in a while someone in her group pats her on the back and asks her if she wants something else to eat. She does.

One guy is wearing a straw hat. Two boys are playing football in the crowd, precariously.

Art Hodes and his trio were really good. They're now over and everyone is breaking camp.

This group is packing up. Robert is still passed out over there and missed the whole show. They're going to take everything to the car and then come back and roll him out there.

Boom, Boom, Crash, Pow! A happy fourth of July was had by all!

***

The next day after the Fourth, Bob and Jerre were pulling out of Chicago. One of the greatest thoughts they heard while there was this Chicago guy saying "...What people ought to do on the Fourth of July is not celebrate separation by shooting fireworks... But they should celebrate togetherness all over the world by exchanging lost socks. Can't you just hear the China man saying ~~'Ah So, Joe, I got yellow one, you got my blue one?'..."

We really had a great exit from Chi; Patrick, Diana, Bob and Jerre, stopped by for breakfast at Walker Brothers' old Pancake House and then Pat and Di took Bob and Jerre to the freeway, and we left. We had taken Samantha to the Montessori School where she was staying until noon.

The night before we left, we all went by to meet Diana's father, Frank, and stepmother, Dottie. We had a nice visit with them, and got to know them quite well in just a brief time.

end

Robert's Rush

Travelogue typed here in its original form, date unknown ...


We rolled in here this morning about 5 AM . Not sure what day it is. We banged on the door and got Hunter awake to let us in. We all ... Jerre, Robert, Becky, and, Lisa piled down and went to sleep immediately.

We had been driving all night up from Atlanta through the Cumberland Mountains at Chattanooga and Nashville. It rained all the way and the driving was horrible. Robert kept trying to stay awake and stay on the road. Jerre kept trying to stay awake and keep Robert awake by throwing ice water on his face, head, neck, and back.

Some way they stayed awake and on the road. Becky and Lisa slept on. Jerre kept saying "If you run off the road and kill us, I'll kill you."

Bob would say "Don't do that." And she would throw some more ice water on him.

She would say "Stop awhile and rest." And Bob would say "Naw we ain't gettin' nowhere if we stop."

They did stop at the Nashville and ate some waffles, except Jerre ate some chili. Soon after she asked Rob if those Maalox No 1's, that he is always eating, are any good for belly burn? She ate some and they were.

When they woke Hunter up she was mad as an old wet hen because they were so late. She expected them in earlier, and cooked a whole lot of food, but they didn't show. Anyway, you know how Hunter is when she gets mad: A real Tiger.

They all slept about three hours, then woke up to the smell of bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee. We all got up and ate that good stuff.

We were going to lay around all day and goof off but Hunter had a long list of things for us to do. So, instead of laying around we had to "lay to."

Some of the things Ol' Mom had cooked were chicken, rice, black-eyed peas, tomatoes, pound cake, apple pie, ice cream, coffee, milk, etc. We dang sure didn't go hungry.

While we were eating supper a neighbor told us we could have some fresh tomatoes out of her garden. Ol' Mom gave Robert a large grocery sack which he filled with good ripe fresh tomatoes.

Becky and Lisa laid out in the hot sun to keep a peak on their St Tropaz tans, a'la St Thomas and St John. They wanted the peak to be in bloom when they get back to Houston.

Some people named Bower came by looking for a body. Old Mr. Peavy had died and they felt sure he was at the funeral home down the street. He wasn't there and they wanted Hunter to find him for them. She did.

Jerre, Rob, and Hunter went to Wal-Mart and the grocery store. They got some snacking stuff for the trip to Houston, tomorrow. Hope to get started about six.

End of entry

Robert's Childhood Memories: Improvisations

Dad's childhood reminiscence typed here in its original form, date unknown ...

When I was coming up about 8 to 10, out in West Texas, in Childress, which was I'm sure the center of the dust bowl in the 20's and 30's, there was very little entertainment provided for small kids, so we improvised.

We used to get old tires from service stations and roll them around town. Up and down driveways and down the street chasing the tire and keeping rolling.

One of the good tricks of this was for a small kid to crawl up inside the tire and be rolled. It was probably as much of a thrill as a midway ride, and it was free.

My step-father was a cement man and he had a hand-cranked cement mixer sitting by the house he used when mixing and paving cement. It was always sitting there because  he never did have any work. One of us would crawl inside and someone else would turn the crank. It was a good ride but only the smallest kids could get inside and only the bravest would do it.

Another thing, we used to get a small hoop about 8" or 10" diameter and two sticks, one about three feet and one about one foot. We would nail the short one across the end of the long one and roll the hoops all over town. Tight now I can't understand why we did that. It was so strenuous but we enjoyed  it and did it for hours at a time. I'm sure that it was things like that that make me at my age walk for long periods of time without any fatigue.

Another of our improvised pastimes was jumping off of houses. We started out climbing up a tree or drainpipe to the eave of the house then dropping off. Next we would stand up and yip. Then we would take a few running steps and jump. Each new move that we did eliminated a few more kids. Then we moved to the top of the house and ran down and jumped. Very few would do this. Finally the only thing left was to start at the peak of one end and run caddy-corner down the opposite end and jump.

The way I remember it was that I was only one of two that would do this. Then the big boys who wouldn't do it all would come around and say: "Hey, you know what he'll do? Show 'em." And I would do it anytime I had an audience.

Then there was the smoking. My mother ran a grocery store. The big boys would urge me to lift a package of cigarettes from my mother's store. Which I would do. We would then go down to the town lake and sit under the cliffs and smoke. We dug a hole in the cliff and lined it with rocks to keep us a cache of cigarettes down there.

The big discussion was that if you smoked cigarettes you wouldn't grow. That bothered me so even though I furnished most of the cigarettes, I didn't smoke them.

One of the big deals about that time was picking cotton in the fall. That was the hardest, most dastardly, work ever imposed on man, but we had to do it at eight years old.

We would get up early on Saturday morning, way before sun up, and go out in the country to the cotton patches. You had a small sack made out of heavy cloth with a big strap to go over your shoulder. Then you drug the sack between the rows of cotton and picked on both sides.

First off, stooping over to pick, your back would start hurting. Then you would get down and walk on your knees and they would start hurting. Your shoulder would start hurting from the strap and you would shift to the other shoulder.

Your hands would get sore from picking at the cotton bolls. You would have a small pair of cloth gloves, but they would get holes in the fingers and then you would try to shift your fingers around in the gloves to keep them away from the holes.

I remember one day I chewed a lot of sugar cane and got diarrhea. I ran back and forth to the cane patch all day to go to the bathroom, then back to dragging that cotton sack. I was very young and that was really hard. Looking back on something like that, you can see that it really does put hair on your chest.

Lots of times when I picked cotton all day and they tallied up that night, I had made a dime. And Mr Priest, my step-father, got all the money to buy groceries.

end

The Great Deer Hunt

by Robert D Darnell
Dec 7, 1982

Dave and Bob had been talking about going deer hunting up in the out-back around Possum Kingdom Lake all winter and finally the opportunity came.

They took off early in the morning with all their gear and guns. Dave had a belly ache so he went by the veterinarian's and go t some horse liniment from Jan to take. He always takes horse liniment for belly aches.

They swung north up through the out-back through Brenham, Caldwell, Cameron, Temple, and Gatesville. Stopped for some hot bar-b-que at Temple. Stopped at Pancake for some coffee; wondered why any place would be named Pancake. It was shut down.

We headed North all day long through the rugged out-back, through Hico, Stephenville, Graford. Late in the afternoon as the sun's rays were slanting, we came into the Palo Pinto Mountains. We stopped for coffee at an old stage coach inn. Saw Chill Wills.

Game was plentiful all through the out-back and we were chomping at the bit to go hunting in the morning.

Got on into the camp about 4:00, and checked in at the lodge. George Monie wanted to talk about the water district so we visited with him for a while.

We walked out to the big canyon and picked out spots to hunt in the morning, then ate some catfish and early to bed.

At 5:00 the next morning we woke up and put on all out warm clothes. It was just moderately cold, somewhat comfortable. The main thing was it was so dark. But Dave had a flashlight, so we were able to find our way to the canyon.

Each of us settled into a nest of rocks and waited for daylight. At first it was warm enough from having walked but as we sat still it got colder.

Bob stayed until 9:00 and didn't see a deer. Saw a lot of birds, including a long blue heron and heard a covey of quail waking up and doing their morning toilet. They make a lot of popping noises. Sounds like small pump going on and off.

Bob went back to the sales office and waited a while. Dave stayed out till noon. He saw a bunch of does, and a one point buck, but he didn't shoot anything.

After noon they both went back and Bob sat in a deer stand while Dave tried to walk some deer up. He raised some but neither got a shot. They then drove down some roads but no deer were showing, so called it quits.

Everything we touched today either stung, stuck, scratched, sprained, strained, broke, or other wise hurt. Wow, what fun this hunting!

Thursday morning dawned cold gray and threatening. We broke camp and made preparations to head back South of this rough out-back. It's good to get out in the wilderness and rough it every once in a while, but there's nothing like Home Sweet Home.

So, after our awesomely, awfully, anguishingly, agonizingly, hair-raisingly, aimlessy, awkwardly, antagonizingly, astonishingly, anxious experience we arrived home in Houston.


end

Santa Claus Letter

One Christmas Eve Long Ago When Sylvia turned 24

Dear Santa:
These are critical years for those who believe design can improve the human condition. The idea is as old as Utopian Thought. What is "new?" Melding of observable behavior patterns and understanding of client aspirations and needs, and use of emerging technology to affect the built environment might be accomplished by design.

Whether this is the basis for a new aesthetic is not yet clear. But no conscientious planner or designer can ignore a growing body of knowledge waiting application.
Pat

***

Dear Santa Claus,
I've been urging mother to let me open a present.

Well, Smokey's learning to talk real good, You don't have to worry about him biting you, he might bark, but he won't bite.

How do you like our Christmas tree? I think it is the beautifulest tree we've had. I hope you fill my stocking. Do you like my little guy on the mantle? Bev made it. You know the lady I've known so long?

Look at all the presents under the tree. I've got 11 or 12. We've got candles all over the house this year. You know Christmas Eve is Sylvia's birthday. She'll be 24!

Be sure and stop by David's house, They are not going to be able to be with us on Christmas. Jan had to work everyday except Christmas! That's terrible isn't it?

Well, Good Bye!!
Becky

***

Ho Ho Ho

This country air really makes a feller sleepy. From Nottingham to Shannon Valley Drive to the Ranch... you Darnell kids sure change around a lot for Christmas.

Becky, you are the only little one left so my job is getting easier every year at your house. I hear you are beginning to ask silly questions like "Is there really a Santa Claus?" Believe you me if I ain't real this sure is a tired old nothing  and I sure don't feel like nothing.

Anyway, real or not, here it is, and here is a pretty neat bicycle for you, Becky. I hope it works better than the one last year. Oh, well, we all make mistakes.

I see old Pat and Ron and Sylvia over there asleep. They are so big now that they don't need my toys; just some work clothes and vitamin pills to keep 'em going.

There's old Jerre and Robert, too. They are so dam old they don't need nothing but two rocking chairs and some Geritol.

I met Smokey down in the barn in the hay and he can almost talk. In fact he can talk to a Jolly Old Elf like me. He said he likes to chase around here after birds and armadillos. He says he really knows how to hunt quail, track 'em down, and point at 'em and all that stuff, but no one ever taught him so he just plays dumb and goes ahead and chases armadillos because it is easier and less regimented.

Well HO HO HO and I'm going to grab a quick piece of cake and a short nap in the hay and then I'll be on my way.

Tell David , Jan and David I missed them out here but I'll catch them in Houston.

Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, and Au Revoir.

Jolly Old St. Nick