Former Baytown resident’s heart aches for friends
LeeJayne Stone hangs out with a couple of football players during her days at Ross S. Sterling High School.
Baytown, Texas has made national news this week. It’s the town I lived in from my birth at San Jacinto Hospital until I graduated from Sterling High School. My family lived in Chapparal Village on Tumbleweed Lane until I was 5. Then we built our home in the Timber Ridge subdivision just a few houses away from the Cedar Bayou that runs north to south along the east side of town.
I spent my childhood roaming the streets of our neighborhood, down Bayou Boulevard that leads to the many houses of friends who lived in Whispering Pines. Back then we were free to roam on bicycles back and forth until dusk when Mom would step out on the front porch and call out, “dinner!” We’d go racing back with beads of sweat ringed around our necks.
LeeJayne Stone boards a bus as a young student in Baytown.
The tight-knit community that has painted so many memories for me has been sucker punched by Hurricane Harvey. Even as I write this, I haven’t fully accepted it like so many others directly impacted by the devastating flooding waters. It’s nothing short of gut-wrenching to see Facebook posts of homes with water over vehicles sitting in driveways. I’ve read the pleas for rescue from people I grew up with. I listened to concerns of friends who are worried about their parents sitting too close to harm’s way. I’ve felt my own personal fear (the tears are flowing now) as I questioned where my own parents were at every single minute of each day Harvey continued his wrath.
Being a bystander 800 miles away watching the disaster unfold via social media, texts and news coverage has been the single most stressful event of my life. I have refreshed my weather radar app hundreds of times hoping for a break in the rain. My heart aches for far too many people I’ve known for years. I cannot fathom the fear of desperately waiting in your house for help to arrive, relying on a stranger to pull your family out of your flooding home where you should be safe and sound. The stories just keep coming. There seems to be no end to the list of names that show up in my Facebook feed.
I know so many have walked away with nothing but a trash bag filled with whatever they could grab. I know folks who took on multiple displaced families and then experienced flooding themselves. I know families are separated and struggling to find each other. I know some have lost their lives. And so many have lost their homes.
But Baytown, I have news for you. Because I witnessed the devastating Nashville flood of 2010, I can tell you exactly what will happen in the days to come. What seems like endless rain will finally come to a stop. The water will recede. And just like the countless people who drove from other states and communities and showed up in a boat at your front door just in the nick of time, scores of friends and perfect strangers will show up to help you recover.
LeeJayne Stone
They’ll knock on your front door and pack every single item out of your house. They’ll remove the flooring and damaged sheetrock in the blink of an eye and set up fans to dry out your home. You’ll step outside in the flurry of activity to get some air and realize how difficult it is to navigate down your street due to the numerous volunteers. It’s quite a sight to see so many people who have never met self-organize to achieve a common goal. Leaders will emerge. Kindness will know no end. No one will give up, and no one will leave until the job is done.
People all over the country will open their homes to you. You will not go hungry. You will not be forgotten. And as this will be perhaps the most difficult event to get through, you will. You will recover from this, you will go on, and you will thrive.
It just happens. It’s a process. It takes time. It’s full of emotion. But it will happen.
Baytonians, have faith. Have faith in each other to lean on. Have faith that your friends will bend over backward for you. Have faith that those of us outside of the Houston area will do anything we can to take care of you. I’ve had numerous friends in Nashville ask me how they can help you already – even as the rain still falls. They are ready.
We are already making lists, gathering supplies, collecting donations, pulling clothes and blankets from our shelves. We are ready for you and will be there as soon as the roads clear. You will be sick of us in no time.
But we also need something from you.
And this is important.
We need you to ask for help when you need something we are not providing. We need your honesty, no matter how hard it may be. We all have plenty to share, and we are more than willing, but with so many to help, we may overlook a detail that you can provide.
As you sit reading this, many of you are at a loss for what to do next.
Help is coming. Take a breath. Hug your family. And brace yourselves for the love that is headed to Baytown.
My heart is with you all.
— LeeJayne Stone
