(4 of 4)

“Everything I see and hear makes me think of Weston. It’s hard to pick out a specific memory since they are all important to me.

“My husband, Chris, and Weston loved hunting together. They built a gaming PC together. Then Weston picked out parts and bought them to help his friend, Cody, build one as a surprise. Weston loved Christmas. Each year now, we’ve been giving gifts to other young men with EB, teens and 20s we know from Facebook. I feel sorry for them because I know what their life is like, and we want to help make them smile.

“After our house flooded in 2017 because of Hurricane Harvey, we had to live in an apartment for over a year until our house was fixed. We got Weston a kitten, Ricky Bobby, in June 2018. It gave him something to smile about while he was stuck in his wheelchair in that tiny place.

“Even though it was a challenging situation for the three of us there, I’m thankful that I got to spend so much time with him. I wasn’t working the last few years of his life, so I got to take care of him. It was the best job I ever had. Weston was the best boss.

“I would love to go back and live in that little apartment with him like we did after the flood. If I could have him back, I’d live there forever.”

— Dana Zucha

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(Kurt Grevenberg is a native New Yorker who permanently settled in Baytown in 2015. In this essay, he reflects on the coronavirus pandemic’s impact on his former home, friends and family.)

It was late September 2001 in New York City. For the first time in over two weeks, I made my way from Queens, where I lived, to Manhattan, where I worked. Manhattan, where we were attacked. A sadistic part of me felt a need to see the destruction. And while I knew I would never get anywhere near Lower Manhattan, where the towers crumbled to the ground, I still aimlessly wandered the city streets. The acrid smell of 9/11 lingered, and the people who were normally so vibrant and full of life were now morose and broken. Some were crying.

I found myself in the far east side of Midtown Manhattan, an area that was home to a group of hospitals, including NYU Medical Center, where my mother had once worked. I noticed people gathered at the side of a building, staring at its wall. I walked over to stare with them. I immediately regretted it. The wall was covered with photos of people who were either killed or still missing in the terrorist attacks. Hundreds of them. The crowd gasped and wept at the sheer enormity of it all, and it all became so much more real to me.

I felt sick to my stomach. A policewoman who was standing next to me asked, “Are you OK?” I’m not sure how long it took me to answer, but I eventually said, “No. I don’t think I am.” “Yeah,” she said. “Me, either.” I asked if she had lost anyone in that mess. She didn’t answer. I let her know that while I was never particularly fond of cops — I got the desired reaction when she chuckled — I was so grateful for her and people like her. And I thanked her for being there. She took my hand and said, “We’ll get through it.” Just that simple act of kindness and strength revitalized me. It reassured me that we would indeed come together and get through it. And we did. We were New Yorkers, after all. This wasn’t our first catastrophe. And it wouldn’t be our last.

Once again my beloved home finds itself in the crosshairs of a crisis. Half of me feels guilty for not being there to endure it with my people, and the other half is grateful I’m at a safer distance in my new home in Baytown, Texas. A virus that thrives on infecting people through contact couldn’t have found a better target than NYC, where people spend most of the day literally on top of each other. On the news I see empty streets that normally have thousands of people rubbing shoulders, and it’s haunting and unnatural. I’m terrified for my friends and family who are forced to confront it. Lockdown for me is in a spacious house with a large yard and lots of new-found time to spend in my garden. Lockdown in New York means spending all your time in a tiny apartment. I don’t know how they keep their sanity.

I spend much of my day worrying and checking in with anyone who comes to mind, thinking it’s only a matter of time before it hits close to home. It’s sobering when it does. It came in a Facebook video. She wore a brave face as she informed her friends that she had tested positive for COVID-19, and I felt like I was stabbed in the gut. But in typical New York fashion, she was strong and defiant. As the days went by she updated us regularly, and I came to believe she would beat it. She likes to go dancing, and can’t do so under lockdown. I knew she had it under control when she posted a video of her dancing around her kitchen in a gas mask. New Yorkers have an odd sense of humor.

Unfortunately, after that moment of levity, came tragedy from another source. I heard rumors of a friend who was on a ventilator in Mount Sinai Hospital. Several mutual friends scrambled to find details, and we sadly confirmed it was true. The very next morning, the virus had taken his life. I had learned that he was estranged from his family, and realized he most likely died afraid and alone. I thought of the countless retrofitted refrigerated trucks outside NYC hospitals for unclaimed bodies. I think of my friend in one of them, and I curse the unfairness of it all. I wonder how much more cursing I’ll be doing before all is said and done.

I worry. I worry if I’ll have to say goodbye to more loved ones. I worry what will happen if the coronavirus comes to Houston with the same vengeance it brought to New York. I worry what condition we will be in when we finally get through it. Then I feel a surge of pride with my hometown and how it’s managing this crisis — with dignity and determination. New York is arrogant and harsh. But it is also compassionate and generous, and it confronts every hardship with courage. If it has to bear the initial brunt of this pandemic, so be it.

Then I think of my new home here in Texas. I went through Hurricane Harvey, and I remember that there is no shortage of strength here. It finally occurs to me that this strength doesn’t come from being a New Yorker or a Texan. It comes from being an American. And in a time when one might argue that we have never been more divided, I find it ironic that we are attacked by a mysterious enemy that challenges us to work together for our very survival. I suddenly feel less fear because I know that in this country, we will always do what we have to do to survive. After all, we’re Americans.

Please be safe.

— Kurt Grevenberg

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“We’ve been practicing social distancing for four years now. It started in January 2016, when my husband, Herb, went into the hospital. He almost died.

“He had developed an infection in his inner thigh. He got very sick and had a high fever on New Year’s Eve. I was sure he was becoming septic, so I took him to Anahuac Hospital. He was transferred to Hermann Hospital in Houston, where they confirmed he had a serious strep infection in the muscle tissue. They told me he probably would not survive surgery. But if I signed the paperwork, they would try. He had three surgeries in three days. He spent 27 additional days in the hospital on IV therapy to fight the infection. At that time he was a 75-year-old diabetic, so the infection was a big concern.

“After we finally got him home, he was bedridden for 4 1/2 months. He had to wear a wound vac machine to help the tissue grow from the inside out. The hole was the size of a very large orange. But it’s amazing how it healed. Great medicine, great doctors.

“Just when we thought we were back to normal, I took a hard fall in August 2017. I ended up with a concussion and separated shoulder. The concussion caused issues for over a year, and I’m still dealing with the separated shoulder. Then, just two weeks later, Hurricane Harvey flooding changed everything. Most of our belongings and the interior of our house in Moss Bluff were lost. We didn’t have flood insurance. So we’ve been rebuilding bit by bit.

“Since the flood, I’ve sold my photography business property in Baytown, and spent the past 2 1/2 years rebuilding our home. We probably have another year to go. Herb has been helping as much as he physically can. Now I’m watching him ease into dementia.

“With everything we had to learn about protecting him from new infections back in 2016, we feel more prepared now as we’re protecting ourselves from the coronavirus. We had to adjust to a whole new lifestyle, with me working at home and us living in a house that’s not completely put back together. We’ve learned to take things day by day, and not let ourselves get so stressed out.

“This has all been very challenging. But it gets easier when you’re more specific about how you decide to tackle each day. Use the extra time to pray. Call friends and family, and tell them you love them. Take on those tasks at home that are always in the back of your mind. Exercise, meditate, write down plans for the future. Re-evaluating our goals for the next year or two always helps us feel better. It brings peace.”

— Valerie Adame

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“After the Hurricane Harvey, this nonprofit organization called Just the Crumbs from Sumrall, Mississippi, came here. They started providing meals for all of the flooding victims. We were looking for something that Adam could do to help. That’s when Laurine had this idea that maybe he could prepa

re bags to go along with the meals.”

“They said it would be great to include a salty thing, a sweet thing, a napkin, and then mustard, mayonnaise and ketchup. He would get started on them every day, then I’d take them up there and he’d do some more. He’s been doing it for five weeks.”

The post Hurricane Harvey helpers get some assistance appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I don’t have a boat or a ton of cash, but I have a heart, a soul and talent that I can offer. So I’m hoping that this piece will raise some money that can, at least in some small way, help someone rebuild their life.

“I hope it speaks to the heart of Texas and our ability to love our neighbors.”

— Chris Foreman

Chris is a comic sketch artist who created and donated this cover piece to the Hurricane Harvey Charity Art Challenge being organized by Comic Collateral. The auction is scheduled to start on Sept. 29.

The post Comic sketch artist gives with his heart appeared first on The Baytown Project.

The past few weeks, so many stories have been shared of people helping people during and after Hurricane Harvey. No doubt, there are countless more that most of us will never hear about. But in each case, someone was positively impacted because someone else took the time to extend a hand.

Kaye and Richard Sneed in Mont Belvieu hosted two couples that hopped in their cars and drove from Fort Worth to do their part in Baytown.

Former Baytown resident Britt Elliott and his wife, Sahar, joined friends Tiffany and Derek Burke on the recent trip. They brought with them baby strollers, baby and toddler car seats, diapers and other baby items that were donated by friends in Fort Worth.

The post Former Baytown resident helps rebuild after storm appeared first on The Baytown Project.

When Kyle Cervenka left work that Friday, he picked up his airboat and hauled it to his home in El Lago. Hurricane Harvey was coming, so he wanted to be prepared.

“I’ve owned airboats for years. I do a lot of flounder gigging, bow fishing and duck hunting out of the custom built boat I have now,” said Kyle, 47, who grew up in Baytown. “I knew if the rain was bad and the water was high, I’d get calls to help rescue.”

The first call came about 1:30 Sunday morning.

Kyle loaded up and headed out with a friend to the I-45 feeder road not far from his home, where they made 17 rescues.

That was just the tip of the iceberg.

“We ran hard for seven straight days before my airboat just couldn’t take it anymore. I’d say that my buddies and I picked up between 600 and 700 people total,” said Kyle, who worked alongside friends Jimmy Keyes, Jason Koehn and Josh Tauber.

Their areas of focus shifted as the calls came in.

They made lots of rescues in Dickinson, where the water quickly rose to dangerous levels.

“When we got there, it was probably chest deep in places. Before we left, it was on rooftops. We were picking up kids out of second story windows and off rooftops,” Kyle said.

They headed over to Highway 90 at Tidwell, in the C.E. King area, to help move a lot more people to safe locations.

As the week progressed, they found themselves farther from home in Port Arthur. Their main mission was to help evacuate nursing homes.

“Lake Arthur Place is where we worked the most. Most of the people we picked up there were 100 percent bedridden. We were able to load their whole beds on the front of my boat,” Kyle said.

“We actually transported one lady who needed care all the way to a hospital. I drove my airboat right up to the hospital entrance on concrete. It was pretty crazy.”

Helping those elderly patients really touched Kyle’s heart.

“Because my parents are older, all I could think about was what if my mother was in a situation like that,” he said.

Another rescue that stays with Kyle was when they assisted a Marine veteran who recently had open-heart surgery.

“He still had the staples in him. To get him to higher ground was pretty moving. It kind of makes me tear up even now thinking about it,” he said.

When fuel was an issue to keep the airboat running, Kyle posted calls for help on Facebook. It wasn’t long before people stepped up to the challenge.

“They would meet us with 5- or 6-gallon cans full of gas. Those donations kept us going when we couldn’t find fuel at service stations,” he said.

Kyle credits his close friends for working together as a team to save so many people during the week. They were all tired, but they kept on going.

In addition to rescuing people, they helped one of Kyle’s hunting buddies by delivering hay and range cubes to some hungry stranded cattle.

Because of all the devastation and the emotions stirred up by Hurricane Harvey, Kyle admits to having a few bad dreams in the days following their work. While returning to his regular job as a sales manager for a construction company was challenging at first, he’s “getting back in the groove” now.

“I’m back up and going strong this week,” he said. “I’m glad to be back at work, back to a more normal routine.”

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Starting with a simple social media connection, two communities in pain joined forces to help hundreds of families impacted by Hurricane Harvey.

“About seven years ago, I became Facebook friends with a lady named Angie in Indiana through one of the FarmVille games, believe it or not. We kept in touch and always joked around about politics and different things,” Jerry Cates said.

“She’s very much involved with the Southport, Indiana, Police Department, and does a lot of volunteer work. That’s how I learned that they were looking to help out somewhere down here after the hurricane.”

As Baytown and surrounding communities were dealing with the aftermath of Harvey, Southport — a town of about 2,500 just outside Indianapolis — was still coming to grips with a recent tragedy.

Lt. Aaron Allan of the city’s police department was killed on July 27 while trying to help at the scene of a car accident.

“He went to a car that was inverted in a crash. After he climbed in to help, the guy pulled a gun and shot him 12 times. It took Aaron’s life,” said Tom Vaughn, Southport police chief.

“Our community came out and overwhelmed us with food, gifts and memorials. Anything we needed, the people from our town were there. So when the hurricane happened down here, we were trying to find some way to give back to a community that was devastated like we were. We reached out to the same people who were really good to us, and they said, ‘Oh, we’d love to do that.’ They filled our whole garage with stuff.”

Cates, who works at Bay Area Rehabilitation Center in Baytown, got the OK to make BARC the distribution point for a truckload of supplies that arrived on Sept. 8.

“We didn’t really think about it. We worked all day, and then we just jumped in our vehicles and drove straight through,” said Vaughn, who was joined by his wife, Jane, and several officers in making the 1,046-mile trip that took more than 15 hours.

Opportunity Center clients, BARC staff and volunteers were busy throughout the day. First, they handed out cleaning supplies donated by ExxonMobil. Then, after the Southport team arrived early afternoon and they helped unload the truck, they distributed water and a range of household items to more than 200 carloads of families.

All of the supplies were stacked in a building that is normally used for job training for adults with disabilities in the Opportunity Center program. Among other things, they construct industrial-strength pallets that are sold to ExxonMobil.

While Cates made the initial connection that got the ball rolling, “this was really a collaborative effort between Southport Police Department and Baytown PD for our community. They communicated a lot in the background. We were just glad to assist in making it possible,” he said.

Special items that made the long trip were three big bags of stuffed bears that were donated in Allan’s memory. He had earned the nickname Teddy Bear for going out of his way to help local families.

Vaughn recalled how Allan, 38, had met a family whose car wouldn’t start. The husband had been diagnosed with a brain tumor, the wife wasn’t working while she cared for him, and they had a 3-year-old daughter.

Allan went to an auto parts store and bought them a new car battery using his own money. Then he asked the chief whether the department could further help the family.

The police department threw the little girl a party at Chuck E. Cheese’s, with pizza and tokens, and police cruisers filled with toys.

“You’re just a big teddy bear,” Vaughn’s wife said to Allan. And the nickname stuck.

Allan’s wife asked that the teddy bears be handed out to children in need. “So we thought, there’s no better opportunity to give away a bunch of them than right here,” Vaughn said.

After grabbing something to eat and resting for a couple hours, the Southport crew jumped back in their vehicles to make the return trip home.

“We need to get back for a fundraiser,” Vaughn said. “It’s for Aaron’s wife and kids.”

The post Police assistance honors fallen lieutenant appeared first on The Baytown Project.

“I woke up my wife and began ‘water watch.’ In case we needed to evacuate with our son, my wife’s mother and two beagles. It wasn’t long after that I saw my cousin post on Facebook that their house had just flooded. The water came about 3 feet from my front door before the rain slacked enough for it to recede.

“In the days following Harvey, I complained once that my cell service was not working. (In fairness, I do have two medical devices linked to my phone that are a necessity and not a convenience.) I got a huge wake-up call about my selfish attitude.

“The same day I was feeling frustrated about my phone, I encountered a woman in Jack in the Box ranting and screaming at the manager about the amount of cheese (or lack thereof) on her potato wedges. I was grateful that JITB was open, even with a limited menu. The lady throwing a fit put it quickly into perspective. Cheese wasn’t important and neither were cell phones amidst the destruction in Baytown. I asked God to forgive me for my selfish attitude.

“Seeing my hometown ravaged became heartbreaking. I decided to volunteer my time at our church (Rollingbrook Fellowship, First Baptist) in the relief effort. I found it at least a small way I could help.

“I reflect on that Sunday morning as the water was encroaching on my front door and now know that ‘too close for comfort’ is certainly ‘far enough away.’ At church on Sunday, I thanked God for the fact the water stopped short of my front door and prayed (and continue to do so) for those who lost their homes.” 

— James Kingsmill 

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“On Wednesday, the rain finally came to a stop for the most part. We were all in shock, I think. My sister was getting updates on her home to find out if it had flooded. Out of the blue I received a call around 4:30 p.m. from Olivia with Operation BBQ Relief, an organization out of Memphis. She had been referred to me by a fellow realtor I was connected with on a national real estate Facebook page. They were set up in Houston, cooking for thousands of people, and wanted to see if Baytown needed food. All we needed was to get the hot food picked up, and to figure out where and how to distribute it. I looked at my sister, Ginger Mashburn, and said, ‘Oh my God, this is huge, but I think we can do it. Where do we start?’ I thought of a friend who has many connections in the community and thought, ‘If anyone can help me figure this out, she can.’ Her name is Alicia Trant, a district coordinator with AFLAC. The moment I contacted her she got to work making calls. The next thing I knew, she had arranged transport for over 3,000 meals. All I had to do was coordinate things here in town — find shelters and neighborhoods that needed food, and gather volunteers.

“Of course, that same day, our cell service went out. Thankfully, my sister had a different carrier, and she immediately got on the phone calling shelters all over the area, getting head counts, confirming their needs for meals and making lists. I took to Facebook via wi-fi and started begging for help from anyone on my friends list and beyond. And so it began. Throughout the night, the word spread. We received messages from people wanting to help and from groups who needed meals. Sleep was optional, as I kept trying to organize in my mind. On Thursday morning, we got up, ate two boiled eggs and hit the ground running. First stop was Dollar Tree, where we loaded up on serving utensils, foil and anything else we thought may come in handy. We got hugs, high fives and lots of ‘God bless you’ wishes from the employees. We then headed out to the parking lot at San Jacinto Mall. We were met by friends I haven’t seen in years and tons of people I had never met. Even one of my former kindergarten students from St. Joseph School (who is now in high school) had come. And we waited for the food to arrive.

“Alicia and her family and crew arrived in a convoy of trucks and trailers with the food, and our organized chaos began. Operation BBQ had given us even more than we had planned for — enough food for 1,800 meals. We mobilized and started making plates of food, quickly realizing we would need lots of to-go containers. The manager of Chili’s walked over and asked, ‘What’s going on here and what can I do to help?’ Throughout the day he shared everything he could with us. Volunteers visited restaurants all around us and came back with stacks, bags and boxes full of containers and supplies. And we kept working, making plates, sending out deliveries according to our lists, taking calls and messages. As we began to run out of the first load of food, we started planning for round two. We cleaned up, moved our station under the trees, and all the volunteers left to take a break. My sister and I did the same. We ran home to let the dogs out, then to grab a quick bite to eat. We got the call while eating that the second round of food, another 1,800 meals, was on its way. Back to the parking lot we went, armed with more tables and a new dose of miraculous energy.

“Volunteers came from every direction. Some had been with us all morning, others had just made it here from other locations. And we all got to work making plates, loading vehicles and delivering hot meals. From a volunteer who was working from home we got a list of local hotels with evacuees who needed meals, and those meals went out to them. We started to receive visitors asking if we had food we could share. Of course we did. We even had people stop and ask if they could donate money to buy plates. This money was given directly back to Operation BBQ Relief to aid in their efforts. It was a hot, fast-moving whirlwind. At one point, someone messaged me to ask what we needed. I said, ‘To-go containers. We have tapped out local restaurants.’ The next thing I knew, a truck stopped, dropped off probably 300 containers, and left before I could even say thank you. There was need everywhere, but also help being offered.

“As we were cleaning up after the last meals had gone out for delivery, a Baytown Police Department officer came up, lights flashing. ‘Uh-oh,’ we thought. ‘Did we need a permit?’ No worries. This fine officer saw the large group of children who were here with their parents, helping and never complaining. He greeted them with badge stickers, high fives and tons of encouragement. Photos were taken and then he was on his way.

“In the hours and days after that, I’ve received many messages of thanks. Someone said I was a hero. I don’t think so at all. I’m a local realtor who grew up in Highlands, and my heart and soul was hurting for everyone in our community. With less than 15 hours of planning time, WE managed to feed 3,600 people in Baytown, Mont Belvieu and Highlands. All I did was take an opportunity and run with it. My husband had spent two days in a boat with his best friend rescuing people and saving lives. I wanted to help, and a chance to do just that fell in my lap. I had no clue what I was doing. But thanks to God’s grace and some amazing people, WE made it happen.

“Alicia Trant and her crew were instrumental. We couldn’t have done it without them getting the food here and helping us the entire day. My sister kept telling me, ‘Good job.’ I told her she played just as big a part in this as I did. All of the volunteers who showed up and worked tirelessly to do anything and everything needed were priceless. There were smiles, laughter, plenty of tears, and lots of sweat and sore feet. But together WE did it. Because we are, and will always be, Baytown strong.

“In the days after, Alicia and her crew began taking meals from Operation BBQ Relief east into Beaumont, Port Arthur and Lumberton. I stayed behind to care for my family, as their home had experienced flooding damage, and my mom was sent home from the hospital during the demo operation. But I did all I could remotely and continue to do so. I route loads of supplies to where they are needed and help direct anyone in need to resources. I will not stop doing all that I can to help this beautiful city. I could go on for days about what I’ve seen and what I’ve learned. I am blessed and will always carry these lessons in my heart. This is the motivation that will drive me forward for a very long time.

— Gay Lynn Milliorn

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