Ike Victims Clamor For Food, Water, Gas

This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

The New York Sun

HOUSTON — Thousands of victims of Hurricane Ike settled in at shelters for what could be weeks, and others waited wearily in line for food, water, ice, and gasoline yesterday as it became increasingly clear the disaster along the Texas coast would be measured not by its death toll but by the misery it spread.

Almost three days after the storm steamrolled the coast, the extent of the damage was still coming into focus, with rescue teams finally reaching some of the hardest-hit and most inaccessible places, including Bolivar Peninsula, a resort on Galveston Bay where entire neighborhoods were obliterated.

While the number of confirmed deaths was still remarkably low at 37 in Texas and eight other states, the distress was considerable.

Nearly 37,000 people were in shelters in Texas, and there was no word on when those living in the most devastated towns, such as Galveston, might return. An estimated 2.2 million people in Texas alone remained without power. Many service stations had no gasoline, or no electricity to pump it. With no running water, some residents were dumping toilet waste directly into the sewers. Major highways were still under water.

Victims grew irritable as they waited for food and water. Some relief stations ran out of supplies, leaving thousands hungry and panicked.

Lines of cars stretched two hours or longer at Texas Southern University for packages of bottled water and bags of ice, the only supplies on hand until three 18-wheelers showed up around noon. Cheers broke out when it was announced there were boxes with chili, a small bag of Frito chips, and a cookie.

Snapshots of damage were emerging everywhere: In Galveston, oil coated the water and beaches with a sheen, and residents were ordered off the beach. Dozens of burial vaults popped up out of the soggy ground, many disgorging their coffins. Several came to rest against a chain-link fence choked with garbage and trinkets left behind by mourners.

Galveston officials guessed it would be months before the island could reopen, and warned that mosquito-borne diseases could begin to spread. Cows that had escaped flooded pastures wandered around a shattered neighborhood. An elderly man was airlifted to a hospital, his body covered with hundreds of mosquito bites after his splintered home was swarmed.

“Galveston can no longer safely accommodate its population,” the city manager, Steve LeBlanc, said. “Quite frankly, we are reaching a health crisis for people who remain on the island.”

In San Antonio and Austin, thousands streamed into 284 shelters set up by the state. As local officials sternly warned it wasn’t safe to come home, many wondered how long they would be there, how they would pay for meals, and what was happening to their families.

Gov Perry of Texas urged people to be patient, calling rescue workers “heroes” who were doing their best to help their neighbors.

“Here are the facts: You never are going to get ice and water into an area that’s been impacted like this hurricane,” Mr. Perry said after touring damaged towns. “It’s just not going to get in fast enough. I know there are a lot of frustrated people out there.”


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