September 13th marks the 18th anniversary of Hurricane Ike hitting Galveston Island. The devastating effects of the storm were tremendous, and some said the island would never recover, or at least never be the same. It is not the same, but it has recovered and then some! Most of us will argue that it came back better and stronger, and indeed it has. During the pandemic it even became a desirable destination and our real estate market swelled to reflect the new demand. New businesses popped up everywhere, new resorts, new construction, new people. Still, grateful for all the progress and the fresh energy, some of us, myself included, harbor nostalgia for the scrappy years right after Ike, the years when the Island was a haven for hippies and surfers, goats lived downtown, and the most happening social hubs were a juice bar we’ve since lost, and the farmers’ market that has since expanded and lost some of its early vendors who were especially fun: the goat lady from Santa Fe (here I go again with the goats!), Philip the bread guy, the community garden across the street…
But I don’t mean to wax poetic about the past (though I feel very strongly about us salty Island people trying to keep some of that post-Ike scrappiness alive!). What I want to write about is how Ike has largely been forgotten and how we need to remember it and talk about it.
Two days after the devastation of Galveston, Bolivar, Crystal Beach, and other places in our area, the focus of the news shifted to the Lehman Brothers bankruptcy. Ike was forgotten before it even got the coverage it truly needed. It exists mainly in our memories, both individual and collective, and from there, it needs to be excavated and talked about.
There are so many people new to the Island who love it very much and wish to be part of this community in a meaningful way. How will they truly know this place if we don’t tell them about Ike and the devastation it caused? Ike is why we don’t have nearly enough trees, though it is also why we have lots of tree sculptures in the historic downtown. Ike is the reason many people left and never came back. It’s the reason many houses were abandoned, and the reason why before the real estate market went completely bonkers, there were years when one could buy an Island house for a song if one had the determination, time, money, and skill to fix it up. Some beloved businesses went under. Others were able to survive, and it was no easy feat. Yes, it’s nice that we’re spoiled for choice when it comes to buying a coffee (or matcha) these days. Before Ike there was only Mod coffee on Postoffice and everyone loved it, and the Starbucks on Harborside. Mod was completely under water. It has an Ike marker to prove it, though I think many people are not aware of it. Imagine if it hadn’t been able to pull through. There are many places like that, places we should be grateful we have. People who were committed enough to living and doing business on the Island that they decided to stay and rebuild.
We lost the Flagship Hotel, which later got replaced with the Pleassure Pier, and lost the Balinese Room, which had seen so much history. I was lucky enough to get to have drinks there before Ike.
For me, personally, Ike was a crucial moment when I realized how attached I had become to the Island. Years later, this hurricane and some of the memories of it I collected from friends would show up in my novel, Storms of Malhado. I’m glad now, looking back, that I wrote about that storm. At the time it was a simple case of ‘write what you know,’ but nowadays it seems clear to me that this event needs to be remembered and talked about. I hope my book will inspire people to ask questions and find out more about the impact of Ike on our community.
