HOUSTON - Wilma Skinner would like to scream at the officials of this city.
If only they would pick up their phones.
"I done called for a shelter, I done called for help. There ain't none. No
one answers," she said, standing in blistering heat outside a check-cashing
store that had just run out of its main commodity. "Everyone just says, 'Get
out, get out.' I've got no way of getting out. And now I've got no money."
With Hurricane Rita breathing down Houston's neck, those with cars were
stuck in gridlock trying to get out. Those like Skinner - poor, and with a
broken-down car - were simply stuck, and fuming at being abandoned, they
"All the banks are closed and I just got off work," said Thomas Visor,
holding his sweaty paycheck as he, too, tried to get inside the store, where
more than 100 people, all of them black or Hispanic, fretted in line. "This
is crazy. How are you supposed to evacuate a hurricane if you don't have
money? Answer me that?"
Some of those who did have money, and did try to get out, didn't get very
Judie Anderson of La Porte, Texas, covered just 45 miles in 12 hours. She
had been on the road since 10 p.m. Wednesday, headed toward Oklahoma, which
by Thursday was still very far away.
"This is the worst planning I've ever seen," she said. "They say, 'We've
learned a lot from Hurricane Katrina.' Well, you couldn't prove it by me."
On Bellaire Boulevard in southwest Houston, a weeping woman and her young
daughter stood on the sidewalk, surrounded by plastic bags full of clothes
and blankets. "I'd like to go, but nobody come get me," the woman said in
broken English. When asked her name, she looked frightened. "No se, no se,"
she said: Spanish for "I don't know."
Her daughter, who appeared to be about 9, whispered in English, "We're from
Census figures show Harris County had 3.6 million people in 2004, of whom
14.7 percent lived below the poverty level while 8.7 percent of households
lacked a vehicle, both percentages slightly higher than national figures.
More than one-third spoke a language other than English at home.
For the poor and the disenfranchised, the mighty evacuation orders that
preceded Rita were something they could only ignore.
Eddie McKinney, 64, who had no home, no teeth and a torn shirt, stood
outside the EZ Pawn shop, drinking a beer under a sign that said, "No
"We got no other choice but to stay here. We're homeless and we're broke,"
he said. "I thought about going to Dallas, but now it's too late. I got no
way to get there."
Where will he stay?
"A nice white man gave me a motel room for three days. Just walked up and
said, 'Here.' So my buddy and me will stick it out," he said, pointing to
another homeless man. "We got a half-gallon of whiskey and a room."
In Deer Park, a working-class suburb of refineries south of Houston, Stacy
and Troy Curtis, waited for help outside the police station. Less than three
weeks ago, the couple left New Orleans after it was ravaged by Hurricane
With no vehicle, and little money, they tried to get their lives together
while staying at a hotel in Deer Park. Stacy Curtis, a nursing assistant in
New Orleans, had a job interview scheduled for Thursday.
But most businesses had shut down because the neighborhood will likely flood
if the hurricane hits Galveston Bay. The streets were empty Thursday
"We're stuck here," Stacy Curtis said. "Got no other place to go."
An emergency official eventually sent a van to take the couple to a shelter
at a recreation center.
Monica Holmes, who has debilitating lupus, sat in her car at a Houston gas
station that had no gas. "We can't go nowhere," she said, tapping a
fingernail against the dashboard fuel gauge. "Look here," she said. "I'm
right on E."
Her husband, a security guard, had a paycheck, but no way to cash it.
"We were going to try to go to Nacogdoches" in east Texas, not far from the
Louisiana border, she said. "But even if we could get on the road, we're not
going to get out. These people that left yesterday, they're still on the
beltway. They haven't even got out of Houston."
So she and her husband will hunker down in their Missouri City home, just to
the south. "We'll be fine," she said. "You can't be scared of what God can
do. I'm covered."
As always, there were those who chose to stay, no matter how dire the
John Benson, a 47-year-old surfer and lifelong Galveston resident, said he
thinks his town "is going to take on a lot of water. But as far as the
winds, I think here on the island, it will be a little bit less than they
Mandatory evacuation orders were issued Wednesday for the area.
Benson said he planned to use his surfboard as transportation after the
hurricane. "The main thing is you have a contingency plan," he said, and
thumped his board. "You got buoyancy."
Skinner, accompanied by her 6-year-old grandson, Dageneral Bellard, would
settle for a bus.
"They got them for the outlying areas, for the Gulf and Galveston, but they
ain't made no preparations for us in the city, for the poor people here.
There ain't no (evacuation) buses here. I got nowhere to go."