Grit and the gridiron rescue a town
It’s only 3 p.m., but North Alamo Street is beginning to resemble a Texas ghost town. “Closed” signs tilt from mud-flecked doors. An errant piece of corrugated tin scrapes restlessly against a sagging fence post. A tattered American flag whips in the breeze, clanging against a bent flagpole.
Hurricane Harvey left an indelible mark on Refugio and other small communities in what’s called Texas’ Coastal Bend, battering buildings and replacing bucolic bliss with chaos. But the streets in this town of 2,890 people are not empty because of the hurricane – they are empty in spite of it. It’s a brisk nod of Texas defiance in the face of overwhelming loss. A tip of the hat to the unifying roles of faith, family, and football as Texans begin to rebuild a way of life that neither war nor weather has managed to vanquish.
In the library, director Tina McGuill ushers a family toward a computer. The library got a new roof this summer, and though the hurricane removed a few shingles, all but 170 of the library’s 17,000 books were spared. Even more important, the library reopened quickly, allowing locals to use fax machines, copiers, computers, and internet access to connect with insurance agents, charity organizations, the state unemployment office, and the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA).
More than 75 percent of the town’s structures were damaged, some merely losing windows, others collapsing completely beneath the weight of uprooted, century-old mesquite trees. Every day brings new paperwork for beleaguered homeowners. But today is Friday. And in a few hours, heartache will give way to the magic of pigskin and sweat, dedication and dreams.
“There’s a saying around here,” Ms. McGuill says. “Last one
