With Fort Worth Fighting The Weather, Neighbors of Ryan Place Become True First Responders

Early morning last Thursday, February 12, an accident involving 133 vehicles on an icy bridge of Interstate 35 West close to downtown Fort Worth sends dozens to area hospitals and claims six lives. It is an ominous overture to troubles to come and an example of deficiencies in preparedness.

The cataclysmic accident won’t be the last time Fort Worth makes national news in the coming days.

A Run On The Store

Returning home that day, my partner, Carlos Gomez, who is an officer for Fort Worth Emergency Management, asks if I had stocked up on food. I point to a Bolognese sauce I have been simmering all day. He gives me the look — a sort of fixed stare that means “You really don’t get it.”

He was right. I had been thinking of the winter storm in terms of “snow days,” which were happy childhood events with shared family time and snow ice cream (don’t even think of making it).

Leaving for Fiesta he asks if I need anything.

“I dunno. Celery? Carrots?”

He returns with a sad package of fatty chicken thighs. No celery. No carrots. The gravity of the situation hits me like an electric shock. I get it.

The next morning I leave the house at 6:30 a.m. to be at El Rio Grande, a large market on the South Freeway, when they open the doors. A thin coat of ice on the car makes me fear for black ice on the roads. I catch a break.

Roads were in good shape and the grocery store well-stocked. Ditto Trader Joe’s. We are now well provisioned, and I have dodged a bullet.

Carlos is receiving regular briefings on the power grid and prepares me for eminent power cuts. My gravest worries are my parents around the corner on Willing Avenue who have severely impaired mobility and depend on a caregiving service to attend to their basic needs.

The Blackout

At 2 a.m. Monday, February 15, my parents lose power. They normally keep the thermostat near 80 degrees. By the following morning, they can see their breath while indoors.

My sister, who is visiting, does what she can to manage the situation, keeping a fire burning and pots full of water simmering on the gas stove. But firewood is running out. And several water pipes have frozen, including the kitchen faucet.

The situation in Fort Worth has become so grave that Judge Glen Whitley, in a letter to Governor Greg Abbott, describes the state of affairs as “of such severity and magnitude that an effective response is beyond Tarrant County’s capability to recover.”

Ryan Place Bands Together

As conditions worsen, the Ryan Place Facebook page becomes an essential resource because, in such an emergency, information has become the most valuable commodity.

Ryan Place Improvement Association president Tim Keith once again steps up. The neighborhood is also extremely well served by Fort Worth City Councilwoman Ann Zadeh, who regularly informs through her posts the locations of warming centers and basic information such as how to shut off water.

Already many houses are experiencing water line breaks, the most notable being the former councilman and community activist Joel Burns‘ home at College and Elizabeth, which makes national news.

“I consider myself chief peddler of information.” says association President Tim Keith. “I could go on and and tell you about the number of people who offered firewood, soup, opened their homes for people to get warm or even spend the night. There were so many neighborhood heroes.”

Among the many heroes are Kendal and Alan Lake who offer their home as a warm place, Matt Lewis who made rounds in his Jeep to deliver supplies to those unable to venture out from their homes and Father Bill Estes at St. John’s Anglican Church who opened the rectory as a mini-warming center.

Keeping The Home Fires Burning

However, my parents’ store of firewood was down to the last logs. Certain that I will never find firewood anywhere for my parents, I resort to an appeal on the Ryan Place Facebook page.

There was an overwhelming, heartwarming response from a dozen people leaving a supply of several days.

But by Tuesday afternoon, my father’s spirits are profoundly low and the situation is truly dire. Neighbors are recording temperatures in the 30’s indoors. Many who are able have already decamped to the homes of friends or family with power. The power has been off for over 36 hours at my parents house. No caregivers have been to the house for 12 hours.

“Once again our neighborhood has pulled together,” observed Keith. “We really have something special here — a real sense of community.”

A blanket has been hung to block off the older and colder part of their 1926 house. Light is candlelight and battery-operated lamps. Information is provided by a vintage transistor radio. Luckily their stove is gas and I have been able to provide hot meals.

At about 6 p.m. there is a break in the clouds. As if by magic, power comes back on and Chelsea, one of the most capable caregivers, turns up to attend my mother.

‘Prepare For The Worst’

“Many people expect rescue and immediate assistance in a crisis, but for extreme situations, those who are able need to be prepared to fend for themselves” Carlos said. “The basic things like three days supply of water — one gallon per person — or even cash (ATMs use electricity), and having a personal survival plan are essential. Prepare for the worst. Ninety-nine percent of the time it won’t happen.”

Personally, I feel a sense of connection and belonging in Ryan Place that I have never experienced anywhere else I have lived. And I am grateful for generous and giving neighbors who were truly kind, first responders for those in need.