Texas community, when the poetic holiday becomes a disaster area

When Jacqueline White moved to the banks of the Guadalobi River in Comfort, Texas, two years ago, she could not imagine living in a more picturesque place. On July 4, the catastrophic floods turned her to the trap of death.

“I don’t think I can live there anymore,” said White, who will now reside with her sisters in the coastal town of Rasabort. “We will have to move away from the river.”

The Texas Hill people reel from a flashing flood that swept the area on Independence Day, overwhelms summer camps and trailer gardens and destroy dozens of homes with a brutality that struggles with the locals to understand it.

At least 120 people have been killed, but many expect the death toll to rise dramatically – 161 people are still imperceptible.

Care County, the most affected area of flood, is full of holidays in stunning views that is one of the largest clouds in the Lone Star State tourist. It is now synonymous with one of the worst – and the most deadly – Natural disasters In modern memory.

White and her children were evacuated to safety in the early hours of July 4. In their absence, a wall of the water was raised and supported it about 6 meters away. It is now in the tilt, like a game that sides by a patience child.

White was fortunate: She reached safety and so did her mother and husband, who lived in the vicinity. But to the West it was a different story. At CAMP Mystic, a Christian summer camp for girls in the nearby Hunt, 27 of the camp and employees in the flood were killed.

Some criticized the authorities, saying that state officials have failed to invest in adequate control over floods and early warning systems.

But the locals are noisy. “People still point to their finger to others, but I live on the river – and I know that it can rise,” said Woody Champs, the husband of White’s wife, who cleanses piles from the roots of garbage trees and tangle from the ground floor of his home. “You have to take some responsibility.”

Unimaginable destruction, especially around the nearby chase and torn. Local officials have spoken of piles of debris from 20 feet to 30 feet, so they warn can be full of dead animals and parts of the human body and are very large so that it can contain an entertainment vehicle. They talk about flood lines 30 feet on tree trunks and rescue men who walk through debris on their hands and knees.

Chelyl Chambers has nine entertainment vehicles that you rented to vacationers at a camp site in comfort. Eight of them were washed in the floods. Some have been retrieved and the river bank is stood, shattered and lined the clay.

Many luxurious cypresses that were crowded in the RV park also swept into the torrent, while others were reduced to its distorted trunks. There are still a few, built with clay and a reflection in a risky angle, as if it was twisted by a hurricane. She said, “They will be a memorial for the flood.”

“We were not ready for this size, but it is small compared to what happened in other camps – we were evacuated, and we had no death,” said Chambers.

She walks to Guadalupe now and again to see if any bodies have been washed on the river bank, taking care to avoid water-toxic-toxic-toxic snakes-which appeared on the ground in the wake of the flood.

Despite the destruction, it is confident that the catastrophe will not be affected by the popularity of the permanent area. She said: “This is very beautiful in an area that cannot be shared with everyone.”

With its green hills, natural springs and fast -moving rivers, the country of the hill was dear by generations of Texas. In the event that the summer temperatures regularly exceed 40 degrees Celsius, they are ideal and resort. Many yearn to buy a plot of land and build a house there, between tables, tables and oak trees that are 100 years old.

For decades, the children came to the summer camps on the banks of the Guadalobi River.

But the region was called “Flash Flood Ally” for a long time, and it is now a seller’s scene. Accuweather estimated at weather analyzes that floods would cost the region $ 18 billion-22 billion dollars in homes and infrastructure, as well as disrupting trade, tourism and health care costs in the long term for survivors.

Hunt, the home of Camp Mystic, is now a cemetery of trees placed in a torrent. The destroyed cars that were destroyed in the disaster in lines along the 39th Highway, the main artery of the CARE province, along with the bare concrete panels left by the growing homes of the growing flood water. A mark on the side of the road says “Jesus crying.”

About 2,200 individuals – some of them are chosen on horseback, and some on foot – the wreckage of homes, trees and infrastructure looking for corpses. The search area has been divided into networks, as each sector takes 1.2 miles for an hour to three hours.

“He left and takes a long time. It is a dirty work, the water still exists,” said Lieutenant Colonel Ben Baker of the Texas guards. “We have to go to the layer according to the layer.”

Betty Matson, 94, spent in Hunt, on July 4, in the attic with seven other family members, where flood water rose around her home.

She remembers: “My grandson said,” Do you want me to pray? “And I said yes.” After a few minutes, he looked at seeing the water.

She said that her house, in which she lived for 38 years, would have to “marginalize”. Many of them were full of contaminated water that gathered the ground, and was absorbed by the walls.

Like many in the region, Matison does not have flood insurance. She said, “We will have to start again.”

Unlike places on the coast like Galveston, provinces in central Texas have very low insurance coverage. In Kiir Province, only 2 percent of home owners are covered in the framework of the Federal Federal Insurance Program, NFIP, and data from the Federal Emergency Management Agency appears.

Through more than 20 provinces called the state disaster, NFIP coverage is in individual numbers.

Standard insurance policies are excluded for home owners and floods – private insurance companies have long been considered a “irreplaceable danger” due to the challenges of their modeling, according to the Institute of Insurance Information.

“If we can rebuild all of it will depend on the generosity of others,” said Matison’s grandson, Barry Adeleman.

But his grandmother is determined to stay. She said, “I love her there, especially the cypress in the backyard.” “It is very peaceful, it’s my home and I love to return.”

Others, though, are struggling with the face of harm. Brian Olsen, who runs the dog house called Paws on the river and rented a small set of holiday cabin in Ingram, when he thinks again to the early hours of July 4.

He said: “I lost 500,000 dollars in terms of damage to property and its lost income – all within 45 minutes,” and he clicks on his fingers. “I 61 – All I had in this work.”

He also lost most of his personal property – photo albums, kidney diplomas and other souvenirs. Some muddy clothes that enable them to recover are hanging on a fence, and dry them in intense Texas rays. Dead fish on its path and the huge mushrooms grew in its courtyard after the flood water decreased.

Despite the chaos caused by his home and work, Olsen said he would likely remain. “Who will buy this place from me in this condition?” He asked. “I have an alternative but to rebuild.”

Additional reports by Lee Harris in London