Galveston, Oh, Galveston...

Funny, but we actually listened to the song Galveston by Glen Campbell as my writing pal, Jeri Odell, and I cruised in our rented Corolla down Seawall Boulevard on Galveston Island. We were there researching two future projects before our writers’ retreat. Jeri and I had our own bedrooms at A Victorian Inn, not far from The Strand, which is Galveston’s historic district.

 As we toured the different shops, Jeri and I heard one account after another about Hurricane Ike and its devastation to the island. Ike didn’t get the same media attention that Katrina did and yet the hurricane packed just as much punch! Marcy, who is a partner in the bed-and-breakfast business, said that flood waters rose to the Inn’s front porch, destroying her apartment below. Thanks to faith-based groups, and others, the Inn has been nearly completely restored.

One almost feels like she stepped back in time as she enters the 3-story mansion. The bed-and-breakfast is decorated with an assortment of Victorian pieces and the home’s polished woodwork boasts the handiwork of a bygone era. I found the carved staircase particularly ornate and handsome. The parlor welcomed guests and at the end of the foyer, there stood a built-in, sunny nook in which one might play checkers.

Jeri and I took a day and cruised from one end of Galveston to the other, noting the evidence of Ike’s deadly path even 3 years later. But the worst was when we took the ferry to Bolivar Peninsula. It seems only an eerie, brown shadow of its former self. Click here to see pictures of the before and after.

On the brighter side, Jeri and I found some time to enjoy the sun, wind, and sand. I knew I had better savor it. While I was gone approximately 15 inches of snow fell in my backyard, here in Wisconsin.