Close call on the homefront

Hurricane Ike shortly before landfall, Houston/Galveston Radar, Sept. 13, 1:07 a.m. The black spot in the middle represents my hometown.

Hurricane Ike was bearing down, ready to hit my parents, who live about 20 east of Houston, head-on.

I stayed up pretty much all night Friday, my eyes locked onto The Weather Channel to see what the storm would do next.

What worried me the most wasn't the 110 mph winds. We've been through that before. It was the storm surge and the chance Ike would stall in the Gulf of Mexico like Tropical Storm Allison did in 2001.

Luckily, Ike produced minimal damage to my parents' home as the fence was knocked down (which almost always happens), a few shingles were blown off the roof and a couple plants were ripped out of the ground.

When my dad called me about 11:30 a.m. EST Saturday, to tell me they were fine, I let out a sigh of relief. Seeing Galveston residents up to their waists in the storm surge Friday afternoon put a scare into me.

The lack of damage to my parents' home seems particularly amazing because my dad told me they had winds of more than 70 mph at the house for more than 12 hours.

Ike then threw a couple more twists into my thinking with as quickly it moved once it hit land and how slowly it broke down.

Only 24 hours after it hit my parents, residents of the Wabash Valley felt Ike's effects, albeit as a tropical depression.

The 50-60 mph winds reminded me of home and actually made me homesick for a little while. But to be honest, it's probably the one thing I truly don't miss about home.

But, the cleanup continues back home and along the Texas/Louisiana coastlines, and hopefully, Ike will mark the last threat on the area this hurricane season.