Part Two. One Last Adventure

For Joy's 16th birthday, Lou treated us to a beach house.

Joy and I and her first "real" boyfriend, Ben, headed to Galveston from Shreveport for Spring Break. We spent the first 4 days in Galveston. We rode around downtown. We took the kids to ride horses on the beach. We collected seashells. We ate at Tortouga's. We looked at houses--Lou, thinking about purchasing a third home on the beach,was in sticker shock. We had a great time.

So in '98, everything was in chaos. There was a change in principal. Joy had a tough freshman year at college. Our personal lives were boring. It was time for a change for both of us. So we headed to Galveston and spent a week at the Flag Ship. We began our search for jobs and a place to live.

And everything or the fates or God or karma--all ganged up against this move.

I thought I had the best resume of my life. I interviewed with Galveston ISD. My transcript from the University of Houston showed F's for four classes I had dropped in 1982. This was the first thing human resources showed me from my file. I was so embarrassed. (I'm still trying to get this corrected!). My teacher test scores from TEA showed failed--this has since been corrected. And the Director of Fine Arts would not consider me for an art position because I did not have an art degree. It did not matter that I was certified with 10 years experience. It didn't matter that I had earned teacher of the year awards and national grants.

I was not going to get employed by GISD. And I had already resigned my job in Shreveport.

Joy and I went house hunting. It was so hot and the air conditioning went out in the car. We were so miserable.

The apartments just didn't appeal to us. When we finally found one that might meet our needs and wants, within walking distance of the beach,--there was a waiting list.

We looked for lofts and no one would return phone calls.  Realtors only had info about the apartment complexes--could not find anyone in the know about downtown lofts.

While walking the streets one day, on the Strand and Post Office, I lost my car.  I felt as if I were in the Twilight Zone.  Downtown Galveston is quite small -- four streets east/west, and five streets north/south.  My car was no where to be found.  I was hot.  I was miserable.  I ask a policeman for help--I found him at the cigar bar.  He made a call and found it had not been towed.  But I was on my own--walking up and down streets, in search of the elusive car.  And low and behold, it was right where I left it.

The next trip downtown, I locked my keys in the car.  This is something I have done several times.  I was at MOD.  A very nice gentlemen offered to unlock it for me with a coat hanger.  Of course no one has coat hangers any more so that took an hour to find.  And then another two and one half hours to unlock the car.  This poor guy was not going to give up and call it quits.  He was so sure the next hook of the hanger would pop that door right open.  I have to admire him for his persistence.  And he did finally succeed. 

Nope---moving to Galveston????  Just not sure the fates were on our side.

Then there was the little thing called hurricanes.  First Gustav then IKE.