Before the Storm

I slept under my desk Thursday night. Part of me wanted to go home, but I'd secured the house - twice - and was ready for the storm, so I stayed at the office, as did a handful of newsroom staffers as well as some outside media.
I'd brought enough food to last for at least two weeks: peanut butter, bread, fruit bars and stuff with enough chemicals in them to rival the shelf life of nuclear fuel rods.
I started the day with a seven-mile run down a normally busy freeway. I saw an occasional emergency vehicle, but otherwise the streets were deserted. Everyone had fled, and nothing was open. I ran down to Lamar University, and on the way back, a charter bus driver stopped and asked for directions to the civic center, where he was to pick up evacuees and get them out of here. I hopped in his bus and showed him the way.
I discovered a shower in the press room, albeit a pretty gnarly shower. Press guys are gnarly people, so I wasn't surprised. Lots of ink. These guys pee ink.
The day was spent planning, arraying reporters throughout the region and filing lots of online stories. By midday, the clouds rolled in and a sustained breeze started.
It felt like having my neck laid out before a guillotine, with the blade agonizingly descended inch by inch, hour by hour.
Reports continued to vary on where Hurricane Rita would strike and how strong she would be.
Mercifully, the winds had dropped from Category 5 to 4 and then a strong 3, but the projected track didn't waiver. It was heading straight for us.