"Seems nobody got it as bad as you guys."  That's what one of the tree cutters said to us as he was meeting homeowners in the area and compiling a job list that would take him deep into the fall.  So what does that give us? Victims' rights?  No.  It gives me a lot of pictures for the Victoria Gazette.
Our end of the Parkside neighborhood, located on the west side of Schutz Lake, was indeed hit hard by the Summer Storm of 2007, just as it was hit unusually hard by the Spring Storm of 1998. 
This place is serene and tranquil, where sheep and cows grazed for a century by the lake and in nearby pastureland, and then where new homes were built and carefully nestled into the landscape about 35 years ago, not long after farmers sold out.  Is it the devil or the deep blue sea that sends such damages to this neck of the woods, twice in less than ten years?
"Why did you build a house in the woods?" someone asked.  The obvious retort is, why do people plant trees?  And why do people build houses anywhere?  Is there a failsafe place to live secure from floods and falling trees, typhoons and tsunamis, hail and hurricanes, avalanches and earthquakes, scorching droughts and prairie winds, towering infernos and volcanic eruptions, thunder storms and lightning strikes, mudslides and waterslides and everything else that can wreak havoc in our physical world?
Because of the destruction in our own neighborhood on August 11^th, I didn't get out to other parts of the city right away.  I did drive through the heavily treed Zumbra Ridge and Foxglove neighbor-hoods of Victoria on the second or third day, however, and there was damage but nothing that tugged the camera out of my bag.  Maybe I was still in a trance.
If Victoria residents have storm photos or stories, you are welcome to send or email them to the Gazette just as I always welcome other news of the days of your lives.  Sue@VictoriaGazette.com

It was around 3 o'clock that Saturday morning of August 11^th when Allan and I woke to the roar of a locomotive heading directly into our bedroom at full speed.  It was accompanied by deafening cracks of thunder and steady bolts of lightning that lit up our house as though it were high noon.
And still we bumped into each other as we were jolted from deep sleep and didn't know just which way to scramble first.  Rain was pouring in torrents and slamming things against our windows.
As we darted from room to room in the dark, upstairs and down, turning on lights, shutting off lights, we could see shadows of destruction in all directions when lightning lit up patches of the pitch black night.  Then we could only sit back and wait until dawn of day would reveal the pictures that are worth thousands of words and the damages that are worth thousands of dollars.
In that waiting I had fallen lightly asleep on the couch, dimly waking around 5 o'clock or so.  I perceived the light but didn't immediately move lap or limb.  Allan was stirring about the same time from upstairs.
We went from window to window and room to room, this time as in a trance, silent except for barely audible groans that can't be spelled.  We were grieved to see a tangled mass of brush and broken bough covering our lawn and yard with branches stretching up to the sky from new posi-tions everywhere below the sky.
Fallen trees surrounded our home.  The "branch" that landed on the roof of our house was much bigger than the trees growing in new Victoria neighborhoods.  Large trunks lay all over the place like Lincoln Logs scattered in a tantrum.
Fallen trees and treetops landed on our deck, on our driveway, our retaining walls, our entire landscape.  I opened the front door and sighed at the sight of clean white bark that had been stripped top to bottom from mature and stately maple trees.  Again, those kinds of sounds and sighs are not found in written language.
We stepped outdoors in continued silence …

Click here to continue Summer Storm of 2007.