In beachy Galveston, locals buckle down without power after Beryl's blow during peak tourist season

GALVESTON, Texas — Vacuums sucked the water out of the seaside inn run by Nick Gaido's family in Galveston since 1911 as power was still spotty nearly one week after a resurgent Hurricane Beryl swept into Texas. Blue tarp covered much of the torn off roof. Gaido scheduled cleanup shifts for the hotel and restaurant staff who couldn't afford to lose shifts to the enduring outages. The July Fourth weekend was supposed to kickstart a lucrative tourism season for this popular getaway's hospitality industry. But just dozens dotted the typically crowded beaches one week later. Gaido felt an urgent need to send the message that Galveston, Texas, is back open. "We've dealt with storms in late August or in September," Gaido said. "But when you have a storm that hits in the beginning of July, that's different." Galveston, about 50 miles (80 kilometers) southeast of Houston, has certainly weathered its share of natural disasters. Etched into its collective memory is the fury of a 1900 hurricane that killed thousands back when the island was emerging as a crown jewel for the state. More recently, Hurricane Ike's 2008 wrath flooded its historic downtown with storm surge as high as 20 feet and caused more than $29 billion in damage. Yet even Greater Houston's storm-seasoned neighbors got taken off guard by Beryl's sudden arrival. Crashing unusually early in the calendar, the Category 1 hurricane brought the island's tourism-based economy to a halt during a time when local restaurants rely on an influx of beachgoers to lift revenues. Despite the widespread power outage, businesses and residents are buckling down. In the harder-hit west side of Jamaica Beach, Way West Grill and Pizzeria was still without electricity on Saturday afternoon. Owner Jake Vincent felt stuck in limbo: he had heard power would return by July 19 but had hope it might come sooner. The loss ruined his entire inventory. He said enough mozzarella cheese to fill the back of his truck had gone to waste. Also spoiled was an 8-foot chest full of fries and an estimated 3,000 pounds of pepperonis. Vincent no longer expects much from a year he had anticipated would finally bring "daylight" for his family-run restaurant founded in 2018. He said most of their annual sales come during the three summer months and that "this tourism season is probably done for." "It complicates things," he said. "You bank all your summer money to get through the winter." Downed cables and orange construction cones could be found along the road linking the touristy strand's seafood shacks to the west end's colorful short-term rentals. Crews from Houston-area utility CenterPoint stood atop lifts, sweating as they restored line after line. Still without power Saturday morning, Greg Alexander raked debris to the edge of the street in his Jamaica Beach neighborhood. Despite sleeping in a balcony-level room in a house already raised high off the ground, he said water poured into the windows. Beryl's horizontal winds blew rain right onto his bed. It's just a part of life here for Alexander. His family moved full-time to Galveston in 2017 after he said Hurricane Harvey dumped 38 inches of water into their Lake City home. Without power, he said they've been "appreciating our car's air conditioning more than ever." He doesn't plan to leave. He said trials only strengthen the community. "People on the west end aren't like everybody else," he said. Steve Broom and Debra Pease still lacked power on Saturday but had been beating the heat elsewhere. Broom said they'd already booked a hotel in Houston this week so his daughter could use the Galveston beach house where they've lived full-time for about five years. They spent only the first night in Galveston and opted to sleep the rest of the week in their nonrefundable room. Steve Broom, 72, said he had never seen a hurricane come as early or increase as quickly as Beryl. Still, he joked that just one factor could force him to move off the island where he grew up. "If they wipe out all these houses, then we'll be front row and our property value will probably double or triple," he said, before clarifying: "No, I hope that doesn't happen." Anne Beem and her husband come every July from San Antonio to celebrate their birthdays. For her, the aftermath has been far worse than the hurricane itself. They enjoyed a nice breeze with the windows open after the storm passed Monday. But she said Tuesday night brought "mosquitogeddon." Hundreds of bugs filled the house so they slept in their car with the air conditioning blasting. She said they also bought a kiddie pool to cool off before the power came back Thursday night. "We just tried to look at it as an adventure," she said. "Each day was some fresh hell."