[Editor's note: The following excerpt takes place after the
storm had intensified, and Isaac Cline moved his family to the
second floor of their house. The water on the first floor had
risen to nine feet. Houses all around them were crumbling into
the churning sea. Isaac, his brother Joseph -- also employed by
the weather service -- Isaac's pregnant wife and their three
children, along with dozens of terrified neighbors, were packed
in one room with one window. Even so, Isaac still felt his house
would remain standing. Hadn't he predicted that no storm could
inflict catastrophic damage on Galveston? And then something
struck the house with terrific force.]  Isaac was alone in the
water. His family was gone. He flailed his arms and reached deep
underwater and kicked his legs to feel for soft things,
clothing, someone alive. He felt only square shapes, planks,
serrated edges. He had been inside the house; now he was outside
in darkness, in wind so fast it planed the water. There was
lightning. He saw debris eve