Wall of Water Bay of St. Louis. This photo is believed to be a record of the initial onslaught of the direct impact of the hurricane.
Disaster
Hurricane Katrina was the costliest and one of the deadliest hurricanes in the history of the United States. It was the sixth-strongest Atlantic hurricane ever recorded and the third-strongest hurricane on record that made landfall in the United States. Katrina formed on August 23 during the 2005 Atlantic hurricane season and caused devastation along much of the north-central Gulf Coast. The most severe loss of life and property damage occurred in New Orleans, Louisiana, which flooded as the levee system catastrophically failed, in many cases hours after the storm had moved inland.[1] The hurricane caused severe destruction across the entire Mississippi coast and into Alabama, as far as 100 miles (160 km) from the storm's center. Katrina was the eleventh tropical storm, fifth hurricane, third major hurricane, and second Category 5 hurricane of the 2005 Atlantic season.
Bridge to Biloxi, MS
It was two years ago today that the world crashed in on the residents of the Gulf Coast as Hurricane Katrina slammed ashore on the Mississippi/Louisiana border. For many, their lives were irrevocably altered and scarred.
America loves its instant news but easily forgets that which no longer fits into its lens easily. Even the down-trodden are forgotten. At first, the media hovered over them as they struggled to survive in shelters that had no climate control, no food, no water, and no hope. The government eventually came and hovered for a bit, but only at desperate urging. Then like snakes from the flood, they all left, leaving behind the helpless to pick up what they could.
One story that was rarely told in the media was the plight of the residents of the Mississippi coast. More than likely two years ago, you saw the destruction of Biloxi and Gulfport, but you never saw the destruction all along the rest of the Gulf coast. My brother-in-law, Adam, and his family found themselves caught in the bulls-eye of Katrina. While the center of the storm passed to their west, they found themselves staring at a direct assault by the dangerous northeast quadrant of the storm. Their lives were forever changed.
Adam, his wife Pam, and their three boys fled at the last minute before the storm struck to the safety of Pensacola, Florida. They took all they could cram in their van and car and were forced to leave behind most of what they owned and their pets at their Gautier, Mississippi home. They found refuge with a relative there and were forced to sit out the furry of the storm in a crammed house with no electricity, telephone, or air conditioning.
As they bided their time, they could only worry about what they’d find when they returned. Adam was able to borrow a cell phone but there was no one back home to call. He ended up calling me at my house in Roanoke, Virginia and gave me the task of gathering news and information for him.
For the past fifteen years or so that the Internet has been around, I’ve always enjoyed the challenge of trying to monitor emergency communications. Back in the early days of the Internet, you could tap in to emergency text discussion between local authorities and the weather service in places like the Outer Banks of North Carolina. I remember one time tapping in to a conversation where the sheriff of Avon, NC ominously reported that “the Sound had retreated” in advance of a hurricane. That lone, stark message sent shivers down my spine because I knew that meant that the retreating Sound water had to be somewhere to the north of Avon, and that it was currently flooding those areas. I knew it would have to return to Avon and south with a vengeance when the storm passed to the north. A wall of water would no doubt pass from north to south and flood all of the coastal area along the Outer Banks that bordered the sound. Whole villages were sure to be swamped. That’s what happened that day, but you probably never heard any more about it, because the roving media eye couldn’t place that type of destruction to such a small population in its focus.
I found myself in a similar position on April 16 of 2007 when the Virginia Tech Shooter, Cho, went on his rampage. I heard of the event first from my son in a series of cryptic emails exchanged between us.
Norris Hall the following weekend
*******************
10:17am
Mom and Dad,
Just to let you all know, I'm sure you will hear about it, but there have been shootings all over the place this morning. I didn't know anything about these until I was walking back from Robertson's class at about 9:42 this morning and I heard about 15 shots in quick succession from a handgun (a small one since there were 15 rounds) coming from the area around the back of Burruss/McBryde. Anyway, I was beside McBryde, still on upper quad watching. No one reacted at first and then I started to hear sirens. Periodically there were 1 or 2 shots and then the police started flying up. We are talking SWAT vans and unmarked cars doing 50-60 mph around the drillfield and up the sidewalks. It was intense. They all got down behind their doors and stuff like in the movies. It was insane. I just got back to the room and found all of these messages in my inbox, one of which said this at 9:50 am (While I was watching the shooting):
"A gunman is loose on campus. Stay in buildings until further notice. Stay away from all windows"
Good stuff... the year starts off with a shooting and ends with one. What started the whole thing apparently was a shooting in AJ this morning. Anyway, I'll call you all tonight to fill you in on FEX and all of that. I am fine though, just a little excitement.
Sam,
Stay put. Here's a link to the NRV Police Scanner.
http://www.newrivervalleynews.com/content/view/7612/159/
An Update from you would be appropriate about now...
12:35 am
According to the CNN Press release 22 are dead including the gunman. I can't believe it. The campus is closed all day, classes still cancelled tomorrow. I just can't believe it... the police response time was under 30 seconds, and I saw them get there that fast. They did everything right, it just shows what one determined person can do with a gun. The campus is secure right now and there was only one gunman. I have tried getting through to you all on the phones but I can't get service (the phones are clogged with traffic) and can't check my voicemail. I'll try calling mom since I know where she is. In any case, I am fine and everyone I know is also okay (although Alyson lives in West AJ but is in Seattle right now and Ben, the guy Callan worked with, lives in AJ). I'll be in touch
As I listened to my direct Internet with the NRV emergency scanner, the details of the horror began to unfold. Policemen were crying, medics were bravely asking for more and more ambulances. Soon they started to refer to numbers of “black tags” at the Norris Hall site. It was all so horrid and surreal.
Katrina in time
That’s what happened that day as I searched for information about Katrina. Upon receiving Adam’s call for information, I began my search of all the scanners and public reporting agencies I could find on the net, and I began to piece together a picture of absolute destruction. All Adam wanted to know was if he could get back to his home in Gautier. Unfortunately, all I could do was tell him about bridges between Alabama and Mississippi that had collapsed (within a few miles of their home) and of interior flooding that closed roads, and the downed power lines. In the end, all I could do was tell Adam that he couldn’t go home yet. He had to sweat it out some more.
A day later, Adam made his way back by a circuitous route and found that he was one of the lucky ones in his neighborhood beside the Pascagoula River. He still had the shell of his home. He had nothing salvageable inside it, but he had a foundation. Many of his neighbors had their homes simply blasted away by the wind driven water surging from the Gulf and up the mouth of the river. The water blew through his home taking out a side of his house and all of the doors and windows. The furniture and belongings were heaped in soggy piles and immediately began molding. A film of disease laden silt covered everything. His garage/workshop was virtually destroyed along with his cars, boat, RV camper, and truck. Miraculously, their dog managed to float through the forceful onrush of water and climb to safety in the boat.
Gautier, Ms BeachWhat faced Adam, Pam and the boys was a journey that would last almost all of these past two years as they fought for their right to rebuild on their property. Immediately that day when he returned, Adam called me again and enlisted my Internet services once again to place his application with FEMA for cash and a trailer. That avenue was not an immediate relief. It took many months for that first wave of government help to arrive.
In the meantime, Pam and the boys returned and bands of volunteer helpers roamed the destroyed landscape. Some helped them clean out all of their soggy belongings into a rubbish pile. Others helped them repair their roof. Later others came and assisted with more permanent fixes. Along the way, a church in Colorado donated money to them to help them get started rebuilding. The main trouble was that there was a critical shortage of people who could do that kind of work.
In addition to the stress of rebuilding, they discovered that their insurance, which specifically had a hurricane rider and wind damage rider, would not cover their loss. They said that the damage was caused by a flood, not a hurricane. So Adam spent the better part of the past two years wrangling with them over that decision. Eventually, he won a substantial settlement but only after he was able to document the actual wind damage to their satisfaction and provide an expert in the field to testify on their behalf.
Now, two years later, their lives have returned somewhat to normal. Their house has been completed with a repaired roof, new drywall and paint on the interior, new floors, new plumbing, new bathrooms, new kitchen, and new furniture.
Yet despite their success, there are many who have never recovered. Debris from houses abandoned are still piled around their neighborhood. Concrete foundational slabs, like tombs of almost forgotten lives, litter the coastline.
I remember the story Adam told one day during the clean-up within a few months after the tragedy. He said that there was a man who had lost his home to the storm and had only escaped the devastation by leaving his home and traveling in his old Mercedes sedan. When the man returned, all he had left was a concrete slab. That was it. All of his belongings had been claimed by the earth and sea. For months that man refused to leave his concrete slab as the clean-up progressed. He slept at night in his car and went about by day trying to restore a life. He dreamed everyday of rebuilding on his slab.
Then one day, the town’s clean-up crew finally made it to his street. A huge truck was brought in to haul debris from his devastated neighborhood along with bulldozers and loaders. The man watched as the machinery scooped up debris and hauled it away. He was parked next to his slab when the machinery made it to his neighbor’s piles. They filled a load in the truck and it backed up to turn around. As it did so, the laden truck rolled onto the man’s concrete slab, crushing it and making it useless. Besides his life and his car, it was the only thing he had left. He would often point to that slab as his future, the foundation of the life he planned to rebuild. When the slab was crushed, that man’s only hopeful dream was shattered.
As this two year anniversary passes, those of us only impacted by high gas prices will think briefly of that time, and we will move on. Many who lived and overcame the most obstacles will think of the time in ways that we can’t possibly fathom. Others, I fear, won’t remember today as anything special because for them, all of their dreams have been shattered and hope is still far away.
