In the days before the storm, most coastal Mississippians were busy in preparation. Fully aware of the destruction she left in her wake on the beaches of Miami as a Category 1 hurricane, local residents proceeded with their pre-storm preparations. Meanwhile, Katrina spent 4 days churning over warm gulf waters, building herself into a massive Category 5 hurricane, with sustained winds around 175 miles per hour, and gusts up to 215. By August 28, mandatory evacuation orders were issued in Louisiana, Mississippi, and parts of Alabama in anticipation of her arrival. Up in the Jackson area, where I lived, we were told to anticipate thunderstorms - some may be severe - heavy rainfall, and wind. Essentially, no real preparation was necessary. So, we kept the television on and watched for our friends to the south. In Jackson, we had no supplies, no plan, and no idea what was about to unfold...
On the morning of August 29, 2005, Matt and I were in a "business as usual" mode. Matt went in to work at his usual time. The kids did not have school that day. By mid-morning, the skies were black and the clouds were thick with rain. Ominous in the background, I decided to turn on The Weather Channel. Katrina, big and aggressive, was already working her way into New Orleans and battering the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Matt came home before lunch, and the skies began to pour. I had never seen rain so heavy, so thick, and so continuous. By mid-afternoon, we had lost power, roof shingles, a few trees, and all hope of escaping Katrina's wrath unscathed. The weather reports had been, initially, that Jackson should anticipate Katrina being only a tropical depression... she hit central Mississippi as a Category 1 - 2 hurricane. Our guard was down and we paid dearly.
By nightfall, the kids were tired and afraid. We had no power, and all of us assembled in the coolest room of the house to eat and listen to the radio by candlelight. Our fears of total devastation were realized upon hearing initial reports from the only local Jackson station broadcasting at the time. While news from New Orleans was grim, our neighbors directly south in places like Long Beach, Biloxi, Kiln, Bay St. Louis, and Pascagoula, were downright heartbreaking.
After 4 days without power, having eaten all of our canned goods and bread, and having burned all of our candles and used all of our remaining batteries, I penned the following in my journal:
I feel certain that 50 years or more from now people will know what I'm talking about. Hurricane Katrina. We had no idea how bad it was going to be. Biloxi and Gulfport are gone. New Orleans is ruined. It's all just total devastation. I don't even know where to start. I'm going to begin by explaining our current condition. Here in the Jackson area, it's rough. I'll start by saying that here in our home, we're learning to cope. At present, it's 96 degrees, humid, and dark. We have no power. So, we have no air conditioning. Not even a fan. We have to boil our water. We'll have to throw out a freezer and refrigerator full of food that will spoil if we don't get power back on soon. They say most places will be without power for weeks. There is no ice or water in most of the state right now. Nor is there gas. And if there was gas, it's over $3 per gallon in some places - if they have power to pump it. We've heard that there are some folks selling gas to people waiting in line for $20 a gallon. Or folks charging $6 a gallon at the pump. So, we've got nothing. And no way to get anything. If we could go out, I doubt it would do much good - no stores have power. Most stores will only take cash since the credit card machines are down. Unfortunately, we've got no cash since the ATMs are down, too. We are fortunate enough that our family is all okay, and our house only suffered minimal damage. I say that because the Mississippi coast line is destroyed. Leveled. There are no words that could possibly describe how incredible this hurricane was. I've never seen anything like this. And I've been fortunate that I've now lived through it with no harm done except terrible inconvenience. I would never want to make like of the situation, but it's been hard for me with the kids. We've got no air conditioning in this heat, no food or water, no way to leave, no money. We just feel helpless. And our only real connection to the world outside is the radio - if our batteries hadn't died. We know it's bad out there, but we haven't seen it yet for lack of power. Here in Clinton, we've got trees down all over the place, no power anywhere, no clean water, no ice, no gas, and NO PATIENCE! But in New Orleans they say there are bodies floating in canals, people sitting on roofs waiting to be rescued, people starving to death or dehydrating, hospitals losing power. At the Superdome, 10,000 evacuees are knee-deep in water, no power, no running water. They have to urinate and defecate in barrels that are overflowing. They're starving. And they're scared. We even hear rumors that a man killed himself inside. The military is supposed to be flying down to help evacuate those people to Houston, but had to stop because someone fired shots at the helicopters. It's so chaotic. And looters have gotten all the retail buildings picked clean and are now looting hotels and hospitals! That completely blows my mind! And all that is just New Orleans. I haven't mentioned the Mississippi coast or Hattiesburg yet. Hattiesburg was hit hard - third worst behind New Orleans and the Biloxi/Gulfport area. Gulfport and Biloxi are totally wiped out. The casino industry on the coast no longer exists. One casino was gutted up the third floor. Another was picked up and placed atop another. And another was thrown to the other side of highway 90. There really aren't any buildings left from the beach to about a mile inland. Matt says it looks like a nuclear bomb went off. Slabs with no houses. It's just incredible. The awesome power of Mother Nature! People in New Orleans are just wandering aimlessly on the freeway overpasses because they're starving and thirsty and completely displaced. In the Biloxi/Gulfport area, the death toll keeps rising, the bridges are wiped out, the power company has lost its ability to generate and distribute power. There is such a difference between the destruction in New Orleans and the destruction in Mississippi. On the Mississippi coast, there simply is nothing left. New Orleans still exists, just under water. And I should mention Mobile, too. Mobile is flooded. Storm swells pushed ships into one another in the bay. 50 years from now, if someone reads this, I hope they can truly understand that this storm has changed everything. The Mississippi coastline has been wiped out. New Orleans is forever changed. And our hearts are changed, too. Iraq hurt us. September 11 shocked us. But this... Hurricane Katrina hit home. Our own neighbors have lost everything. And all we can do now is sit, wait, and pray. We all want to help, but we just can't get help to the ones who need it. There are people who are absolutely desperate to survive right now. When I think of all the mothers and fathers who can't feed their children, or themselves, or the kids who are hungry and scared, or the sick and hurt who just need help... it just breaks my heart. It's beyond words. They're calling it the worst natural disaster on US soil. But I was one of the lucky ones... I survived.We would go 5 more days before power was restored. We managed to drive an hour north - nearly exhausting our gasoline - to find an ATM that was operational and had cash and a grocery store that still had bread and canned goods and batteries.
Matt was deployed shortly after our power was back on to spend 4 months on the Mississippi coast at Keesler AFB, helping the Army with "Operation Blue Roof". He rode from Biloxi to New Orleans in a Blackhawk, taking incredible aerial shots of the massive destruction. I was proud of him - and all of the Army - for their recovery efforts, though it must've felt overwhelming.
The casino blown across the highway:
My brother-in-law deployed with the National Guard to perform search and rescue operations, that later turned into recovery efforts, marking property to inform of bodies left on the premises.
After all this time, Katrina is still a very real presence in our lives. It changed the way we prepare for a storm, the way we deal with the storm, and the way we recover from a storm. In the weeks and months that followed Katrina, Matt and I were forced to make difficult decisions about future weather systems. We had plans in place, kits and supplies, and established escape routes. We would never be caught unprepared again.
The Mississippi coast is rebuilding, but it will take time. Even now, her beautiful historic coastal communities, with magnolias in full bloom and mossy oaks, remain scarred from the wrath of the worst storm to hit our nation since record-keeping began. Mississippians will recover, but they will never be the same. Katrina leaves a foul taste in the mouths of those who were blessed enough to survive. But that's what Mississippians do - they pick themselves up, wipe off the mud, and persevere.
