DownshoreDrift

Remembering Katrina

Five years ago, Hurricane Katrina was bearing down on the Gulf Coast and the City of New Orleans. My homeland was in the crosshairs of a Cat 5 monster that would change the lives of everyone associated with that region forever. My mom and dad lived in Picayune, MS, my hometown, which lay about 30 miles northeast of Waveland, MS and 40 miles northwest of New Orleans. The eye of Katrina passed right over Picayune and devastated the small town on the Louisiana-Mississippi state line. My Mamaw was in a nursing home 20 miles southeast of Picayune in Slidell, Louisiana. Living in Montgomery, Alabama, I could not get to them.  Our fourth child, Caelan, had just been born a few weeks earlier, and I was just about to become the pastor of our church, Gateway Baptist. My wife's grandmother had just died and we were returning from her funeral on Saturday night, August 27. That is the first I heard about Katrina.

I wrote about the events from Monday, August 29 to September 6, 2005 on my blog for the one year anniversary of Katrina in nine installments.   It makes for pretty good reading, I think. A lot happened that week. Katrina hit on Monday. I paced the floor and freaked out all day long. I lost final contact with my family around 4pm that day. Four trees had fallen into my Dad's house - the house I grew up in. He was disabled and was not able to take care of things very well. My Mom and her husband fared better, but I had lost contact with them as well. I had no idea what had happened to my Mamaw. Tuesday found me at an elder's meeting telling our church leadership that I had to go and help my family. They agreed and decided to send a team with me. Wednesday and Thursday were days of preparation with the Red Cross so that we could get emergency credentials and permission to enter the area. We collected supplies, money, people, and transportation. A team of 30 gathered Thursday night to load the trucks and get ready to go. 6 of us left Montgomery on Friday morning and we ended up in Ocean Spring, Mississippi setting up and running a shelter for 100 people. The other 25 arrived that night. By Saturday, I was on my way to Picayune with a quick diversion into the war zone that was Slidell to find my Mamaw. I got to her right before she was going to be evacuated to unforeseen parts and took her with me back to Picayune. She stayed with my Mom and the next day, my uncle and cousins came and took her back to Little Rock, where she would live until she died last December. I then met up with my friends who had all come back home to help their families and they in turn, helped me get the four trees off my Dad's house and lay plywood and roofing materials over the huge holes in the roof. We worked on that roof for about 13 hours on Monday. On Tuesday, I continued to work on the house, and on Wednesday, nine days after Katrina, I brought my father back home with me to Montgomery. It was a harrowing time that has left a mark on me. So much devastation and pain.

Over the past 5 years, thousands upon thousands of volunteers went down to the coast to help people there rebuild. Our church was a part of that. A couple in our church moved down there and stared Pathfinder Mission in Waveland, Mississippi, Ground Zero so to speak, and helped over 600 families rebuild their homes and their lives. We sent many missions teams down and joined with churches all over America by investing our lives in those communities. God has worked in powerful ways and cities have been rebuilt and restored.

New Orleans has revived in amazing ways. So much was lost, but so much has been regained. People have a way of pulling together in the midst of tragedy, and that has happened here. I think that New Orleanians value their unique culture and heritage even more now than they did before, if that is possible. Although I have been away for many years, I am proud to be a New Orleanian as well, when I see how the people there have pulled together to rebuild the city they love. The Saints winning the Super Bowl this past year showed the heart of the city and that it was all so much more than a game for them - for us.

I told my church at the time that if the leadership of Gateway did not lead them to get involved and help the people down there, they should never forgive us. It was a moral imperative and an opportunity that I praise God that we did not miss. So often, we look back in time with regrets and wish that we would have taken action in a situation. In the moment, we are often blind to what was really going on. this case, I am so glad that we did not miss our moment to be the hands and feet of Jesus. It was a privilege to serve alongside volunteers from all over America and to see amazing beauty come out of devastating tragedy.

Seriously, read my chronicles of the week of Katrina:  http://www.downshoredrift.com/downshoredrift/katrina_remembrances/

 

Katrina Remembrances Pt. 9: Heading Back to Alabama & Lessons Learned. September 6, 2005 and Beyond.

This is the final installment in my series on my experiences last year when Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast. I said there were 10 installments, but I'm combining #9 and #10 into this post. So, this is it!

This day would be my last in Mississippi. It was Tuesday morning and I had some work left to do securing the house before my Dad and I went back home. It was time to get him out of there. He was tired and would not have been able to make it through the ice and the gas lines that were necessary to survive on the post-Katrina Gulf Coast. This area would be a very hard place to live for the forseeable future and I was really glad that he had a place to go. My mother and her husband would be staying in Picayune, waiting for the lights to come back on.  But, before I left, there was a good bit more to do, lest all our work of the day before be wasted.

Katrina Remembrances Pt. 8: Gravity's Getting Worse and Worse All the Time: 12 Hours on the Roof. September 5, 2005

I arose early on Monday morning, September 5, 2005, to meet my friends Amos and Russell as we attempted to tackle the roof, or keep the roof from tackling us. We all showed up at my Dad's house with chain saws, gloves, rakes, and some food. Fortunately, my Dad had several sheets of plywood in the garage and roofing material, such as felt, shingle, tar, roofing nails, etc. This was really amazing. This stuff had just collected over the years for no apparent reason, but now it would be used to save the house. It's almost as if God had allowed my Dad to keep all this stuff at his house for such a time as this. Yet another example of God's Providence.

Katrina Remembrances Pt. 7: A Goodbye, an Overwhelming Task, and Faithful Friends. September 4, 2005

This is the 7th in a series of 10 installments chronicling my experiences on the Gulf Coast last year in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, one of the deadliest and most costly natural disasters in U.S. history.

I awoke mid-morning on Sunday, September 4, with a renewed sense of energy and purpose. Even though I had the mini-breakdown yesterday, God seemed to use it to release a great deal of pressure and emotional weight. After a good night sleep on the air matress on the floor, I felt ready to face the day. It would be a hard day, as I would be saying goodbye to my Mamaw, quite possibly to never see her again. My Uncle Fred, and my cousin Jarrod, and Jeff, the husband of my cousin Kristin were coming down to get Mamaw and take her back to Little Rock. The morning and early afternoon were spent getting her ready and making peace with goodbye. She had been such a large part of my life for so many years, I was feeling the sorrow of not seeing her when I went home for visits. My Dad came to my Mom's house where we all were to spend a little time with his mother before he said goodbye to her as well. In her health, we knew that her trip to Little Rock would be a one-way journey, and with my Dad being disabled and not able to travel well, it would likely be the last time he would see his mother alive. It was heartbreaking.

Katrina Remembrances Pt. 6: Picayune, Mamaw, and Sorrow Upon Sorrow. September 3, 2005

I got around 4-5 hours of sleep that night on the floor of a pre-school room at the Christus Victor Lutheran Church. I slept deeply and morning came too early. We all began to stir around 6am and it was time to get moving, yet again. I decided to forego a shower, because I honestly didn't see the point. I was sweaty and filthy, but so was everyone else, and I figured I'd be sweaty again pretty soon. There was a thick heat during the day and it was suffocating with the humidity. So, I grabbed a pop-tart and my bottled water and began the day. We all had jobs to do and we were headed in many different directions.  Residents of the shelter, almost 100 strong began to wake as well, and we were all facing a very busy day. After some preliminary organization, I went with a guy from our church to City Hall to try and secure MRE's for the shelter. He set it up, and we headed back. Throughout yesterday evening and this morning, there had been all kinds of discussion about whether or not I should travel the 60 or so miles to Picayune alone. I felt alright with it, but everyone else felt like someone else should go with me. Chuck and Rob decided to come with me, and, as the day wore on, I would be so glad they did.

Katrina Remembrances Pt. 5: Witness to an Atomic Bomb: The Mississippi Gulf Coast. September 2, 2005

When the alarm went off around 4:30am, I had only slept between 2-3 hours. I was so keyed up after talking with my parents and getting everything together, I couldn't get to sleep. I'm notorious about this. Every mission trip I've ever taken, I've always started out tired because I can't sleep the night before, my mind racing through possibilities, prepartions, and potential problems (that sounds like sermon aliteration - ugh!). Anyway, I awoke, showered, dressed, packed some final things, secured pre-packed items in the borrowed Dodge Ram truck from my friend, and made it to the church to meet the other guys for 6am. It was a humid morning as the sun was rising, and we were all filled with anticipation. FEMA had not yet arrived en masse on the Gulf Coast. The military had not yet secured New Orleans. Refugees were still waiting at the Superdome and Convention Center for rescue. People in little coastal towns all along the Mississippi Gulf Coast had still not received water or  food, or been provided with a place to sleep. As dawn broke, and we headed out, we would be among the first responders, only 4 days after one of the biggest natural disasters in U.S. history. Others had arrived before us, to be sure, but we would be in that first wave of a citizen army of compassion. The next few days would be some of the most significant of my life.

Katrina Remembrances Pt. 4: Final Preparations and Some Good News. September 1, 2005

I awoke on Thursday, September 1, 2005, and took my daughter to school. On the way back, my wife asked me to stop by the neighborhood market to pick up a few things. They're used to seeing me in the morning after I drop off my daughter, picking up a few things like eggs, milk, bread, etc. This morning, while shopping, I called a good friend of mine, Mark, who is a member of First Baptist Church in town and is also the chairman of the board for the largest Christian radio station in Central Alabama, Faith Radio. He answered and I asked him if FBC was doing anything to help out the hurricane victims. At the time, he didn't know of anything, but he asked what the radio station could do. We thought through that for a minute and decided that they could broadcast all day about our trip telling people to bring supplies to our church before this evening. Now, the whole area would know that we were going and how they could help. Praise God!

Katrina Remembrances Pt. 3: The Gulf Coast Convulses in Despair, But Help is On the Way. August 31, 2005

As Wednesday, August 31, 2005 dawned, one thing was becoming clear. The Gulf Coast was disintegrating. New Orleans was in total despair. The levees had broken and thousands upon thousands were stuck on rooftops or were looking for refuge in places like the Superdome or Convention Center. The Mississippi Gulf Coast had been flattened. The news media was airing stories of death, loss, and brokenness. I'll never forget the interview with the man in Mississippi who told the story of how his wife had been ripped from his hands as she was washed away by the tidal wave. He was wandering around in tears, beyond hope, clueless as to what to do next. Watching those images that morning served as a powerful motivation to get to my family, my home, and people in need. Each moment in Montgomery was another moment that my parents possibly didn't have water or means to take care of themselves. Each moment here was another moment that someone else went without. We had to hurry.

Katrina Remembrances Pt. 2: Devastation Revealed, We Respond. August 30, 2005

This is the second in a series of articles on the events surrounding Hurricane Katrina, one of the worst natural disasters in the history of the United States.  These events are seen through my eyes as I watched in horror as my homeland was destroyed and I made every effort to get to my family in Picayune, MS. 

I awoke Tuesday morning, August 30, after just a few hours of sleep. I didn't sleep well. I went to the television and switched between CNN, MSNBC, and FOX News. CNN seemed to have the best coverage as their reporters seemed to be so engaged with the story. I watched for a while as they began to report on the breaching of the levees in New Orleans. Ariel views began to come in of neighborhoods filling with water.  A yacht club burned out of control and filled the sky with smoke. The images on my screen could not be real. It was like something out of a movie, but it was happening to my beloved City. The Mississippi Gulf Coast was obliterated and I could only imagine what happened to Picayune. I couldn't turn away, but I had to get moving.

Katrina Remembrances Pt. 1: Do You Know What it Means to Miss New Orleans? August 29, 2005

This is the first installment in a series of  articles that I am writing commemorating the one year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina hitting the Gulf Coast in August-September 2005. The story is told from my perspective and is meant to create a record for my family of all that took place. It is a good deal longer than my usual writing, but if you have the time, I would love for you to journey with me. If you do, you will understand why I care so much about that area. It is home.

  In late June, 2005, I travelled back home to visit my Dad who was having a minor surgery. I wanted to be with him in case anything happened. He came through it alright and we had a good visit. The next day, I travelled down to New Orleans to see a friend of mine. He lived down on the River up from Audubon Park just across the Jefferson Parish line. I loved the drive across Lake Ponchatrain on a warm summer evening. I remembered driving across the lake as a kid and thinking that it was so huge. Before I got to the lake, I drove through Slidell where my grandparents and uncles used to live. I drove past the nursing home where my Mamaw now lived, my only living grandparent. I wouldn't have time to see her this trip. Oh well, there'd be other chances.

As I drove deeper into the city, I experienced the feel of New Orleans as the warm afternoon turns into evening. It is humid and thick and wraps around you like a blanket. You lose yourself in the warm gulf breeze and it's as though the day is literally melting into the evening.  There's a feel and smell that never leaves you. It is a mix of the tropics, swamp, decay, salt air, and windy warmth.  There's no place like it in all the world.