Every generation has their where-were-you moments. For my grandparents, it was the bombing of Pearl Harbor. For my parents, it was the death of such figures as JFK and John Lennon. For my generation, it was the explosion of the Challenger (although most of us were pretty young when that happened - I was only 5) and 9/11. They are those moments that are frozen in time, where you can remember exactly what you were doing and all the vivid details and emotions associated with it.
Until three years ago, my generation hadn’t really witnessed the damage that Mother Nature could do. We heard tales of Hurricane Camille and the devastation she caused on the Coast. Then came Katrina. She came out of nowhere – everyone was so focused on Ivan that Katrina churned unnoticed, quietly building up strength until she slammed ashore early that Monday morning three years ago today. She shocked us all, and many of us are still recovering.
I won’t get on my soapbox about all the media coverage of New Orleans and not the Gulf Coast. Both of the coastlines of Louisiana and Mississippi were hit hard from that storm. They just felt the storm’s fury in two totally different ways. Nevertheless, it was a horrible thing to experience. As a region we came together and shared stories about personal resilience and hope.
There was a cat that went missing hours before the mandatory evacuation in New Orleans. His owner looked everywhere before leaving, but finally gave up on the hope of finding him. Months later, the two were reunited as the traumatized but still alive cat found his way home. He was hungry and dirty but happy to be home.
There was a house in Pascagoula that took on five feet of water from the storm surge. When the couple who owned the house returned, all of the furniture had been shifted into different rooms. Nothing was broken, but everything was ruined. End tables and dining room chairs had just gently floated around the house. The drawers were still filled with salt water and seaweed. The newlyweds, both born and reared in Jackson County, rebuilt but vowed that just one more storm would likely change their minds about calling the Coast home.
There were babies born, vacations cancelled and 50th birthday plans put on hold. But life went on. It was by no means an easy adjustment for many, but what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?
So today, on the third anniversary of the storm we won’t forget, I wanted to take a few minutes to reflect. Mother Nature can be a force to be reckoned with, and once again she’s at the forefront of our minds as we watch the day-to-day progress of Gustav. Let’s just hope that we all learned some hard lessons during Katrina, and we pray that we won’t have to go through that ever again. But if we do, I’m sure we’ll follow Governor Barbour’s lead and hitch up our britches to help our neighbors. It’s just in a Southerner’s nature to be hospitable. We may not welcome a hurricane, but we sure welcome a challenge.
Until three years ago, my generation hadn’t really witnessed the damage that Mother Nature could do. We heard tales of Hurricane Camille and the devastation she caused on the Coast. Then came Katrina. She came out of nowhere – everyone was so focused on Ivan that Katrina churned unnoticed, quietly building up strength until she slammed ashore early that Monday morning three years ago today. She shocked us all, and many of us are still recovering.
I won’t get on my soapbox about all the media coverage of New Orleans and not the Gulf Coast. Both of the coastlines of Louisiana and Mississippi were hit hard from that storm. They just felt the storm’s fury in two totally different ways. Nevertheless, it was a horrible thing to experience. As a region we came together and shared stories about personal resilience and hope.
There was a cat that went missing hours before the mandatory evacuation in New Orleans. His owner looked everywhere before leaving, but finally gave up on the hope of finding him. Months later, the two were reunited as the traumatized but still alive cat found his way home. He was hungry and dirty but happy to be home.
There was a house in Pascagoula that took on five feet of water from the storm surge. When the couple who owned the house returned, all of the furniture had been shifted into different rooms. Nothing was broken, but everything was ruined. End tables and dining room chairs had just gently floated around the house. The drawers were still filled with salt water and seaweed. The newlyweds, both born and reared in Jackson County, rebuilt but vowed that just one more storm would likely change their minds about calling the Coast home.
There were babies born, vacations cancelled and 50th birthday plans put on hold. But life went on. It was by no means an easy adjustment for many, but what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?
So today, on the third anniversary of the storm we won’t forget, I wanted to take a few minutes to reflect. Mother Nature can be a force to be reckoned with, and once again she’s at the forefront of our minds as we watch the day-to-day progress of Gustav. Let’s just hope that we all learned some hard lessons during Katrina, and we pray that we won’t have to go through that ever again. But if we do, I’m sure we’ll follow Governor Barbour’s lead and hitch up our britches to help our neighbors. It’s just in a Southerner’s nature to be hospitable. We may not welcome a hurricane, but we sure welcome a challenge.
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