|
 'The Faces of Katrina'
|
'A very personal account'
plus a few photograph's
Wednesday October 12th, through Sunday, October 16th 2005 |
It is wonderful the way the world responded to those whose lives
were impacted by Hurricane Katrina.
It seemed that almost everyone helped in one way or
another. I don’t
remember ever seeing this reaction from people before.
Oh yes, people have always come to the rescue in a
disaster, but not to this degree.
Yes, I helped too. I
got old clothes that I would never wear again and boxed them up
You know those clothes, the ones you’ve kept in your
closet for years telling yourself that one day you will fit in
them again. Dream on, I told myself and started packing.
Sent a donation through my church and prayed for these people,
those who lost everything unexpectedly, especially cherished
mementos. Even
those who evacuated for the duration of the storm were not
prepared for what they would find upon their return home.
They returned to nothing. They
returned to hopelessness, loss.
Material possessions can be replaced, but there are
personal little treasures that we keep through the years that
when lost, creates a scar in your soul that can last through a
lifetime.
Picture#01
I was one of the busy ones packing and donating for those
unfortunate ones. I
did care, really, but I cared for someone I did not know.
There wasn’t a face involved.
It was just not personal.
I cared while yet in my own little world.
Then, I got an invitation to visit a friend in Mobile, Alabama.
A preacher that had been an assistant pastor in the
church I attended in California.
As I had not taken a vacation in four years, I thought it
would be about time to get away, a little R & R so to speak.
In the meantime, a company with which I am affiliated
asked if I wouldn’t mind taking pictures of the devastation
and talking to people while down there. So it became a combination business and pleasure trip.
Picture#02
As I set out on my adventure that Wednesday morning, I wasn’t
prepared for the reality that I would encounter.
I wasn’t prepared for the faces I would meet, the real
people and the real devastation. Mind you now, I took this trip about a month after the actual
hurricane, so there had already been some clean-up in the area.
But just not enough clean-up.
You could still get a clear picture of the effects of the
hurricane. I saw
how it leveled houses. I
found it astonishing how one house made it through the storm
with not a single shingle moved, while the house next door was
completely demolished. It
was an awesome sight. I
saw houses crushed by trees that had fallen on top of them.
However, there was one curious thing that I still can’t
figure out. All the
trees seemed to have been snapped off approximately 10 feet up.
All of them.
Picture#03
I arrived in Gulfport on Wednesday afternoon and thought I would
just drive through town taking pictures and maybe, if was lucky,
I would run into someone I could talk to.
As I rode looking at the sights and taking pictures, I
came across the first face.
This would change the tone for my entire trip. I met with suffering, face-to-face. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul.
I had never seen eyes like this before.
I am not sure there is a word to describe them.
The best I can do is “determined pain.”
This woman’s eyes mirrored the pain she felt, but they
also mirrored her determination to go on.
I saw a mobile home which had been virtually destroyed.
And she and her granddaughter were still living in it.
As I drove up, I saw her working outside, cleaning up all
the debris in her yard. I
walked up and introduced myself and told her of my mission.
My heart broke as I looked into her eyes, as she called
her granddaughter to come join us.
Whenever, my children or grandchildren have gone through
their little heartbreaks in life, I have hugged them while they
sobbed on my shoulder, and my favorite line during times like
these is “Sometimes life just stinks.”
And here I was looking at a situation where life really
did just stink. I
talked to this lady and learned that she was recovering from
lung cancer surgery. And
then the hurricane hit. We
talked about her life, about her children and grandchildren.
She seemed so happy to have someone to talk to that we
just sat down and visited for a while, as her granddaughter
played in the yard.
It was a beautiful afternoon for sitting in the sun and
visiting. After an
hour, I hugged her and left her with my card.
I asked if I could take a picture of her house and she
consented. For a
moment I thought to ask if I could take a picture of her
standing with her granddaughter, but I heard a small voice say
“no.” And when I do recognize that small voice I always listen to
it.
Picture#04
I spent the rest of the afternoon driving around town taking
pictures of houses that had been reduced to shambles, and some
houses that had been reduced to just slabs. I saw signal lights that had been blown off the wires to the
ground. There were
demolished gas stations, and even a demolished warehouse.
Picture#05 Picture#06
After driving closer and closer to the beach, I came upon the
National Guard. They
were only letting the residents of the beach through.
The rest were being turned back.
When I reached the Guard on my side of the street, he
asked if I lived on the beach.
I told him that I did not but that I was with an
organization that wanted to help rebuild lives and that I was
also taking pictures of the devastation that was to be used in a
newsletter. All
he did was stand still and stare at me.
After a few seconds of quiet, I asked if he would like to
have my business card. He stood silently for a few more moments still just looking
at me and then said, “Go ahead.
I just didn’t hear the part about your taking
pictures.” I was
totally amazed that this young man had let me through. I was
actually so surprised that I was filled with glee. I felt like I had just sweet talked the National Guard!
This living in the south was paying off!
Maybe something, or someone, had spoken to his heart?
Whatever the reason, I was on my way to the beach.
Picture#07
When I arrived at the beach, the devastation I witnessed was
incredible. I just
stood in awe looking all around me and taking it all in.
It was such a strange feeling.
When I looked in one direction I saw a beautiful ocean,
so calm, almost like a mirror. The sky was cloudless and the sun’s reflection glistened in
the water. As I
turned my head and looked to the other side, I saw total
destruction. It
looked like a giant had walked through the area trampling
everything down to nothing as he passed through.
There wasn’t a tree left standing and curiously, they
were all broken off at that same ten foot point.
Electric wires were yanked off poles.
Somehow I had been allowed to stand in the exact place
where Katrina had unleashed her full fury. The
silence in the middle of the destruction was eerie.
And I wanted to take it all in.
I wanted to fully experience that moment.
The sun started to set, so I sadly got back
in my car and started to make my way to the church I would be
attending that evening. I
waved to my friend, the National Guardsman, as I passed by, and
he smiled and waved back.
Picture#08
In the church, I found people that had the same face I had seen
just a few hours ago, with the same pain and determination
mirrored in their eyes. I
heard their stories. They told me of how their houses were lost.
One lady had decided to ride the storm through in her
house and described how Katrina had just grasped her house away
while she was in it. Everything
was lost. They
lost their clothing. They
had absolutely nothing left.
They wore clothing that had been donated.
Some didn’t quite fit but it was all they had. There were also people in that church service that had given
of their own time and come down to help these people in any way
possible. And any
way possible in this case, consisted of hard labor.
Rebuilding a house, clearing debris, clean-up.
It seemed that my job at that point was to mend broken
hearts. It was an impossible task and all I could do was give them
hope. How could I
do that when I still had my life in tact?
A feeling of total inadequacy overwhelmed me.
I saw families that were separated for want of a place to
live. I saw the
suffering, but I also saw that same determination in their eyes,
a very serious determination.
In that church I saw people that had come together for a
common goal. From
the pastor to the entire congregation, they were in this
together. They were
helping each other and supporting each other.
There was a feeling of total oneness.
As I said my goodbyes, they invited me to visit again.
As I write this, I recall every different person and
every different story. They
were all the same story, really.
The story of heartbreak and loss.
Picture#09
I continued on my way to Mobile, seeing more devastation,
talking to more people, taking more pictures. I
wanted so much to make them smile and to tell them that
everything would turn out to be okay, but would it really?
Would anything ever be the same for them again?
Even after a new life was rebuilt, there would be the
scars, the memories. How do you replace the loss of a loved one, how do you replace
a lost child, and yes to people like me, how do you replace a
beloved pet?
My trip ended at my destination in Mobile, Alabama where I
thought the “business” part of the trip would be over and
maybe I could forget and enjoy the weekend with my old friends,
reminiscing about the good old days.
But no, I couldn’t, for there were still more faces.
More faces with the same eyes that mirrored the same hurt
and determination. More
stories, each different, yet the same.
I did enjoy my visit with my old friends, and as I left for home
after the evening service I waved goodbye to both old friends
and new friends, friends that would now make Mobile, Alabama
their home, friends now starting a new chapter in lives.
I came back home enriched by each person I met.
Probably the best trip I have ever taken, for I came
face-to-face with life. I
came face-to-face with how your entire life can change forever
in a matter of minutes, and how we still have the drive to move
on. Many times I
just sit still and reflect on each individual face, each
individual story. I
never want to lose the realness that this trip gave me.
I always want to remember the faces of Katrina.
|
By
Luella
May©2005
photographs by kind permission
of Luella May©2005 |
These are Luella's
websites below please help to keep
her articles free by supporting her business ventures,
If you wish to comment then please do so,
e-mail LuellaMay@oakwoodgrafix.co.uk
Please
support +The
Red Cross+ in there efforts to
raise funds, food, clothing and bedding, for the
recent disaster victims and families. Your help no
matter how small will be greatly appreciated, but
do try to give generously. I'm in the UK and far
away from there, but I know that many people the
world over will be digging deep into their pockets
to help.
My Comment
The above article was written by my personal friend and
New Resident Article Writer Luella May, and is a first hand
account of the misery and suffering that Hurricane Katrina
caused.
Thank you for submitting this moving article Luella,
I welcome you, and look forward to
seeing more of your wonderful work over
the coming weeks/ months and years ahead. I do hope you enjoy
your stay here at Oakwood's Poetry Blog,
and your articles prove to be very popular with our many
reader's
from
Oaky
Wood
©2005
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