It was about this time nine years ago that I heard a voice cry across the newsroom, “There’s water on the second floor of the Beau Rivage.”
That was the moment I knew the Mississippi Gulf Coast would never be the same.
And it’s not. Gone are the middle-class homes that used to dot the beach. New flood plain maps and sky-high insurance rates took care of that. The might oaks still dot the coast, but they were thinned out by the salty surge and high winds. (and bulldozers cleaning debris.) Claims have been settled and lives have moved on. There has been growth north of the flood zone and along 1-10, but the high cost of insurance bedevils many residents.
The scar still remains along the Coast. And it burns.
In Jackson, we had a 12-hour wind event like I’ve never seen. I nearly was crushed by two falling trees while driving home during the height of the storm. And I saw an interstate road sign fly off its posts. My house, thankfully received little damage. But many of my neighbors weren’t so fortunate. (Oaks seems to take it harder than the pines did.) I had a pile of debris in my yard over six-feet tall.
We learned a lot after Katrina. One, is that civilization won’t keep running very long when you don’t have electricity and gasoline. Life began to shut down quickly in the days after the storm. Two, if you had a plan before Katrina, it wouldn’t work afterwards. The storm was too big. Too devastating. Bureaucracies like FEMA struggled to fulfill their mission. Private groups (including many faith-based organizations) filled in the cracks. The importance of flexibility and change was taught. (A lesson hammered home during the Great Recession.) And three, we learned that when things get bad, we get good. The outpouring of help after the storm was nothing short of a heaven-sent. On this ninth anniversary, let me say thank you to ANYONE who volunteered to help us after the storm. Heroes after Katrina were average people who saw a need and filled it. They soothed our wounds with hard work and compassion.
We also were taught another valuable lesson: The cavalry won’t come right after a monster storm. We have to be prepared to survive on our own for at least 72 hours. And we must heed official evacuation orders.
Yes, the Gulf Coast is changed. We all were who went through that storm. But the lessons we learned from Katrina will stick with us forever. And like the mighty oaks that line the beach, the Mississippi Gulf Coast survived live another day.
Well said, Marshall.