Scars

Feel that burning sensation? I do. It’s our scars. Those deep, ugly ones we received seven years ago when Hurricane Katrina blasted ashore.

Recovery is a funny word.  It means getting back to normal.  Yeah right, “normal.”  We didn’t go back to where we were before the storm. No, not at all.  I suppose, the cliche “new normal” probably would be more appropriate.  You know it as well as I do that Katrina changed us.  And if you don’t believe me, watch how we’re acting now that a hurricane entered the Gulf of Mexico.

Enter Isaac.

Isaac is no Katrina.  So far, he has not intensified as rapidly as his nastier aunt.  And he has not caused the same amount of damage to South Florida, either.  As I write, his path continues to migrate west of Katrina’s (more like Betsy’s at this point) — but Mississippi is still under the gun.  Each hurricane has his or her own unique way of killing. The residents of the Gulf Coast and inland will feel his effects. Surge, high winds, tornadoes and copious amounts of rain are coming.  It’s bringing up some pretty nasty memories for me.

And I’m not alone. Last night at 8 p.m., the Madison, Miss. Kroger gas station and several other gas stations in the area were swarmed.  If you weren’t around back then, after Katrina, you couldn’t get gasoline in Central Mississippi for days. And let me tell you, that was so much fun. Gas lines formed. School was cancelled. Civilization began to break down.  That not-so-pleasant memory is driving people to fill up their cars’ gas tanks this time.  I know I did. And people are flocking to grocery stores, too. We all know this is more than the “bread and milk” panic you get before a Southern snow storm.  Trees down after Katrina caused electrical outages for days.  It’s good to have lots of peanut butter on hand when the electric stove becomes a nice kitchen decoration for a couple of weeks.

But what really irked so many people yesterday was that the national media once again practically ignored Mississippi during its coverage. And that scar burned like the sun. It was like Katrina all over again. Back then, we all heard about was New Orleans and its (horrible) drowning due to levee collapses. I didn’t realize how bad Mississippi had been ignored by the coverage (due to power outages I wasn’t watching a lot of TV) until 2006 when I spoke at a Katrina conference in Boston. I actually had a student of a very expensive college ask me “Did Katrina hit Mississippi?”  She had thought the hurricane had only hit New Orleans. I felt nauseous.  Yesterday, in a cruel deja vu, CNN and The Weather Channel both glossed over Mississippi when the forecast tract was aiming right at the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Apparently someone on the The Weather Channel referred to the “land mass between Mobile and New Orleans.”

Social media exploded in rage.

My twitter feed lit up like a Biloxi casino. A great Facebook page “The landmass between Mobile and New Orleans” was born.  People contacted The Weather Channel, Al Roker, Jim Cantore, CNN and others directly on Twitter. When Katrina hit, social media didn’t exist.  Today, we have ways to talking back to the people who cover hurricanes.  Our scars burned and they got an earful.  Jim Cantore acknowledged us in a Tweet. The Weather Channel sent reporters (although it is only fair to mention that Cantore rode out Katrina in the VA Hospital in Gulfport).  The word “Mississippi” was rolling off tongues by the end of the evening.

So how do we soothe our scars? We just have to ride this one out. But in the meantime, we can’t panic. We just have to do what we have always done: Hope for the best and plan for the worst.   It’s time to get our three-day plan in place (be able to be self-sufficient for three days — check MEMA’s website for more).  We learned that lesson during Katrina, too.

Godspeed for the next few days.  I pray that Isaac fizzles and no one is injured by his wrath. I pray Mississippi’s strength shines through this week. And I pray that someday, our scars from Katrina will finally heal.