Isaac

The sun is beginning to come up across Mississippi. Isaac, the obnoxious houseguest who won’t go away, continues to punch the Gulf Coast with surge and rain. The rest of the state is losing trees and electricity at a rapid rate.  Wind is howling. Rain is falling.  We’re hunkered down for the duration.

Our emergency supplies are ready.  If we have power, we’re thankful. If not, we’ll cheer the power truck’s arrival like a kid seeing the ice cream man pull into his neighborhood. We’ll continue to watch the trees in our yards with trepidation and pray they stay vertical.  Creeks are beginning to rise. And so are our anxiety levels.

Seven years out from Katrina, Isaac has picked at old wounds. Scabs are coming off and we’re seeing images on the television (if we have power) so eerily similar to that hell storm in 2005.  Waveland is flooded. Casino row is more like casino river.  National guardsmen are out of patrol.  Like I said in my cartoon, Mother Nature could have just sent us an anniversary card.

So we wait. We wait for the sun to totally rise so we can assess the situation. We wait for the water to go down. And we wait for Isaac to finally leave and allow the winds to calm.  Many of us are already making plans to go help our neighbors.  We’ll cut the trees, clean up the debris and help our friends get back on their feet.  We’ll volunteer with our church or synagog. We’ll cut a check to charity. We’ll have friends and family stay with us as they rebuild their lives.  How do I know? Because that’s what Mississippians do. As I’ve said before: When things get bad, we get good.

Isaac, we look forward to your departure. You’ve really been a nasty little #$%%. Go get the heck out of here and don’t let the door hit you on the butt on the way out.