Four years ago tomorrow, on August 29, 2005, the worst natural disaster in our country’s history struck my hometown of Long Beach, Miss., and the cities surrounding it.
I’m sure you do not need to be reminded of Katrina’s stats: about how it killed over 1,000 people or how it wiped out even more thousands of houses, businesses and livelihoods. I do not have to tell you about the power being out for an entire month, or how the droning on of chainsaws and gas-powered generators filled my neighborhood from sunrise to sunset. I do not need to tell you about the storm surge, you know that it was the largest recorded by an Atlantic hurricane. I’m sure all of you know towns were without power and running water for many weeks and months following the storm.
However, allow me to take you a bit deeper into the post-Katrina Mississippi Gulf Coast, and how the three months following the storm greatly had and continue to have a great affect on the way I view life, both at home and at Mississippi State University.
My family was relatively lucky when it comes to damage. My house is north of the railroad tracks and is not near a bayou or river, which means that it was not threatened by floodwaters as much of the Coast was. We lost a small tree at 6 a.m. that morning, the fence line and had some leaking through the old roof that needed replacing anyway. Our neighborhood in general did not sustain as much damage as Bayou View, Gulfport or the Ninth Ward in New Orleans, LA.
In the hours and days immediately following Hurricane Katrina, communication lines were few and far between, and it was hard to know the extent of the damage. However, it did not take long for heart-stopping news to travel down the wire. The casino barges in Biloxi, huge multi-ton barges which floated in the Mississippi Sound just offshore, were on the north side of the coastal highway. The bridges spanning the bays of Biloxi and St. Louis were destroyed: they did not exist anymore at all. Houses were completely wiped off of their foundations, leaving only a concrete slab and memories behind. Boats were thrown inland and cars were taken out by the retreating surge; everything was backward, it seemed.
However, one thing shone through the clouds brighter than the hot August sun: human beings’ good nature. We helped each other because divided we would fail, but together, we could clean up, find water distribution centers, pass out MREs (Meal Ready to Eat) and keep each other sane in the three hour gas and lumber lines by exchanging stories. Volunteers began to show up in force only days after the storm had passed.
The Red Cross was a tremendous blessing, as they provided clothes-washing facilities, passed out free water, food and necessities. My neighbors made run to Mobile for food and gas for three or four families on the block. There were opportunities all over for people to help, even for me. Even though I was a “victim” of Katrina, my family was far better off than most, and as my beachfront school wasn’t opening until Nov. 1, I got involved in the volunteer efforts as well.
The youth director at my church coordinated with dozens of volunteer agencies from out of town to clean up church members’ houses. Also known as “mucking out” a house, I spent my time off from school cleaning out flood-affected houses of the mold and muck so the families could rebuild again. The stench was overpowering, even with a mask on and holding my breath, it was hard to remain in a moldy area for more than a few minutes. However, we suffered through, knowing our hard work would pay off for these very deserving families. They were starting from the absolute bottom, and our help gave the families the ability to begin a new life, post-Katrina.
It was during these two months that I found a silver lining in the jet black clouds that followed Katrina. The human spirit was strong, and the desire to rebuild and begin anew was so overwhelming that it caught me by surprise. People were not standing on their porches wondering what to do and mumbling to themselves, “This is terrible.” No, they got their hands dirty and worked and continue to work today, as we should here at MSU, for the betterment of our lives and the lives of those around us. I believe you’ll find that doing something may help, and it may not, but doing nothing will never change anything.
So as you conclude the second week of the 2009-2010 school year, whether you’re a brand-new freshman or a sixth-year senior, there’s always something in our lives we need to work on. I’m here to urge you not to see this as a chore or a bother, but rather as an exciting opportunity to become better. After all, we Coasties could have sat on our lawn chairs until the grass grew taller than us, feeling sorry about our situation, but we didn’t, we graciously accepted the help that was provided, and we helped ourselves and each other. That lining looks pretty silver to me.
Ben Leiker is a sophomore majoring in biological engineering. He can be contacted at [email protected].