On Sunday, August 28, we were still okay. I decided to go to the store and lay in some more supplies just in case. Not long before a new WalMart had been built in Long Beach, the adjacent town to the west, so Rusty and I went shopping. As we were preparing to check out, I decided at the last minute to buy a shrink-wrapped supply of bottled water. I mention the name of the store for two reasons. The first is that, at the time it was built, it was the second largest WalMart in the country; and second because, the next day after the storm there was nothing left of it. We had already bought a spiral-sliced ham; 40 lbs. of ice; some soft drinks; and assorted non-perishable foods in case the electricity went out.
The news on Sunday was not good. The storm had taken a slight turn and was heading straight toward our part of the Gulf. By that time, had we left, we would have been trapped on the road in our car when the storm hit, perhaps running out of gas with no place to stay. So we decided to ride it out. After all, what could be worse than Camille! We started doing some rearranging of valuables, including taking family albums upstairs and removing treasures from the walls. We still had telephone and television services through Sunday night.
That brings us to Monday, August 29th. The wind started blowing seriously about 8:30 AM. We knew we were in trouble when, standing in our living room looking out our front door, we saw the posts of our front porch blow out resulting in the collapse of the porch roof. At about 9:30 AM we still could see the stripe in the street, and in ten minutes we had 20 inches of water in our house. People have asked us if we weren't scared to death when the water came in. I can honestly say that some sense of self-preservation took over and we simply sloshed around continuing to protect and preserve what we could. The windows on the south (beach) side of the house blew out almost immediately, driving rain into two bedrooms and sending into those rooms debris from destruction south of us. We watched as both of our cars floated in the driveway. One of them moved into the backyard and landed backwards. The other one knocked against the south side of our house with a tree limb through the windshield.
Within an hour of the water arriving, we discovered that the 60-foot pecan tree in our backyard had blown down ... away from the house! Had it fallen toward the house, it would have crushed the roof above our heads on the second floor.
When we could do no more downstairs, we went up to the top of the staircase to wait out the day and night. Of course the electricity had gone out early as the wind came, so we used candles for light. We had our cooler with food and drink up there. The house was shaking but, in my memory, never to the point where I thought it would collapse. Several hours into the blow, I heard a voice from downstairs saying, " Hello! Hello! Is anybody there?" Gayle and Rusty went down to find a stranger in the living room and the front half of our front door missing. He was soaking wet. He said that he had lived in the corporate apartments in the first block from the beach and that it had collapsed, so he managed to get out and sought refuge in another house. It collapsed, too, and he continued his trek up the street. After doing that one more time, he saw our house. He said that he said to himself that he didn't know if anyone were there but that if he didn't get out of the storm, he would die. So he climbed across the 12-foot pile of debris in front of our house and came in the broken top-half of our front door. We gave him food and drink, and he stayed with us until the worst had passed. Then he decided to try to see if anything had survived at his apartment, and we never saw him again.
We have been asked if we were horrified all through the process to this point, and my answer is not until we went back downstairs after the water had receded, about 11:30 AM, and looked out what remained of our front door to see that all the buildings in the first two blocks of our street were gone. The view out our front door was the Gulf! That was when we knew how horrendous the storm had been. As we slogged through the sludge left after water receded, we heard a voice again. It was the adult son of neighbors to the south of us who was barefooted asking us if we had any medicine or water. Their house had collapsed and they, too, had swum through the water and climbed across rubble to an empty house across the street from us. They were all cut and bruised, thirsty and hungry. We handed out to the son through our living room window a pair of tennis shoes and some medicine, bandages and food. We told him to tell his parents that the three of them were welcome to come and stay with us, but they did not.
We spent the rest of Monday in the house assessing the damage and salvaging what we could. The force of the water was so strong that a chest freezer about 5 feet by 3 feet was turned upside down and a sleeper sofa which must have weighed 500 pounds was blown across the room and lodged against a door. In the middle bedroom downstairs, where the windows blew out early on, we found children's toys that weren't ours, pillows from other people's sofas, and wooden debris. We did not see or hear anyone else out in the street the rest of the day. We were exhausted by day's end, and just collapsed on our pallets upstairs.
The next day, Tuesday, August 30th, we awoke to a beautiful, sunny day! People began returning to their homes and gathering in the street. Since we could not get out of our front or back door, we placed a 6-foot ladder out the living room window and crawled out. As fate would have it, an oak tree across from our house had fallen into the street just north of our property line, and jammed up all debris from proceeding further, but it had not landed on anyone's home, so we walked through our northern neighbor's yard and out to the street. Everyone looked dazed. One man said that he would be glad to call someone for us when he could get a cellphone connection, so I gave him just the name of one sister out of state. Within a few days, he was able to contact her. And a young couple, who lived in the second block from the beach, returned with their pickup truck. Their two-story house was completely demolished, and they had been picking through the rubble trying to find family treasures and toys for their four-year-old son. Gayle and I decided that one of the things that had blown in our window had been one of his toys. They asked us if we would like to go with them and the other family of three whom we had befriended to his mother's upholstery warehouse further inland. He said it was still standing and we were welcome. So, thanking him profusely, we gathered up a few things, and got into the back of his truck.
Somewhere in this time frame, our son remembered that he could change the answer message on his cell phone from, "Hello, This is Rusty. I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message." to "This is Rusty. Mom and Dad and I are alive staying in a warehouse on Pass Road and 15th Street in Gulfport. Someone please come and get us." Of course, all the cell towers in the vicinity had blown down and he could not call out.
We spent Tuesday and Wednesday in the warehouse. Another son lived next door, and he had a lot of meat in his freezer that would go bad if he didn't cook it. So, wonder of wonders, we ate HOT chicken, venison, and sausage for two days! We contributed our few things, too. The first night the two sons were on guard duty. If either heard voices on the street, one would flash a spotlight out there and find out why anyone was wandering around. The second night, our neighbor took his wife and son away to his sister's house for their comfort and protection. So the other son came across his yard with something in his hand. It was a shotgun! He showed Gayle and Rusty how to take off the safety if it were necessary to fire!
Thursday morning, September 1st, our neighbor hesitantly said that he would have to take us to a Red Cross shelter because, if he didn't, his mother would never leave the warehouse. We said that we understood completely, thanked them for their kindness, and he drove us out Highway 49 to an elementary school. At the front door of the school sat a couple checking everyone in. The Red Cross has a certain procedure to follow and list of questions to ask. The woman apologized because, up until the day before, they were able to place one family to a room! However, there had been such an influx that they had to double up, so we were assigned to a second-grade classroom which we shared with two men. For some reason, I had brought with us 3 beach towels. To this day I don't know why I did, but that is what we slept on, using rolled up clothes as a pillow. We were lucky (in many ways) because on our side of the hall we only had little ants biting us in the night. The people across the hall had mosquitoes! One little girl woke up with welts all over her! I had brought a bottle of alcohol, and we dabbed our bites with that. The day before we arrived at the shelter, water had been rationed at half a cup a day per person! The day that we arrived, a delivery had been made of cases and cases of bottled water!
The people at the shelter were representative of humanity. There was a doctor and his son; laborers; people who had lived in mansions and trailers. Two ladies we met had come to the Coast to visit a casino and got trapped in their hotel. We still keep in touch with one of them.
Friday, September 2nd, as we were sitting on the porch, a truck pulled up with "Mobile One" on its side. The driver got out and told us that he'd plug in his cellphone, which was working, and we could line up and make one call at a time, then go to the end of the line and make another. I had our daughter's cellphone number but not the landline number where she was staying, so I called my sister in Scottsdale, Arizona, whom I knew would be at home. She was SO glad to hear from me. She also had Holly's landline number. So I got it from her, went to the end of the line, and called her when it was my turn. We finally talked to her and found out that she had tried on Wednesday to drive to Gulfport from Baton Rouge, had gotten to the I-10 / I-12 split and was turned back due to the heavy traffic of rescue workers, power trucks and supply vehicles.
But the good news is that the morning of Saturday, September 3rd, about 8:30 AM, Holly pulled up into the parking lot of the school. We ran with open arms to greet her. Then we bade everyone farewell, and drove away. Holly said that she had two things to say to us. The first thing was that when officials say to evacuate, EVACUATE! And the second was that, wherever we ended up, there would be a lot of television coverage of the flooding in New Orleans and of the devastation to the Gulf Coast. She didn't think we should watch much of it. We decided to try for Meridian, Mississippi. When we arrived, there was gas and food and water but no lodging. Evacuees and rescue workers had beaten us to the rooms. So Holly called the 800 number for Holiday Inn and asked where there was their nearest hotel with two rooms. She was told either Birmingham, AL, or Monroe, LA. We chose Monroe.
We stayed in the Holiday Inn in Monroe for five-and-a half weeks, sorting out our lives. Thank heavens we had two rooms. When I felt compelled to watch TV coverage, Gayle could escape to the kids' room! A day or two into our stay, we remembered that we had cousins living there. They were so kind to us, letting us come once a week to use their washer and dryer.
Shortly after arriving at the hotel, we saw that there was a business center with one computer with internet hookup. By this time, almost 100% of the persons staying in the hotel were evacuees, and almost 100% of us needed to use that one computer. After a few days, Rusty, the nightowl, discovered that hardly anyone was in the center between 2:00-4:00 AM, so he, then the rest of us, began making contacts with family and friends between those hours. As soon as we could word it, we sent out a generic email telling family and friends what we had been through. We also learned of the extraordinary measures some people had tried to get us out of Gulfport. A niece in California had tried to hire a limo out of Mobile, Alabama! A Dartmouth friend of Rusty's tried to rent a seaplane to land in the Gulf near our house! People from around the country offered us places to live. We were overwhelmed with the tangible and intangible acts of kindness performed by others. At this point in my narrative, I want to thank Alice Ann Joyce Moore, Class of '63, for spearheading the effort to contact fellow classmates and McCallumites. Their string of emails brought solace and comfort especially to me, who knew them, but also to my husband and children. I still am in contact with several of those corresponders.
It didn't take long to formulate a daytime routine. Gayle and I would make a list the night before of what we needed to do the next day, i.e. phone calls, letters, emails. Some days we had between 15-20 items on that list. It was so difficult to accomplish many of those that we began to ask: What are the stupid people doing? Please don't take that as vanity, but here we were, the four of us with six college degrees, and we were having a terrible time making progress. As you have heard, those companies insuring houses were quick to say that water had caused most of the devastation. However, because we were IN our house when the storm came, our insurance companies could not dispute when we said the wind came first and then the water.
While in the hotel, we learned that almost immediately the Army National Guard and the local police set up barbed wire fences and sentry posts with armed guards all up and down the Coast. If one wanted to enter one of these zones, one had to show identification to prove one was entitled to be there. That brought us great comfort while we were so far away.
The first item on each day's list for two weeks was to try and find Gayle's mother, who had been in a nursing home in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. We knew the residents had been evacuated to a sister home near Jackson, MS, but we did not know specifically where she was. After three phone calls, we found out that she was in Meridian, MS, and was five miles from where we stopped after we left the shelter! I'm pleased to report that she is 91 and doing just fine. Fortunately, she does not remember anything about the evacuation.
We ultimately made one trip in a rented SUV back to Gulfport. Gayle had his list; I had mine. Because the house had been moved northward about 5-6 inches, we were not sure how secure it was, so we grabbed what we could. As far as we could tell, not one item had been stolen! Isn't that remarkable? So we filled the car, and took off back to Monroe.
We sifted through the many offers we had for places to live temporarily, and chose Chapel Hill, North Carolina. A friend of our son lived there in a duplex and her landlord was moving out. The landlord said to our son's friend that she had been such a good tenant that she could have first dibs on new renters, and, oh by the way, if they were Katrina evacuees, even better. The friend said, "Do I have a family for you!" So on October 8th, the three of us moved into the apartment that would be our home for almost two years. Holly was with us until December when she returned permanently to New Orleans and her teaching job. Our possessions in Chapel Hill consisted of whatever Rusty had gotten out of his New Orleans apartment. The landlord took us sight unseen, and we became fast friends.
During the first weeks in Chapel Hill, we went from survival mode into hibernation. All we wanted to do was be safe. We would go out just for essentials. We continued to make phone calls or computer contact with FEMA, Nationwide, State Farm, banks, family, and friends. Ultimately, this included applying for the federal grant through the state of Mississippi. After several months of hibernation, we moved into the next phase, exploration. We began to look around the area. Both Gayle and I were "water" people, not "mountain" people, but we began to appreciate the different scenery. The locals were very friendly and helpful.
Naturally, we had to return to Gulfport to meet various officials, like the adjuster for Nationwide. It got to be harder and harder to go back there, but it had to be done. The most significant return trip was made in early December 2005 when we met the packers and movers. With the exception of what we took with us when we evacuated and the few things that would fit in a car, everything we owned had been in the Gulfport house since we left it on August 30, 2005! It was not until June of 2007 that we were able to return to the Coast to retrieve our belongings. In the first few months, I would wake up in the middle of the night worrying about our "things" back in Gulfport even though I knew there was nothing I could do right then. Eventually, that sleep-interruption stopped.
One of the hardest things we were required to do by the insurance company involved our claim for contents. The form was so wide that it took two downloads to get the full form from the computer! For all 93 items, we had to fill in 18 categories! It seemed to add insult to injury. However, we refused to be daunted by the amount of work and completed and submitted the form. Eventually, we secured some payment from the insurance company, and we also were notified that we qualified for the federal grant. Both of those payments made it possible for us to pay off the mortgage on the Gulfport house and to look seriously for a new place.
All during our time in Chapel Hill, we were negotiating with the City Attorney's office in Gulfport about tearing down our house. If approved, the city would tear it down at its expense and be reimbursed by FEMA. A delay in approval was caused by the interference of the Mississippi Department of Archives and History. It told the City Attorney that, because of the age of our house AND because it was still standing, the MDAH would not approve demolition. This was another frustration. However, while awaiting the answer from Gulfport, we received an email from our neighbor who said he had been contacted by a man who lost his home a block from ours and was interested in buying our property ONLY if the house were on it! Needless to say, we were thrilled. We halted the process with Gulfport, made arrangements for a real estate attorney, and sold our Gulfport house all within about three weeks! The Grand Old Lady of 38th Avenue was saved, a stranger would have a new home, and we were freed from obligations in Gulfport! A win-win-win situation!
We often have been asked why we chose South Carolina as the place to live permanently. Our answer is that as we eliminated places we were also condensing the area in which we were willing to live. Gayle suggested that we concentrate in the I-85/I-40 corridor, making it easier for family and friends to get to us. We started looking online for houses similar in age and style to our Gulfport house, but it soon became clear that either the houses were extremely expensive because they had been redone or that the houses needed extensive repairs. So staying in the same region we began looking at new construction. That is how we found Pendleton, South Carolina. As of June 9th, we have been happily ensconced in our own new house in a new neighborhood beginning our new life.
In conclusion, I want to thank all of you who have continued your interest and kindness to me and my family during the past two years. We believe the reason that we are as positive as we are is because of the support from family and friends. We now can tell our story without crying or choking up, but it took a long time. Our experience caused by Hurricane Katrina will never completely die away from our memories, but it no longer controls our lives. I hope I will see many of you at the 2008 reunion.