Memories of Katrina rekindled by Helene Published 3:03 pm Wednesday, October 2, 2024 By Editor By Les Ferguson, Jr. Columnist It was Sunday, August 28, 2005, in Gulfport. Like most every Sunday, I went to church, shook hands, hugged necks, and spent 30 minutes or so preaching from the Good Book.
But the whole time, I was worried and uncertain. Somewhere out in the Gulf of Mexico was a little lady named Katrina. After church, I went home to try boarding up my windows.
A friend helped me, and we debated whether we wanted to evacuate all afternoon. I leaned heavily toward staying until my wife came outside and told us the winds were hitting 175 miles an hour. At that point, the decision was made to leave.
Evacuating was its own ordeal. We quickly put clothes together, grabbed some picture albums and essential papers, loaded the dog and kids, and headed to my parent’s house in Kosciusko. Usually, what was just under a four-trip turned into about ten hours on the road.
Bumper to bumper, we crept along. It was stressful and scary. As we traveled, questions stirred through our minds.
Would we have a house to come home to? Would our friends still be there? What would our town look like? Katrina roared ashore on Monday morning, August 29, 2005, and was no little lady. The next day, we went home to Gulfport. If the trip out was terrible, the trip home was terrifying.
We moved trees out of the road, marveled at the destruction we saw, and were amazed by an interstate covered in applia.