By Staff
I shouldn't be sitting here writing this column. I should be on my way to Chicago to meet my baby brother, his wife and my baby sister. We all planned to begin our vacations together there. We haven't seen each other since last Christmas and I was so very looking forward to spending the time with them, showing off Chicago and, later in the week, Niles.
But a ruthless witch named Katrina disrupted our plans and the lives of my family and countless others.
I should be grateful - and I am. All my people in south Mississippi and Louisiana are alive.
They have shelter and food to eat. The last of them had electric service restored at their home on Wednesday night. Our only loss so far has been the contents of freezers. My mother lost quarts and quarts of speckled butter beans, crowder peas, okra and the like, all put up this season. Believe me, in ordinary times, that loss alone would cause my entire family to shed many tears.
However, in the midst of the immeasurable tragedy, we well know how fortunate we are.
That's not the case for thousands and thousands of people along the Gulf Coast. The loss of life and property is unimaginable. I sit in the comfort of my home and watch the videotape and am stunned, numb. I want to turn away, but can't pry my eyes from the sickening images.
In my opinion, Katrina caused an American tragedy greater than any we've ever known, including 9-11.
The images make me sick to my stomach. They also leave me frustrated and angry. I see the thousands of people wading through contaminated backwaters, desperately making their way to the higher ground of the elevated ramps of the interstate surrounding the city and become furious that we haven't yet found a way to drop them much-needed water, food and other supplies or get these people off the sweltering hell of the concrete roadway.
A day outside in The South in August is something I can't describe to you. I wonder to myself if that help would have been easier to provide if not for the fact that almost half of the Louisiana National Guard is deployed to Iraq during this time when they are so needed at home. We should bring the Iraq-deployed members of the Louisiana National Guard home right now. They are needed to provide help here at home. They need to care for their own homes and families, too.
The area suffering so has been such an important part of my life. Every family vacation I can remember growing up was spent on the Mississippi Gulf Coast.
That was during the time before casinos, when the 20-plus miles of man-made beach made for an unobstructed view of the Gulf of Mexico.
And, New Orleans. Where do I begin? It's such a short drive from my mother's, where I grew up, and my brother and sisters' in Baton Rouge. Because of that, it's a place we all enjoyed frequently. Yet, last Christmas, I didn't take the time to drive into New Orleans and I'm kicking myself for it now.
I went to college in Lafayette, La., less than an hour from New Orleans, and spent more time there then than I should have.
Now, I wouldn't take anything for a moment of it. New Orleans is difficult to describe to those who haven't experienced it.
It's unfair that the vision most have of New Orleans is a drunken Mardi Gras party. That's not New Orleans. In fact, most in New Orleans stay away from The Quarter during Mardi Gras.
The city is so interesting, so vibrant. Its attitude toward life is so healthy. Its culture, which is a three-century mixing of British, French, Spanish and African people, is like no other. I pray we haven't lost it forever.
I hear television anchors talk about how it may be months before the water is completely pumped out of the city and I shake my head in disbelief. I'm not convinced it's ever going to be possible to get all of that water out of the city. Water goes where it wants and if Mother Nature has finally found a way to make New Orleans a part of the Gulf of Mexico, there won't be anything man can do to reclaim it. However, I know New Orleans. Like a Phoenix, it will re-emerge. It may be in a different place geographically, but it will return. The Mississippi Gulf Coast, will, too. In the meantime, keep these good people in your prayers. Help in any way you can.
Damn you, Katrina. These good people didn't deserve your wrath.
Readers are invited to submit their opinions for publication.
Comments? jan.griffey@leaderpub.com.