My father lost his small shipyard in the Hurricane of 1947, before storms were named. One day he had a bustling shipyard, the next day he had beach. Back then, people said that the '47 was the worst storm ever. One of his employees, Mr. Poppadoupolis, lost the boat he fished from (my father's), but saved his net. He said he would get another boat and just sat down on the beach and patiently and precisely repaired his net. My father took a picture of him and ,with admiration, we keep that photo in an honored place and still remember our old friend's indefatigable spirit.
My grandparent's home was lost in 1969's Camille. At that time, my Aunt Dede lived at the Palmetto Lane house, less than a 100 yards from the water's edge. The storm raged, poured water down until the ground would soak no more, and then pushed water up the beachfront. Aunt Dede grabbed her dog and hopped on the bed when the water rose slowly into the house. She balanced on the headboard when the water covered the bed. She held both her head and the dog's up to the 11 foot ceiling as the water rose and then, just as slowly, receded, sparing her life. My brother and I, just teenagers, climbed over hills of debris to find my Aunt, stuck in the house from water-jammed doors. We got her out and then heard a faint voice. Out back, about thirty feet up in a tree, a man had tied himself to her sycamore tree with his ties and belts. We walked out and asked if he needed help and he asked, "Lady, do you have a cigarette." My aunt laughed and laughed . Until she died a few years ago, she said Camille was the worst storm ever, but would also tell her funny hurricane story.
A few blocks from my grandparent's old home, I renovated a 100 year old house into an office facing the beach. We moved in around October of 2004. I filled it with family memorabilia, including my grandfather's desk and a painting of my father's shipyard after the '47 hurricane. I loved that office, enjoying getting there early, putting the flag out, and spending my first cup of coffee watching the pelicans and skimmers. I have front steps and a driveway today. After the storm I weaved through the debris to check on the office. I was devastated and felt empty and depressed. But, as I walked back, I saw a lady searching through the trash and crying. I asked her if she needed help and she said, " My daughter died two years ago and I just can't find a picture of her." I haven't felt sad for myself since.
I now tell people, Katrina was the worst storm ever, but I also tell them that we, my family and friends and neighbors, have a fearsome ability to rebound. Terrible storms remind us how much we love our family and friends. Terrible storms remind us that when you laugh at adversity, adversity loses. Terrible storms remind us that great tragedy gives one great opportunity for kindness. We, your South Mississippi coastal neighbors, believe in our hearts the old Roman proverb, "If you lose your sails, row."
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