Lois & Clark Forums Forums General Discussion Off Topic Katrina - Personal Perspective

Hi everyone,

I'm finally able to send a few emails out now that I'm out of the hotel. Internet service is sporadic where I am, and the computer I'm using doesn't load webpages, so I've basically only got limited email capabilities. But I did want to let everyone know that I'm okay via Steph.

Here's the situation:

Aerial shots show that my house was/is under 9 feet of water. Even the things I put up high are soaked. Bryan's Jeep, which would have been paid off in just a few months, was in the garage, and is now a total loss. We thought we were insured--we bought hurricane insurance, which is outrageously expensive. Unfortunately, hurricane insurance doesn't cover storm surge of historically epic proportions. We lost everything except what I stuffed into the car--my kid, my cat, my mice, two days' worth of clothes, a few important files, my laptop, jewelry, and two
plastic bins full of pictures.

Funny, it's not the furniture and electronics I'm most upset about losing. It's the little stuff. All my Air Force awards and memorabilia. My beloved books, so many signed by authors and friends. My writing books. My computer. My Christmas ornaments I've been collecting since I was a kid. My favorite pajamas and sweatshirt. And worse, the things my son has made for me over the years. I feel so bad for my husband--all his Coast Guard memorabilia and awards are gone. His tools. He's not very sentimental, so the few things that do mean something to him mean a LOT. All gone.

And my son...he doesn't quite grasp the significance of what hashappened. Everything he had is destroyed. All his toys, some not even opened yet from his birthday. His clothes, his stuffed animals.

Before we left, I told him to pack a backpack with the things that meant most to him. I said jokingly to choose wisely since the house might not be there when we got back. Little did I know how true those words would become.

He picked a few stuffed animals and his game boy. He asked if he could bring his school books because he was afraid they'd be destroyed and we'd have to pay for them. Even in the face of losing everything, he was worried about our money situation. I love that kid.

And then there's my cat, my husband's beloved Felicks. He'd gotten very sick with pancreatitis just before the hurricane. He was too sick to evacuate, so I left him at the vet clinic, where the vets were going to stay to weather out the storm. I figured that during a hurricane, a vet clinic would be the best place for a sick cat to be. Now I'm regretting my decision. Sick or not, I should have brought Felicks with me. I suspect that the clinic was either destroyed or inundated by 25 feet of water. I cry and get nauseous every time I think about how Felicks' last minutes would have been as water began to rise in his cage. He'd have been so scared, wondering why I left him to die like that. Wondering where his family was. Dear God, I don't think I'm strong enough to handle all of this. I pray that at the last minute the vets got the animals out, because if not, the animals and vet staff are dead.

My husband's Coast Guard boat is currently patrolling Mobile Bay, looking for survivors. They've only found death. The water is full of dead farm animals. The boat can't dock anywhere because all of the bases have been destroyed. Even if they could dock, my husband can't get to our house because the city of Ocean Springs, where we live, is cut off from the world. The bridge between Biloxi and Ocean Springs was completely destroyed, as was the highway between Mobile and Mississippi. No one can get out of my town, and no one can get in. No phones. The mayor is missing. People in my neighborhood who have been able to get messages out are trapped in the rafters of their homes.

At least my son and I are safe. We couldn't afford to stay in a hotel for long, so we're staying in Georgia with my sister in law. It's crowded, but it could be so much worse, and I'm grateful. I'm finding that I'm grateful for really strange things--I'm happy when I get out my shaving razor because it's something I have that I won't need to buy. Crazy.

My mom is going to fly out and pick up my son and take him back to Washington state to start school again, since it will be months, maybe even a year before Ocean Springs schools can start up again. When roads open up, we'll have to rent a trailer or something to park in our driveway so we can salvage what we can and begin cleanup. I'll take anything we can save to Washington and live with my parents. Bryan will live on the boat and handle house cleanup from there. He can't get an apartment because there is nothing left on the Gulf coast, and we couldn't afford it--we still have 30 years worth of house payments to make on a house we can't live in, possibly ever again.

Our story is not unique, unfortunately. We evacuated over 300 miles out, yet the hotels in the area are packed with people who can't go home. People who evacuated with their pets are having to take them to shelters because they have no homes to go back to. If you live in an area where refugees fled, please consider adopting a pet--there are so many now that need homes.

But as bad as it is for us, I feel incredibly lucky right now. We're alive. I have a place to stay. We lost everything, but there are people who lost everything...AND they lost their jobs. The casinos, the fishing industry...all destroyed, as well as business that employed thousands of people. Bryan still has his job. I'm so proud of the guys on his boat--they know they've lost so much, yet they are having to deal with the unknown and worry while they help others.

I'm lucky in other ways, as well.

A couple of days ago, we had breakfast at Shoney's. My friend who evacuated with me was there, and we were crying as we ordered our kids' pancakes. When we went to leave, the staff wouldn't let us pay. It was such a small kindness, but one that meant the world to me.

And then I learned that the writing community has banded together to help not only me, but other writers who need help. I can't even begin to express what I feel about that right now. But I do want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for all the help and support and prayers.

I like to think I'm a strong person, but this has tested my strength. And the horror is only beginning. It'll take years to recover from this, and I don't know if the nightmares will ever end. Knowing that you are all here will help, though, and you can't possibly know how much that means to me.

God Bless,

Larissa

And then there's my cat, my husband's beloved Felicks. He'd gotten very sick with pancreatitis just before the hurricane. He was too sick to evacuate, so I left him at the vet clinic, where the vets were going to stay to weather out the storm. I figured that during a hurricane, a vet clinic would be the best place for a sick cat to be. Now I'm regretting my decision. Sick or not, I should have brought Felicks with me. I suspect that the clinic was either destroyed or inundated by 25 feet of water. I cry and get nauseous every time I think about how Felicks' last minutes would have been as water began to rise in his cage. He'd have been so scared, wondering why I left him to die like that. Wondering where his family was. Dear God, I don't think I'm strong enough to handle all of this. I pray that at the last minute the vets got the animals out, because if not, the animals and vet staff are dead.

And the horror is only beginning. It'll take years to recover from this, and I don't know if the nightmares will ever end.