Coming Together in a Time of Need
The Gulf Coast from Alabama all the way to Texas was
hit hard by Hurricane Katrina. The most physical destruction was on the
Mississippi coast in places like Gulfport, Long Beach, Pass Christian
and Waveland. I spent my adolescence in this area and call it my second
home. After Katrina passed I was frantic to find an old childhood friend,
Rush Heald, who lives in the area. After watching the news from CNN,
I was in great fear for my old friend’s life. Phone lines were
down and there was no way to get messages in or out. CNN played the gloom-and-doom
broadcasts over and over until I thought I would go nuts.
Derrick Evans, the new Turkey Creekkeeper in Mississippi, called to tell
me that he was coming down from Boston to check on his elderly mother
and family and to bring down supplies. We decided to share the driving.
We left Birmingham in the middle of the night to hide our cargo from
the ruthless thieves and looters that we heard about on CNN. We were
hauling 600 gallons of gasoline, pallets of plastic for roofing, water,
food, clothes and other supplies needed on the coast.
On our way we passed a convoy of FEMA trucks sitting along the side of
the road waiting for orders telling them where to go. Derrick and I got
to the coast with our supplies before FEMA, a full four days after the
storm! This was the case throughout the entire time I was with Derrick.
We always had supplies a day before FEMA. We distributed tons of soap
powders and bleach, food and water, chainsaws and generators with fuel
and oil.
Everywhere we went we were assaulted by an unimaginable smell. Think
of what you have right now in your refrigerator. Unplug it for a week
and then multiply that by the thousands of homes totally destroyed and
piled up in the debris line that stretched from Mobile, Alabama all the
way to Texas. The infrastructure was so badly damaged in many places
that there was no way to control sewage.
Roadside drainages had fish
squirming around trying to live in the filth of floodwaters. You couldn’t
escape the smells of rotting fish and animals. Then add the chemicals
normally stored in your pantry for cleaning, gas for the lawn mower,
propane for your grill, pets and every now and then the unmistakable
whiff of something even more horrific.
Arriving at the Turkey Creek Community at daybreak Derrick and I wept
as we looked at his neighborhood. It was simply overwhelming. I was worried
about getting caught in the violence that the press was reporting. But
nothing could have been further from the truth. There was no confusion
and chaos, no looters and thieves.
People in Turkey Creek received us with open arms, thanking us over and
over for coming to help out. As it turned out, Turkey Creek had received
a truckload of food and was okay for the time being. I was floored when
they asked if I wanted to take some of the excess to Long Beach where
I was heading to find my friend Rush. What a twist, Turkey Creek is the
poorest and oldest predominately black community on the Mississippi Gulf
Coast. Long Beach, by comparison, is one of the more affluent white communities.
I saw this kind of generosity and caring play out over and over. Wealthy
people living in tents alongside people from Section 8 housing, sleeping
on the ground in common areas. Poor people were teaching rich people
how to make coffee in a tin can over a fire. Everyone had something to
offer their neighbor.
In Long Beach, we were supplied with diesel fuel for our truck. We had
hauled 600 gallons of gasoline for others but forgot to carry extra diesel
of our own.
At one of the relief centers we met a man who drove his camper and served
food to hundreds of people. He was neither from the coast, nor did he
know anyone there. He simply wanted to help. That happened all over the
coast: ad-hoc relief efforts by total strangers. The other heroes of
the day were, and still are, the local mayors, firefighters and police
officers who worked tirelessly 24 hours a day, 7 days a week until backup
did finally arrive.
I went in search of my friend and brother, Rush. I found
him. I stayed for a few weeks running a relief drive, fueled by the kindness
of the many who sent donations. Much of that money came from my friends
and fellow Waterkeepers. I have never been more proud to represent an
organization as caring and compassionate. Thanks to all from the entire
Gulf Coast!
Hurricane Creekkeeper
Debris and wreckage line the roads all along the Gulf Coast.
Hurricane Creekkeeper
Author (in truck) distributing supplies.