by Karen B. Gibbs

Friday, August 26, 2005. It was a perfect night for football. The Salmen High Spartans played archrival Slidell High Tigers with tremendous heart and spirit. Cheerleaders fired up the crowds and band members belted out fight songs. Salmen was hungry for a win. By evening’s end, however, the scoreboard told a story Spartan fans didn’t want to hear. They had lost the game. Was it just bad luck or was it a sign of things to come?

Far off the coast of Louisiana, a hurricane was gathering incredible strength. While the cheers of fans roared through the night air in Slidell, wind-driven waves roared under the starless sky of the Gulf. The loss Salmen felt so painfully that Friday was but a jab compared to the knockout punch it would sustain just a few days later.

In the crowd that night were four teens from Salmen’s Class of 2006. Alex Bobo was brokenhearted over the loss. As co-captain of the cheerleaders, she had dreamed of cheering her team on to victory. In the stands, Lyndsey Brown, Gregory Garrett and Michael Kahrs shared Alex’s sadness. This was not the outcome they had hoped for. These four students, joined together by the same team, would soon be torn apart by a common fate—Hurricane Katrina.

Like most residents of south Slidell, our four students evacuated from their homes over the next two days. Michael and his parents took off on a 31/2-hour snail’s pace ride to his brother’s apartment in Hammond. They had food, water, each other and a lot of uncertainty. Lyndsey and her sister chose to accompany their grandma as she headed for Natchez. Lyndsey’s mother, stepfather and middle sister decided to ride out the storm in Slidell.
There had been too many false alarms before, and they were certain this time would be no different. Greg and his mother tried to go to Texas, but were routed to the east on their evacuation journey. They spent their first night in their car at a gas station somewhere in Mississippi. Alex and her parents left in a caravan of cars with her grandma, uncle and four dogs. Their destination: a cousin’s house in Pensacola.

Monday morning, Katrina hit Slidell with a deadly force of historic proportions. Twelve feet of water rushed through Michael’s Coin du Lestin neighborhood, ravaging the lower floor of his house and leaving three feet of water in the second level. While all of his possessions were destroyed, he was heartsick about the loss of his National Guard Award. The devastation felt by Michael and his family found silent expression in tears that fell when they returned and surveyed their home.

For four long days, Lyndsey worried over the fate of her family in Slidell. Then, on Thursday, her mom phoned Lyndsey after calling every relative in Mississippi looking for her. She told Lyndsey that the family had to swim to the safety of a two-story house across the street, but they were all safe. Their house had eight feet of water, however, and everything in it was lost. Lyndsey immediately thought of the only belongings she had of her recently deceased father. She had weighted them down on her bed, thinking only of a hurricane’s winds, and not of its waters. They were gone, as was the jewelry her late grandmother had given her. She was left with only memories.

Greg and his mom left Mississippi and headed for Dallas after the storm passed. All the while, he worried for his brother and the friends he left behind. He had no cell phone, no way to get in touch with anyone. When he finally got word about Slidell, he discovered his brother had survived, his mom’s apartment was fine, but his dad’s house near Salmen sustained six to seven feet of water.

Alex’s house in Kingspoint took on four feet of water. She and her family cleaned out the house a week after the storm. Able to salvage only a few articles of clothing, Alex returned to Pensacola with her family.
Shock gave way to reality, and each of the four teens had to adjust to their new lives. For some, like Alex and Greg, that meant beginning school in a strange city. Alex found it hard to begin in the middle of the nine-week period after missing three weeks of school. Greg said he was terrified thinking he’d have to graduate from a school where he had no memories. He remembers not wanting to get involved with anything at his new school in Dallas.

For others, like Michael, his education would have to wait until school started again in Slidell. In the interim, he lived with a friend’s family and worked on his house during his time off. “I missed waking up on Saturday morning in my own room and having the family all together. I missed doing yard work with my Dad and kicking the soccer ball around with him.” As far as school goes, Michael adds, “My grades dropped a little at Northshore because I was busy working at the house.”

For Lyndsey, it meant moving into her grandma’s house in Slidell with her family until school reopened. Seven people in a two-bedroom house with no A/C wasn’t so bad if it meant being together. However, once their FEMA trailer arrived (“We were one of the lucky ones,” she smiles.), they enjoyed having their own space. On Christmas Eve, her mom surprised them with a new house in her grandma’s neighborhood. “We all have our own room. For Christmas we got beds, and I was very happy about that.”

Just as Katrina’s winds forced our four students apart, the re-opening of Salmen High on the campus of Northshore High School drew them together again, with the exception of Greg, who later joined them in February. In an effort to unite his students—about 50 percent had returned—Salmen Principal Byron Williams held a pep rally the first day back. From the spirit that filled the auditorium that day, it was obvious that the heart of the school was alive and well in each and every student. Seniors were encouraged with news that they would still have their picnic, prom—all the events they had planned. The class trip to Disney World was the only uncertainty because each student needed to pay $425. Hearing of their plight, Salmen alum and Chicago Bull’s star basketball player Chris Duhon and his teammates sent enough money to reduce the cost of the trip to $125 per student.

The first weeks at Salmen’s new campus, students did nothing but talk about the storm. Lyndsey recalls, “We didn’t do work, we didn’t take tests. The teachers were helping us get through this. We wrote essays and did projects about the storm in every class.”

“With so few kids in the class, it felt empty,” Alex remembers. “It didn’t feel right for me not having all my friends back, although it was really good to have all my teachers back and see familiar faces.” She missed cheering at all the games. There were dances, however, and one pep rally.

Michael capitalized on the fact that half the football team was missing and asked the coach if he could join the team. The answer was yes, and Mike ended up playing on the team—something he’d never even dreamed of doing before the storm. This added activity didn’t keep him from toiling at the family home, however. Every day Mike and his friend Eric worked on Mike’s house. On weekends, he shared the task of rebuilding with his family. To their credit, the family returned to their home in April.

Since January, Salmen has found a place to call home on the campus of St. Tammany Jr. High in Slidell. In front of the building is a black sign with gold letters that reads: “Salmen High School—Home of the Spartans.” All four students couldn’t help but notice the sign the first time they stepped foot on campus. “It made me feel good. They’re trying to make it like home for us,” remarks Michael. “Our soccer team practiced on the Salmen High football field where we normally practiced. That felt so good. We did well—went all the way to the second round of playoffs this year,” the proud team captain boasts.

Gregory returned to Salmen in February after almost five months of attending school in Dallas. In spite of the fact that he was doing well in the Texas school and even had a job at Sears, Greg longed to come home. He liked his school and had a lot of pride in it. His friends called him every day and “kept that vibe alive,” he remembers. As co-captain of the Drum Line and a member of the Voice Club, Greg also thought it was time to rejoin the organizations that meant so much to him.

In just a few weeks, these students will walk across the stage in the Northshore Harbor Center to receive their diplomas. These documents will testify to the education earned by each. What you won’t see is a diploma given out for personal growth, yet each of these students has stood strong in the face of adversity. It’s been said that adversity can destroy you if you flee it or strengthen you if you fight it. These students chose to fight, and the strength they’ve achieved by doing so clearly made it worth the battle.

Says Alex, “It made me grow up pretty fast.” She remembers fondly the goodness of students in out-of-state schools who sent clothing and cheerleading supplies to Salmen, as well as those in Florida who collected “Nickels for New Orleans.” “It felt really good,” she says. “I was a victim and going to school in Pensacola and they were helping us out. Because of this, I’ll help out as much as I can if I hear about other storm victims.”

Lyndsey lends a philosophical bent with her comments. “I learned never to take stuff for granted—not life, clothes, money. Because it’s not about clothes or money; it’s about people. You have to help people. People have been so helpful, and I’m so grateful just to have my mom and my family. My mom tells me I’m more mature now. Now I have a job and make my own money. I don’t ask for stuff.”

Adds Gregory, “Before the storm, I was interested in who I was taking to prom, how much money I needed for the class trip, our football team, and project graduation. Right now, I’m more focused. I want to study pharmacy at Xavier. I learned to value what I have. People and good things are important, not the next party scene. I’ve matured. Before, I was lazy about schoolwork. Since Katrina, my grades are way up.”

Michael continues with his lessons learned. “I’ve definitely grown to be a better person. I’m four times the worker I was before. My dad even told me he’s noticed a huge difference. I try to be a really good role model. My nephew and my girlfriend’s brother look up to me.” As far as school goes, Michael has noticed one remarkable transformation. “Before the storm, the seniors ruled the school. There was a difference between a freshman and a senior. After the storm, I saw everybody come together as one. We had the four classes before but now we’re just one class.” And finally, “Don’t take life for granted. Your life could end tomorrow or even today. If there’s something you want to do, do it now. I tell my parents on a daily basis that I love them.”

When asked if they would change what happened following the storm if they could, the students gave surprising answers. Begins Lisa, “On one hand, I might have changed it so the hurricane wouldn’t have hit us and everything would be back to normal. On the other hand, I wouldn’t, because you get a lesson out of it—to take life seriously and value the people and the things that you have.”

Commenting along the same lines is Lyndsey who says, “No, I don’t think so. The storm helped a lot of people realize so many things that would have taken them forever to realize.”

Gregory has a different point of view, “I don’t know. Some good things happened because of Katrina, but it messed a lot of good things up.”
Finally, Michael takes a more pragmatic approach. “I don’t really know if I would change it. Things happen for a reason and things do need to be reborn and rebuilt. That’s the way God says it will be. We have to adapt to it.”

On August 26, 2005, Salmen High School lost to Slidell High on the field of football. On May 15, 2006, the storm-tossed seniors of Salmen High will proclaim victory against Katrina on the field of life. What once seemed to bode disaster has ultimately been conquered. And our world is better for it.