by Sophie Giberga
Katrina devastated many. Leaving people homeless, helpless and fearful. But fearful of what? What could possibly be more frightening than seeing your world torn to pieces? This is the story of one family that thought it had lost what made its small neighborhood special, but then learned that what made it so special was not its physical beauty, but rather the people that live there.
We live on a small street in Covington that not many know—except the nine families that live on it. In our neighborhood, everyone is family and we have always thought of it as a little slice of heaven. With each yard abundantly blessed with towering 100-year-old pines and other mature flora, it seemed as though where we lived was more of a park than a neighborhood. But we learned that nothing beautiful necessarily lasts forever when one day something came that seemed to destroy everything we loved about our home. That thing was Hurricane Katrina.
The storm seemed to go on forever. I watched from the kitchen window as all of our trees and everything we never truly realized to be so important fell before my eyes. As I watched in terror, I thought, how can this happen? How can God let this happen? Why? I cried silently, praying for the end.
As the storm finally began to subside, we walked outside in disbelief. Everything that once was vertical was now lying horizontally on the ground. I felt as though I was trapped in a nightmare with no one there to wake me up. The tranquil setting to which I was accustomed was a jungle, a war zone. As I walked around, looking for what used to be our driveway, I felt a tear running down my face, though this time, I wasn’t sure why I was crying. I think it was for the knowledge that for miles around me my world was devastated.
Over the next two days, we all worked together to get ourselves out. With our family of five, thirteen other evacuees, six dogs and a cat, quarters were very close! The house smelled of dog and cat, it was hot and sticky, and no one could bathe. It seemed like we would be there forever, living like this, but when the men began chain sawing a path out, everyone knew we had to work together to begin making a bad situation a little better.
Finally, we were able to leave what, at the time, I thought I never wanted to come back to. As we were driving through Covington, the reality of it struck me. This wasn’t a nightmare. I was living through an event I never thought I would be experiencing. At the time, I didn’t think things could ever be as beautiful as they were before. As we drove off to Texas, I tried to write something about our loss, but I realized that I couldn’t write something when I didn’t yet know the ending.
We evacuated to Lovelady, Texas, a small east-Texas town that has a population of 608. My father’s company has a ranch there. Also at the ranch were two other families from Covington that had evacuated before the storm. Immediately, our mothers began looking into schools, not knowing how long we would be there. Within days, I began attending Lovelady Junior High.
While in Lovelady, I had one of the best experiences of my life. I was overwhelmed by everyone from this small town being so generous, kind and eager to help.
My last day at Lovelady Junior High before returning to Covington was the day of the homecoming game. I got to repay my new friends by showing my school spirit. Our families went to the football game wearing our Lovelady T-shirts. We sat there in the stands like any other Lovelady Lion, cheered for our team, and watched the homecoming queen be crowned. As I sat there, a thought occurred to me. Even in the most difficult times, life goes on, and by becoming a part of another community, even for just two weeks, I began to see that.
The day we drove home, we didn’t know to what we were going back. Nine hours later, we learned that the devastation we ran from was still there to greet us, but something new was born, too: a new relationship between those of us on our little street and the rest of America. Crews of men from all over the country were working 24/7 to clear debris, restore services and otherwise return us to some normalcy: a great group of FEMA workers from Sawyers Mill, Tennessee and loggers from Pineville, Louisiana and another small town in Georgia. All small towns, just like Lovelady and Covington, and all so eager to help. All the inhabitants of our street took turns feeding these guys in appreciation for their efforts. After three weeks of eating and laughing together, we bonded and learned from this experience that, even though we lost something we loved, we gained a friendship with the rest of our country that will last a lifetime.
|
Home | Advertising Information | Archive of Past Issues | Contact Us
