The Last Hurricane

My Real Husband died in late 2004, at home, in a hurricane. It was the middle of three major hurricanes in a row that visited my city. Prior to that it had been over 30 years since this area had seen one.

The next year Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. We were vicariously re- traumatized.

A week or so later I received a call. A family of five had fled New Orleans and was in our city. Would I coordinate helping them get on their feet?

They had nothing. Just prior to the hurricane they'd taken one of the children (with a high temperature) to the hospital. The doctors there told them to get out of town immediately. They ran home and packed an overnight bag. The five of them drove 100 miles to a motel to ride out the storm.

They never returned. Their home, their business and all of their belongings were gone. Their income was gone.

The only thing I can compare what happened to the people in New Orleans to, is being war refugees.

I interviewed this family. It was heartbreaking. They were staying with a friend it very tight quarters.

I got on the phone with my church friends. Within 48 HOURS we had a home (rent free for 3 months) and enough furniture and supplies for them to move in.

These wonderful friends, mostly from my Sunday school class, eventually furnished the whole house. Including linens, dishes, pot & pans, etc. Everything. And we let the family know that these things belonged to them. They could keep everything but the house.

They were overwhelmed. Working with this family was a joy. Mom found a job teaching. Dad was a barber. It took longer to get licensing issues squared away.

The children were enrolled in school. The little boy adjusted. The teenage girls were devastated and never did really get over it.

They cried themselves to sleep and begged their parents to let them go back, visit their neighborhood and go to the mall with their friends just one more time. But there was no neighborhood, no mall and no friends left to visit.

A few months later dad made a trip back to survey the damage. The girls asked to have one thing from their rooms. There was nothing. What was left of the house was awash in filth and bacteria.

Months later, when they were ready to rent their own home they moved into my friend's condo. He told me they were great tenants.

Yesterday I called my friend, the landlord, to check up on my New Orleans friends before giving them a call.

He said they were gone. They went back home to New Orleans to rebuild.

I wish you well, my New Orleans Family. You helped us heal from our own hurricane wounds just as we helped you.