Preface
Our routine for hurricanes
has been the same for years now - my wife,
Jill, and I "evacuate"
from our home in Kenner, La. to Ocean Springs,
Ms. to ride out the storms with
my Mother-in-law Peggy Dessommes
and Aunt Gene who live next door to each other on Bowen Ave. in the
Historic District.
Although
the small wood frame house sits only a few blocks from the
Gulf, the land gradually rises to a height of 50 feet above sea level,
protecting it from the storm surge. This old house had weathered many
storms before, from Camille to Frederick to Elena. I personally had
watched the eye of Georges pass overhead and sweated out the near
miss
of Ivan the year before.
afternoon could we hear the hissss and were able to shut it down.
That night Katrina had scoured the
atmosphere so clear of humidity
and haze that one could see the Milky Way as clearly as if on a
mountaintop.
In the following days, it seemed
as if the hurricane had too swept my
life clear of the fog of stuff and routine, revealing a new vision of
what was relevant and valuable.
My
shrunken universe
now revolved around
what I could carry in
my pockets - my
flashlight, reading
glasses, and transistor
radio, which brought news
from my home in Kenner, to which
we would not return
for 1 month. There was
only one working TV in the neighborhood and we would all gather there at
night and
found each other to be
far more interesting than whatever show was on. Friendships were made that
would
not
otherwise have existed. We learned that hard work was indeed its own
reward and what a gift a cool drink of water was.
I
have photographed the Gulf Coast for over twenty years, first as an amateur
and then, since 1998, as a professional. My journey the morning after Katrina
began with the goal of revisiting all the locations I had shot before, from
the
Pascagoula river to Buccaneer State Park in Waveland.
I
soon became numb to the devastation, the shocking expanse and totality
too much to digest. Only when I returned to "The Camp" did I set the camera
aside and feel the emotional loss of so many others whose destroyed property
I had photographed.
The camp
was a hidden
spot on the Back Bay
owned by the Moran
family and where my
family had been frequent
guests. It had consisted
of a series of modest
structures, washed away
and rebuilt until finally
after Hurricane Elena in
1985 a hurricane- proof
lodge built of fragrant
cedar with a wraparound
porch and a high ceiling
from which hung elegant
fans. The living quarters
were raised ten feet on
thick pilings anchored to
a concrete slab. It was
here both
my wife and I
had celebrated our fortieth
birthdays, my brother-in-
law had been married , and
a generation had feasted
at the countless fish fries,
featuring
mullet netted by my Father-in-law Jack Dessommes and his best
friend Duncan Moran, both having passed on a decade ago. No
one had
imagined the 25 foot wall of water that
would sweep it all away,leaving only
a few pilings and two crumpled ceiling fans in the pine woods beyond. However,
the soul of this place, represented by a couple hundred feet of pier, still
remained.
Although
battered and warped, if one was careful you could still
check the crab traps, cast a net for shrimp and mullet, or try to
out - smart the huge flounder bedding just below.
While The Chateau worth hundreds of thousands of dollars
had disappeared in an instant, this
priceless pier and the Gulf it connected
us to was what would bring another generation back to this place, to rebuild
another camp so that they might stay overnight and pretend they never have
to leave.
So, too, I believe the essence of
the Mississippi Gulf Coast remains,
something of intrinsic value which will cause people to again risk their
fortunes to be a part of.
My hope for the people of Mississippi
is that these images of destruction
are now not as much a source of pain, but of pride in how far you have come
back after enduring so much.
My prayer for the entire Gulf Coast
region is that we will seize this opport-
unity to rebuild with all the wisdom of lessons learned.
I would like to thank the Harrison
County Tourism Commission, which gave
me the opportunity to create many of the before photos. Special thanks to
the
Dessommes family for giving me a second home on the Mississippi Gulf Coast,
and to my parents, Ohioans Alex Sr. and Janet,, who took us kids on long road
trips and taught us to appreciate what was passing by outside the windows.