Nine Years After the Storm

I always remind myself that I have never been to a war zone.

This summer will mark the ninth anniversary of Katrina.  Here along the Mississippi Gulf Coast, the waves rose up to 30 feet and the tidal surge was 12 feet. Structures that had survived 150 years couldn’t withstand the pressure, and hundreds of people died.

Driving along Highway 90 — the beach road, as it were — remains a surreal experience.  Yes, the place is neat and tidy.  Trees have had their limbs pruned and are once again full and green.  The city smartly turned loose the chainsaw artists on those trees that didn’t make it; rather than  fallen stumps there is weird chainsaw art along the road.  The casinos are back in business — they represent corporate money —  and there are a few other stores and businesses.

The Waffle House franchise famously rebuilt its restaurants with remarkable speed, and as a result gained an even greater following than it had before the storm.  WH may not be upscale, but it is the place to go for grits, and since we didn’t have much time this trip, Frank and I indulged and I did my darndest.  (Maybe it’s the water.  Grits made up north just don’t taste the same.) Despite these small cultural indulgences, it’s hard to get away from the reality that Highway 90 runs past scores and scores of empty lots on what was once the most expensive land in the city.

For the most part, the grass is cut and the yards neat and trimmed (do you suppose there is a city ordinance enforcing neatness?).  But curb cuts lead to nothing, and concrete slabs stand empty.  I looked more closely, and realized that there are many, many “for sale by owner” signs along Highway 90,, and a remarkable number of historical markers announcing the “John Parker Stevens” (or whoever) house, even though the house no longer exists.  Only Beauvoir, the Jefferson Davis home, has been rebuilt and is once again open to the public.

And yet life goes on.  Children for whom Katrina is only a story their parents tell play in the hotel pool.  The beach is beautiful.  The seafood is good.  It’s only the holes where homes used to be and people used to live that tel the story.