Hurricane Katrina
Photos & Reports
Tom and Marty's Ocean
Spring's home before Katrina
Tom and Marty's Ocean
Spring's home after Katrina.
Broad Ave. at the Coast
Hwy, formerly a major, developed intersection; now there is
nothing to identify it, except part of the broken sign, on the
ground.
This was a residential street in Long Beach.
5th and Burke in Long Beach. Nothing remained except wrecked cars
and boats.
There was a dead sea lion in the bed of one wrecked pickup nearby.
Flags appeared everywhere, sometimes just tied or tacked to the
wreckage.
There were homes here (note yard figures and other trinkets on
the front
steps in the near background. In the far background is all that
remains of
K-Mart in Long Beach.
The Army checkpoint on Jeff Davis Blvd in Long Beach. We thanked
(and fed)
the soldiers who kept others out and let us in, and they appreciated
us.
Long Beach south of the railroad; this one speaks for itself.
As the weather cooled Sunflowers came up and bloomed everywhere
in Long Beach.
They were probably from K-Mart birdseed, but we took them as a
bright promise
from God that somehow all would be well.
Long Beach. Gradually, small treasures that survived the storm
were picked up and
placed on the nearest slab or surviving steps. People honored
the probable
possessions of others.
What remains of the 1st Baptist Church in Long Beach.
The dive
shop in Long Beach. "We'll be back--God bless the USA"
express the attitude
of the people on the Mississippi Gulf Coast.
A
heart-wrenching attempt to locate a loved one; other crude signs
like this,
made on wreckage plywood or cardboard, appeared in the silent
wreckage.
More than 3,000 died.
Greg
Porter’s feeding tent and supply distribution point, on the
beach
in Pass Christian. The first night, in early September, with his
grill brought
from his Evansville, Ind. home, he made and gave away 32 hamburgers.
It has grown to this, where he and many volunteers now feed 2,500
meals a day
and conduct a worship service every night.
See the article on this miracle in our Nov/Dec/Jan Newsletter.
Greg
Porter, the man who believed he heard God say to him “Go
to the coast
and feed people.” He was obedient, and God performed the
miracle.
The
railroad in Pass Christian, looking east, a wrecked school bus
in the background.
What
remains of the Father Ryan House in Biloxi, a beautiful old home
that had
withstood every hurricane for the last 140 years. Tom stayed in
this house during
Hurricane Georges. No one was in it when Katrina struck, thank
God.
This was the Sea Shore Methodist Mission and Church, where people
from our church,
and others, fed the homeless. Nothing remains but the sign.
A street scene in East Biloxi, near the mission.
All that remains of the Seafood Industry Museum on Point Cadet,
East Biloxi; this was a great loss.
Tom's daughter, Susan, with a bewildering pile
of rubble and injured cars
at her house in Ocean Springs.
Shattered and uprooted trees at his daughter, Melissa's, house,
one of the few still standing south of the railroad in Long Beach.
The rapid oxidation of iron and steel was unbelievable. This is
one of Tom's pistols, found among
the rubble where Tom & Marty's house had been, literally caked
with rust,
only 5 days after being under sea water and then exposed to the
air.
It looked as if it had been dug up from a Civil War battlefield,
or brought
up from the Titanic.
There is not a shiny steel rail on the Gulf Coast; they are all
bright orange from the instant
oxidation. This scene is in Long Beach, just north of Melissa's
house.
The generalized wreckage and the oxidation on the rails are from
wind and
wind-borne sea water; the tidal surge didn't quite reach this
far here
(it got over the railroad levee in other places).
One of Tom's boxed medals, encased in mud and sand, found near
where his house had been. Somehow, in a way that he can't put
in words,
he believes that this one artifact speaks volumes about all that
happened there.
The "Broken Pieces" stained glass
original, miraculously preserved and
still caked with sand and mud. To comfort Tom, his granddaughter
Katie at Ole Miss sent a message to the coast: "Tell Granddaddy
that God
makes beautiful things out of broken pieces." She didn't
know that the
stained glass original had been found, completely undamaged.
Bell South
set up free telephone service, up and down the coast.
This one is in Pass Christian.
Tent
Camp Christmas, Pass Christian (note the leaning tree).
Downtown
Pass Christian. The brown trailer is the bank.
Crossing
Point at Dusk, Railroad Street, Long
Beach. Note the soldiers' small Christmas Tree.
All
that remains of a beautiful beach front home in Gulfport is its
address and the name of the family, spray-painted on the lawn
retaining wall. The owner has renamed the Coast Highway,
"Highway of Hope." This is a fitting place to stop.
Hurricanes
Katrina & Rita Bulletin from Tom:
KATRINA CHRISTMAS ON THE COAST-
December 26, 2005
Christmas Eve.
There was a candlelight service at our church in Ocean Springs
last night, but I couldn't get there. I worked all day and into
the night on my book, doing the final polishing of the revised
manuscript before sending it back to the publisher. The noises
on the roof were not reindeer--they were workers, trying to finish
the roof before going back to Nashville. The rain poured down.
Very tired, and a little sick, I was preparing for bed when there
was an explosion nearby, and electricity was lost. Another transformer
blew. No problem here--the candles are always at the ready. I
felt for the matches, fired one up, put it in the bathroom and
went to bed; but first I prayed for the safety of the line repair
crew, out there in the dark, trying to find the problem spot and
repair it. The electricity came back on about 1:00 AM; sudden
lights I forgot to turn off and a blinking clock held reveille
on me. So much for Christmas Eve.
Christmas Day.
This morning we had an early service at the church in Ocean Springs
(an hour each way with the bridge out). The pastor asked us to
share one blessing from the past year; I said it is the way Christians
from all over the nation have come here to help, and continue
to come. Every thing I was wearing (except for my work boots)
has been given to me by various people I will never meet and never
be able to thank, unless we meet in Heaven. We are enormously
blessed here, and are so very aware of it every day. I wish they
could all know how much it all means to us.
As the setting sun turned the western
sky orange, and the Gulf became that opalescent blend of colors
so beautiful at that time of day, I had Christmas dinner with
an interesting variety of people at Greg Porter's feeding station
on the beach. Most of his workers today are volunteers from Michigan.
That thing is a huge miracle that just keeps growing. They are
now feeding more than 1,000 people, twice a day, and as it grows,
volunteers keep coming from all over the country to help. If you
haven't done so, read the article about it in my current newsletter.
This will be the last Hurricane
Katrina bulletin; but I hope, very soon, to be able to get selected
photos up on the web site.
Oh, one last thing. Operation Blessing
(Pat Robertson), working with Nazarene Disaster Relief and one
other group, brought blessing boxes to us here. Each box included
canned food, bread, a desert box of some kind, an encouraging
book about hope, and 3 small stuffed toys. Those of you who know
me well will get a laugh out of the toys in my blessing box: a
stuffed Santa, a stuffed reindeer, and a snowman! If they only
knew!
May you all have a blessed Christmas
and new year, is my prayer. We are enormously blessed here!
Tom
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hurricane
Aftermath Update, Ocean Springs 27
November 2005
THANKSGIVING ON THE COAST.
Thanksgiving on the ravaged Mississippi
Gulf Coast was, and is, fascinating. If I had to describe it in
one word it would be "thankful"; if I could use 2 words
they would be "peacefully thankful." There were no complaints
about what the people don't have, or what they have lost forever;
it was as if there was a mass rising above it all, in quiet, heartfelt,
thanksgiving to God and to all the disaster workers and volunteer
teams who have done so much for us, and go on doing it. We have
so very much here to be thankful for! Some people are back in
their homes, at least partially, and many are still in tent camps,
FEMA trailers and shelters. It is a wierd mixture of "normal"
and extremely abnormal living, but no one is going without basic
needs. I am now staying in Long Beach with my daughter Melissa;
we still can't drink the water, and must show passes to get through
the Army crossing points (Melissa's house, though badly damaged,
is one of the few still standing south of the railroad); but,
compared with many, we have it made. And the cooler weather has
been a blessing!
Friends from Nashville are here, making extensive repairs to Melissa's
house. My daughter Susan's house was flooded, ruining all furniture,
carpets, books, photos, etc, and the house had to be gutted to
the studs and joists. A team of Christians from Murfreesboro,
Tenn. was here last week and, among other things they helped with
Susan's sheet rock. Now a college friend from Georgia is here
to help Susan paint the walls that are finished. A team of college
students from Minnesota has been here for the past week, sleeping
in a FEMA camp on the Navy Base, and working heroically with the
cleanup where our house and Jeff's were, dragging wreckage out
of the woods to collecting points. Volunteers, mostly Christian
groups, continue to come from all over the country to help, convoys
of supply trucks and FEMA trailers continue to arrive, police
and fire units from all over the country continue with us, missing
Thanksgiving with their families; and so it has continued here.
It is a strange thing to say about a place where so many died,
and so many more lost everything they had, but in some ways the
entire experience has been positive for me in that I have seen
Americans come together, selflessly going to one another's aid,
in ways possible only in terrible times.
One extremely interesting thing is the way it has stirred people's
patriotism. Almost immediately, tattered flags were flying from
the rubble, from broken trees, bent signposts and some were just
tied across piles of rubble. We found both the American flag and
the POW flag that were on our house when the storm took it away;
they are torn and faded, but they are flying proudly out there.
As businesses try to get back to normal operation there is still
a critical shortage of workers, and "Help Wanted," and
"We Are Hiring" signs are prominent outside many businesses.
Burger King in Ocean Springs is not only offring jobs, but also
bonuses for hiring on. One common problem is in the air. There
is so much fine dust in the air, plus molds, and irritants from
insulation and burning materials that we suffer from a lot of
eye irritation and we cough and sneeze a lot. I heard from "the
outside" that it is being discussed in the media as "Katrina
Cough."
You have heard me say so many times that it has been mostly the
Christians coming to our aid from the start. Thanksgiving here
is no different. Southern Baptist volunteers in Biloxi gave away
17,000 turkeys; but it wasn't just a Baptist operation--more than
200 Christian groups contributed. One man in Virginia gave $75,000,
and his church gave another $25,000 for the turkey project. A
charismatic church on 28th St. in Long Beach served turkey dinners
to all who came, after advertising in advance (I don't know the
numbers, but they were many, especially from a nearby housing
project). And Greg from Evansville, Ind., at his growing feeding
point on the beach, fed more than 1,000 meals at noon, and again
at supper time. And, I assure you, those soldiers who are helping
us, far from their home, are not going hungry--they are lacking
no good thing--especially this weekend.
Isn't it interesting that there has been no help from the ACLU,
American Atheists, NOW, Americans United for Separation of Church
and State, Planned Parenthood or the homosexual groups. NOT ANY.
Think on that.
This will probably be my final report; but I hope to find a way
to get representative photos on the web site very soon.
God bless you all, for all you do!
Tom
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hurricane
Aftermath Update, Ocean Springs 27
October 2005
Friends,
I am back on the Gulf Coast after 2 weeks away, and things continue
to change—albeit slowly.
Physically, I am healing—trouble now only with one hand and
one shoulder. Emotionally, there is a lingering sadness that underlies
each day, because of the vastness of the destruction; although
I have been living in it for 7 weeks, the sights impact on me
afresh every day. Along the beaches and bayous there is just utter
obliteration—as in scenes of Hiroshima, and the farther west,
the farther inland it reaches. I was in Pass Christian yesterday,
and the cluttered emptiness goes for ½ mile inland. Here,
at the east end of the beach, the surreal devastation reaches
in for several blocks. The Methodist Seashore Mission, where good
people from our church have fed so many homeless people, is gone—simply
gone; there is nothing left but the sign and a rubble-strewn parking
lot. Some of those homeless people died in the storm; we will
never know which ones, for the rest have vanished.
Clearing away of wreckage goes on continuously, as bulldozers
scrape, track hoes lift, and huge trucks haul away all that remains
of people’s homes, neighborhoods and past lives, leaving
only memories. I-10 is still littered with rubble (first things
must be done first), but traffic flows normally. Most roads and
streets are cleared, although some here still have houses blocking
them, floated off their foundations and driven crazily by the
wind.
Power line crews from all over continue to work, and electricity
is restored to most areas, although some shelters, tent camps
and ad-hoc trailer camps are using generators (or doing without).
Telephone service is still spotty and troublesome, even with cell
phones. Bell South still operates free telephone banks on roadsides.
My only e-mail contact with the outside world remains via the
computers at the public library. Police teams from all over the
nation continue to work here; in the library parking lot, I am
parked next to a police car from Fairfax County, Virginia.
Some shelters and distribution points for essentials are closing—not
all. Our primary source still provides water (still a precious
item) and other necessities. Showers are still provided free by
the YMCA (God bless them!). Stores are reopening, but with limited
stocks and partially empty shelves; the same is true of the commissary
at Keesler AFB, which is operating temporarily in the NCO Club.
Christians (churches, ministries and individuals) continue to
provide most of the services here. Yesterday, in demolished Point
Cadet, I passed a group in a prayer circle in the street; they
all wore yellow caps and tee shirts which said something like
“Disaster Relief, Kentucky”; I turned around to go back
and thank them, but they had already disappeared—scattered
to their work. There is an amazing Christian named Greg from Indiana,
who came immediately after the storm, intending to cook and feed
people; he set up on the beach in Pass Christian, and now feeds
hundreds every day, at his own expense (about $1000 daily). I
intend to write an article about him in the next newsletter. Last
weekend we had a large group of college kids from LeTourneau Univ.
here to help; they were wonderful! My group got more done at our
place (which we now call “Ground Zero”) in 2 days than
I could have done alone in a month. Then we took them to the home
of an elderly widow whose house and truck were smothered in downed
trees; in no time, they had the trees cut up, removed (along with
other debris), and her truck freed, virtually unharmed. The afternoon
they left, they finished all assignments and then went from house
to house, removing wreckage, pulling out soggy sheet rock, etc,
and then drove all night to get back to Texas.
One transcendent problem here about which you probably haven’t
heard is depopulation; many people have simply left, and aren’t
coming back. One reason that businesses are slow to reopen is
shortage of workers; everywhere there are signs saying, “Help
Wanted,” or “Now Hiring.” WalMart is open only
during certain hours, and lines are long, because they have lost
so many employees, and are working with trainees. UPS is swamped;
they have big trucks at the terminal that they haven’t had
time to unload, and deliveries are 10 days behind. The Ocean Springs
schools reopened with 1,200 fewer children than were enrolled
when Katrina hit. In Pass Christian (where they seldom won football
games before the storm) the team has dropped from 60 players to
20. They are playing in equipment borrowed from other schools,
all games are away, and they are playing courageously on, getting
clobbered.
An amazing thing here is that the ravaged trees and shrubs that
lived through the storm, stripped of their leaves, are putting
out vigorous new growth, and blooming. It is truly Springtime
in October! The Bradford Pears that survived went into full bloom;
yesterday, my daughter Melissa brought in a beautiful and fragrant
gardenia blossom. This seems to be a marvelous biochemical reaction,
built into the DNA of the woody plants by their Creator, designed
to preserve them for another year. In all my long life, much of
it spent outdoors, I have never seen anything like it. Perhaps
there is a lesson in it for us—one of abiding hope and God’s
provision for all our needs.
Thanks for caring and praying,
Tom
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Hurricane
Aftermath Update, 6 Oct 2005
Dear ones,
Salvage operations here are at a point where I can leave them
for a while; I am leaving tomorrow for South Carolina, Tennessee
and Kentucky to attend to other responsibilities. As I gear up
to leave, I will attempt to describe the situation here now.
The clean-up and rebuilding will be going on for a very long time,
but is going every day.Some businesses are back in operation,
even if not fully. Schools are now open again on the coast,but
many are in strange places, making do.
We still have police units and repair teams from all over the
country, and the military units come and go as replaced. We still
wave at them and thank them as we pass. My heart was warmed to
see a crude sign, made as usual on plywood from the wreckage,
left by an Army unit that rotated out and was replaced; it said,
"Thank you Mississippi,for your hospitality--we weill miss
you," and the unit designation was written across the bottom.
We are also seeing more and more cars with expressions of thanks
to those who have come to help us, painted on the windows; and
the state has put banners on I-10 overpasses, saying "Mississippi
thanks Y'all!"
Almost as soon as people found a way to go on with life here,
crude signs began to appear, anouncing willingness to remove trees,
clear wreckage, repair roofs, clean out wet sheet rock, etc. Signs
were crude, on scavenged cardboard or plywood. There was one saying,
"Sonic is Open," spray-painted on someone's door that
blew by. It was the free enterprise system at its best. Now, as
the sign-making businesses are getting back in operation, the
signs are becoming more professional.
One thing we have never had on the coast is flies--at least not
many; but now they are everywhere! Perhaps it is the presence
of corpses,animal and human, and so much spoiled food. Speaking
of corpses, they are still being discovered; I was in Gulfport/Long
Beach 2 days ago, and the smell was strong as far from the beach
as Railroad Street.
FEMA is moving some of its emergency services inland now; they
have done an excellent job here, and continue to. Bell South has
erected free outdoor telephone banks up and down the coast. Distribution
points continue to operate here, providing free ice,water, bleach
and clothing. The one we go to is operated by a gathering of local
churches. Christian groups continue to arrive,asking what they
can do to help.
I crossed the railroad a few days ago, noticed that the rails
are still bright orange from rust, and wondered why the trains
aren't polishing them. Then, of course, I remembered that there
aren't any trains--because there aren't any bridges! It will be
a long time before the trains run again on the coast.
Finally, I want to say that people here are appreciative of the
president and his leadership; I have heard NO complaints or criticism
of him, or the performance of the federal, state and local governments
(except that there are bitter complaints about the Long Beach
mayor and police--there are always exceptions). Yet I hear that
all people are seeing on TV is the opposite, especially constant,
shrill criticism of the president.
As I close this and prepare to hit the road, I ask that any of
you whom I have given copies of photos that I had before the hurricane,
please consider having copies made and sending them to me at the
office (PO Box 413, Marion, KY 42064). Office Depot,Office Max,
or Kinko's will make excellent copies for very little, several
normal photos can be included in one sheet, and I will gladly
repay for all costs as I begin to reclaim my life. Another excellent
way is to scan them into a computerand send them via e-mail.
I may post more updates, but for now I will only say "Thank
you!, and God bless you all!"
Tom
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hurricane Aftermath Update, 24 Sept 2005
Friends,
Again, I am writing from a computer in the storm-damaged public
library in Ocean Springs--my second such experience.
The
second hurricane (Rita, I believe she is called) blessed us with
her fringes yesterday, sending intermittent gail winds and sheets
of driving rain which made the muddy, difficult work of wreckage
removal even more muddy and difficult. Adding to the mix are biting
flies of some kind, blown in by Katrina from the off-shore islands.
A greater problem is that Rita again pushed the ocean in on us,
re-flooding the low areas where we are working. A wrecked sewer
pumping station has flooded our bayou, making working in and around
it more unpleasant. I find baby clothes twisted in wreckage and
wrapped around tree limbs--and I wonder. Actually, the rain (the
first since the hurricane) is a God-send for salt-soaked and Sun-baked
plants, but there are few un-mixed blessings.
Our little part of the second hurricane lasted through the night,
and electricity was again lost. Awake at 0430, the power was back
on and I made a pot of coffee just before it went off to stay.
Is God good, or what? A fresh pot of coffee to launch the dark
new, day. No fans, no air-conditioner; just wind, rain and silence.
I had a long time to think--and pray--and think.
I thought of the linemen, somewhere between here and Texas, who
were out in the weather and the danger, trying to get the power
back on. I prayed that none would be killed or wounded, risking
their life and limb to make me more comfortable. Occasionally
the black silence was broken by sirens and horns of emergency
vehicles, out there somewhere, doing I wondered what. I thought
of my friend, Rita Sonnier and her family in Iowa, La. and prayed
for them; they were right in the bullseye of this one, near the
Texas border. Just a few weeks ago, I was with them in their home,
enjoying the Cajun cooking. I tried to think of useful things
I could do in complete darkness (the storm shut out moon and stars):
I could wash some fruit; I could wash and put away (VERY carefully)
some dishes by feel; and that's about all. My battered watch and
wrist compass glowed, but accomplished little else. I thought
about the chemistry of night vision and pondered the "retinene/rhodopsin
shift" and decided not to look at my watch anymore.
Dawn came, finally, reluctant, gray and dark--broken clouds admitting
it a little piece at a time, and I thought about the fact that
dawn always comes--eventually. That's true of all of life's dark
nights, isn't it? Eventually, the dawn does come. Sometimes it
comes slowly, incrementally, a reluctant, dingy gray at first;
and sometimes it bursts forth in glory like an overture to a symphony.
But it always comes. This is a lesson in life.
THANKS FOR CARING AND FOR PRAYING,
Tom
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hurricane Aftermath Update, 23 Sept 2005
Ocean Springs, Miss.
Friends,
It is Friday afternoon, I am very tired and still aching in most
parts of this worn-out body, but I want to get an update situation
report for those of you who care. I of course have no computer
here (nor a house to put one in); I am writing from a computer
in the public library, something I have never done before.
Susan and her family are in a small cottage generously donated
by a friend, and I have made a nest with them. Yes, with 2 bedrooms,
one bathroom, and 6 of us, we do step over one another at times;
but it's almost unthinkable luxury here. Electricity is somewhat
intermittant, but we are sleeping comfortably most nights (I won't
speak for my granddaughters who sleep on the floor--by rank and
antiquity I now have a bed).
Most services are restored; WalMart and some groceries are open
on restricted hours. The food and water distribution centers are
going strong; the one we rely on most for water, ice, chlorine
bleach, etc. is run by local churches, working together. The ice
we are now getting is trucked all the way from Canada.
Three shelters have been operating from the beginning: a Methodist
church, a Lutheran church, and the middle school. Local church
and school leaders operated the shelters at first, but are now
manned by the Red Cross. The middle school is now closed, trying
to get a new school year going.
One story will give you the idea: when the middle school first
opened as a shelter, people flooded in. There were more than 300
refugees (and they had no social activists telling people that
word is an insult--hey--what else are people who are taking refuge?),
completely non-organized and unprepared, some were alzheimer's
patients, several were babies less than 5 days old, one of these
with a tracheostomy. Needless to say, it was chaotic. When the
Red Cross workers arrived to take over, the school superintendant
wept in relief.
One awesome thing about all this is that there are so many people
here from so many places, just to help. I see State Police from
Indiana and Alabama (and there are others), plus the electric
power crews from coast to coast. Some traffic lights have been
reinstalled, but many haven't, and people continue to be thoughtful
and careful at intersections. The YMCA provides showers to all
comers, 24 hours a day.
The clean-up, salvage work goes on, hot, dirty and often wet.
We have help from a North Carolina ministry (New Directions),
friends, neighbors and two young men (Marine veterans) who came
from Wyoming and Oklahoma ("God just told us to come help");
we'd be lost without them.
Today the rain from the new hurricane began, making the heavy,
hard work more difficult. The sea is rising here, and the low
areas are beginning to flood again (we are now racing the rising
water in the bayou).
God
continues to startle us with little treasures, discovered unharmed,
and others, damaged but with hope.
This is far from what it should be, but the library is closing
and I must close. Thanks for caring, and for praying.
Tom
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hurricane
Aftermath Update, 16 Sept 2005
Dear
friends,
Please forgive the silence from me. I have just returned from
the Gulf Coast of Mississippi, somewhat the worse for wear. The
good news is that none of the family was injured or killed, thanks
be to God!
I am somewhat injured from a very bad fall in the wreckage, but
will heal. Both arms and hands are dinged, making typing very
slow, but God is healing me as I write this (isn't that good to
know?!? Is He good, or what?!?) Our house is gone; Jeff's is gone.
My daughter Susan's house was flooded, and will probably be condemned
and demolished. My daughter Melissa's home is badly damaged, but
standing; it may be demolished. For those of you who know the
Tanners in Pass Christian, their house is largely undamaged, but
Ouida's art studio was flooded, and 12 bodies were found in a
pool behind their house.
The devastation is indescribable--at least for me. I continue
to be unable to express adequately how it is; the only words that
focus in my weary brain are "catastrophic," "devastation,"
and "unreal." It is particularly unreal where our home
was (it is as if it had never existed), for I couldn't find a
point of reference that I could recognize; my brain would not
accept that this was our home). Our house and Jeff's (my missionary
son) were on a wooded peninsula in a coastal forest; the forest
looks like a war was fought over it; what remains of it is tangled
with wreckage from other people's houses and other flotsam from
the sea.
The people on the Miss coast have reacted wonderfully--98% of
those I saw were being thoughtful with one another, trying to
help one another, and survive. It is NOTHING like the situation
in New Orleans, where black gangs and individual thugs raped and
pillaged--and I do mean raped--in the Superdome, at gun and knife
point, in front of the families. There has been ongoing WAR between
them and the police and our troops.
We have had police, firemen and other emergency workers from all
over the country. Police from Pensacola came by the other night
just to ask if we were alright, and if we needed anything. They
went somewhere and brought back ice. The National Guard, Seabees
and soldiers have been great--hot and bored much of the time.
Looting? Some, but at least one gang was caught in the act, and
was from Jacksonville, FL, having come over for that purpose.
The curfew is strictly enforced, and that is good. The group I
NEVER saw was the Red Cross, although they seem to be the group
promoted on TV. The ones doing the heroic work in Miss were the
Salvation Army and Baptist groups from Ky and Tenn; there was
also Operation Blessing (CBN). Individual church groups were everywhere.
In short, the Red Cross seems to get the credit and the money,
but it is the Christians doing the work. God bless them!
I
will be going back in a day or two to help the children and see
what else I can salvage in the woods. But let me tell you one
story. The original stained glass piece, from which we made the
"God Makes Beautiful Things out of Broken Pieces" prints,
hung in my study window in Ocean Springs. When the house was torn
away, it fell, about 15 feet, hung in a bush; then the stained
glass piece itself fell out of the frame, another 6 or 8 feet
to the ground. My granddaughter found it, under an 8X8 timber
that probably weighs 400 pounds, COMPLETELY UNHARMED!
Again, please forgive the silence; until the last few days, even
cell phones didn't work there, and our office hasn't been fully
manned because my secretary's brother died in Indiana. And a special
thanks to Bill Lee, our web master, who has been waiting in his
office in Virginia for about 6 hours to get this from me and put
it up on the web site.
Thanks for caring, and thanks for praying!
Tom