Six Months Ago

Six months ago today, I was celebrating my birthday. It was one of those magical days that leave an imprint in your memory that causes the edges of you mouth to curl up and your brow to soften when you think of it. I asked for one thing and one thing only. I wanted to attend a formal tea with my beautiful family at the Regency Room in The Williamsburg Inn. The Williamsburg Inn is a stunning hotel set in Colonial Williamsburg. It has a grand circular driveway flanked by magnolia trees and brightly blooming azeleas. Two smartly dressed doormen stand ready to sweep open the doors and usher you into the lobby decorated with fine antiques in rich, warm colors. Beyond the lobby, the back patio opens to views of lawn bowlers dressed all in crisp white, stately elms, more magnolias, a golf course flanked by duck ponds, gazebo's and a landscaped dotted by the colorful azeleas. It really feels like you are walking into another time where slow Southern genteel ways are the norm.
Ever since my husband, Harold, made Chief, I eagerly awaited the day when he would purchase and wear the Navy choker white uniform, only worn by officers and senior enlisted personnel. I knew that at 6 feet tall and slender, he would be a vision. Unfortunately, it is not a required uniform and is also rather expensive so I had come to believe that I would never have the chance to see him in choker whites.
Well, as I got ready to go to our tea at the Williamsburg Inn, Harold called out as he entered our bedroom and said "I could wear my suit,..... or this? What do you think?" and there he stood absolutely resplendent in his choker whites! WOW! He looked more amazing that I had even imagined!
Harold, Madeline (our 6 year old), and I arrived at the Williamsburg Inn and strolled the grounds among the lush lawn and blooming flowers before the tea room opened. It was a beautiful clear day and felt perfect as it could be. Once we were seated for tea, we waited for our oldest daughter, Riley to arrive from work. The harpist, Marion Harding, came over and was so enamored with Harold in his uniform. She asked many questions about his service, his medals, and about what brought us to the Inn that day. Marion was as sweet as could been when she was overcome with emotion, pride, and patriotism when talking to us. She was so honored to have a military family there that she asked us to be her guests for the tea! As Marion sat at her harp, she began with God Bless America followed by Anchor's Aweigh. Then when Riley arrived about 10 minutes later, she walked in the tea room with beautiful hydrangeas for me and Marion broke right into Happy Birthday and everyone in the room sang to me! WOW! It just doesn't get any better than that! My two beautiful daughters, a gorgeous adoring husband, and such a perfect memory.
We left the Inn that afternoon and felt like I was walking on a cloud. We sat watching TV with the reports that we coming in about the pending impact of Katrina and I called San Antonio to see if my sister, Rhoda, had safely made her flight out of New Orleans. She told me that two of her adult children, Jon & Lauren had evacuated but that Genevieve had stayed behind a Turou Infirmary to care for her boyfriend who was hospitalized. I wasn't happy to hear that but thought that if she would be safe anywhere, that would be the best place for her her.
I went to sleep that night, smiling at the precious memories created that day with a slight, but not overwhelming, concern about Hurricane Katrina churning in the Gulf of Mexico. Six months ago, it seems like the last night of innocence. Little did I know that the next week would be hell for our family and millions more who would be dragged into the pit of dispair as they struggled to survive Hurricane Katrina and the aftermath. Life can change on a dime.

A Waveland Memory

It has been 4 weeks since I left Waveland and many of the memories live in my mind as if it were just yesterday. I keep track of the progress on the MSNBC-Rising From The Ruins site and also the Sun Herald. It is so hard to tell from a distance if the progress is significant or it is still a daily struggle for those in the area.
One story that I heard while in Waveland weighs heavily on my heart. Loretta Thomas is a secretary at Waveland Elementary. Like so many families in the area, not only did she lose her home but her parents lost theirs as well. She told me that her father and mother were both very poor growing up and did not finish high school, both quitting at the age of 14 to go work. Her dad went back and got his GED and spent his whole life as a house painter. He always managed to provide for his family and when he had enough, he bought a small home for them. While working at many new home construction sites, they would always have leftover materials which he would ask if he could take with him. As the materials came together, he would build another room onto their small home to make his family more comfortable. The home was still standing but has had to be gutted. Speaking softly, Loretta told me "It was like looking into his soul when they tore out the walls". I sat quietly as she described how she and her husband moved her parents into the small FEMA trailer with them so that they could care for her dad. "He has alzheimer's and cancer" she explained. "He knows he is dying and wants nothing more than to die in the front room of the home he built..... but we don't have the money to rebuild and the SBA hasn't come through with a check yet." I couldn't believe how heartbreaking her story was. For several days I had passed her smiling face and cheerful greetings with no clue to the anguish she was expereincing. It made me wonder how many other stories like this were hidden behind the every day masks of the people all along the Gulf Coast affected by Hurricane Katrina. I realized as I sat there that this is the real face of this disaster and the unfortunate truth is that even in this small town, Loretta's story is a common one. Maybe they don't have an elderly parent with a terminal illness, but there is another hardship involved. Maybe they are handicapped living in a FEMA trailer, maybe they lost their life long partner to the storm surge, maybe they were just beginning to live out their golden years in a house that was bought and paid for and had minimal insurance, now it's gone. So many stories, all so sad. I really believe that what will sustain our neighbors in need is the compassion, assistance, and support of those of us outside the area. We really need to keep a spotlight on the Gulf Coast to help them recover and the only way to make that happen is through word of mouth. The media's nortoriusly short attention span has run it's course so many people believe that everything is OK. I know that it is draining to be reminded of the hardships that are faced by those in Louisiana, Mississippi, & Alabama but our country has never faced a disaster of this magnitude and the needs will continue for quite a while now. So next time you are feeling stressed or overwhelmed and believe you can't give another dime or ounce of energy.... think about Loretta and the thousands of others like her, who's daily routine is filled with enough burden and hardship to last a lifetime.