MPHS: Hurrican Katrina, 2005, by Jeremy Loris

From MemoryArchive

Who: Jeremy Loris
What: Hurricane Katrina
When: August 29, 2005
Where: Moss Point, MS

Hurricane Katrina was one of the worst experiences of my life. My father woke me up on the morning of August 29, 2005, and the lights were flashing on and off. I asked him curiously, because I was still a little light-headed after waking up unexpectedly, if we had lost power yet. He replied with a no, and told me that the storm had been going on for two hours. I looked at the clock, which read at eight 'o clock. I was supposed to be at school fifteen minutes ago.

We headed up to the living room, and along the way, the power finally gave in. When we got into the living room, I saw my mamal, my mother, my brother, my two aunts, and my father. There was an inflatable mattress spread across the living room floor from where my father had slept the night before. My father opened the door and told me to take a look. I went to the door and saw something I had never seen from so close up. I saw physical embodiments of gusts of wind and rain blowing leaves and debris everywhere. It gave a nice visual effect, and the gusts mixed with the rain kind of made it look silvery. We watched for a few more minutes before my father closed the door.

It became nine 'o clock, and the storm was still brewing. I had gathered my drawing supplies and layed down on the mattress to burn some time while the storm went on. It wasn't really the storm I was worried about; I knew God was watching over my family and protecting all of us. I was more worried about how the heat was becoming more and more unbearable every second. I had to put up my drawing supplies; I couldn't draw with so much sweat leaking from my hand.

It became ten 'o clock, and I looked out the window. The storm was still brewing, and it still had its silvery effect, which most likely meant that the storm was far from over. I looked at some of the trees that were in the surrounding area of my house. We had a nineteen-year-old cedar tree which had been slightly leaning since Hurricane George. It was planted among azaleas, but not for very long. In a few seconds, the gusts of wind broke its trunk, and it fell in a diagnal pattern, making a dent in the trunk of my mother's Mercury Sable, and making a huge crack in the windshield of my aunt's mini-van. My father became angry.

The storm ended around five 'o clock that day. Our landlord, Mr. Henry Womble, helped remove the cedar tree from our vehicles. We were without power until that Friday night, and until then we were running one living room lamp off of our landlord's generator, which we constantly had to go get more fuel for. We were luckier than others, getting our power back the Friday after the storm. However, my brother and I made this decision: although we were dealing with life, we never wanted to hear the name 'Katrina' again.