Editor’s note: Mississippi Today Ideas is publishing guest essays from people impacted by Hurricane Katrina during the week of the 20th anniversary of the storm that hit the Mississippi Gulf Coast on Aug. 29, 2005.
Speaking about Hurricane Katrina feels almost like speaking at a funeral. There’s grief, memory and the weight of honoring both those who survived and those who did not. The storm was not just another hurricane. It was a turning point in countless lives, mine included.
The day before Katrina made landfall was a Sunday. I told my mother Lorna Rose Daniels to be ready at noon to evacuate our homes only blocks from the beach in Pass Christian. As we prepared to leave, my father Harold Thomas Daniels was busy moving vehicles out to my grandmother’s house in DeLisle.
Around noon, my mother, son and I left together. I told my son not to pack anything in the car because I was certain we would be back the next day. At that point, it felt like just another evacuation as we already had done several times that season. Tired of packing and unpacking the car, we left with only the clothes on our backs and a set of pajamas.
When I arrived at my mother’s house, she wanted to bring more things. I still clearly see her walking through her house with a bottle of holy water, sprinkling it in every room. “Mama, they said we have to go,” I told her.
She resisted, saying my father had not left yet. But I reminded her he was only shuttling cars to DeLisle. Finally, she came with me.
The plan was simple. We would drive up U.S. Highway 49 to Wiggins, stay with a friend and come back the next day like always. But as the day wore on, plans changed. By 4 that afternoon, while the northbound lanes of Highway 49 were jammed with evacuees, our car was the only one headed south.
My mother had broken down crying. She wanted to go to her elderly mother, who refused to leave her home. She couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her behind at her home in DeLisle about 10 miles from the Gulf of Mexico, but surrounded by water from the Bay of St. Louis.
That drive south is something I will never forget. Highway 49 north was bumper to bumper, but we were alone heading the other way. We turned onto state Highway 53 and stopped at a gas station. I remember buying milk for my son and a bag of ice, telling myself not to buy too much because we would be home the next day.
We made it to my grandmother’s house, the place we called “on the hill”. My grandmother was in her 90s, and my aunt lived nearby. Family began to gather, parking cars on the high ground. That night we sat on the back porch, talking in the heat of late August, waiting for my father to arrive. He never did.
The first sign of how dangerous this storm would be came from a phone call. My cousin in Henderson Point, which is located on the Gulf, called his mother, my aunt, as the water rose rapidly around his home. He had stayed behind with his dog while his family evacuated, believing the storm would not be that bad.
By the time my aunt handed me the phone, he was standing on top of his van, with his dog, crying, as the water climbed around him. I still remember my aunt’s voice as she handed me her cellphone, ‘Here, I can’t listen anymore,” she said. I stayed on the line until it went dead. We thought we would never see him again.
The next morning, Katrina revealed her strength. Tin peeled off my grandmother’s roof as we huddled on the porch. At first, we even tried to collect the flying sheets so they wouldn’t damage the cars, but soon we realized the danger was far greater than we understood. As the hours passed, we could hear the wind speaking to us – unimaginable devastation.
Then the word spread. Pass Christian was gone. Just 10 miles away, an entire community had been destroyed. News spread fast that those who stayed behind were gone.
My daddy, who stayed at our home on Davis Avenue, was not heard from… not my daddy! Harold Daniels stayed behind along with my two brothers and a nephew. Within 15 minutes of water rising, it had reached its peak of 34 feet. People were asking all over, You saw this one who stayed? Have you seen that one? Who made it? Who didn’t? Where’s my daddy?
He was on the back of my nephew’s truck. They tied themselves to each other, and then to a tree and then watched the rush of houses floating by, cars floating by, appliances, trees. My daddy said if it had hit at night, they wouldn’t have survived.
My daddy had 10 kids. His will to live and his faith in God brought him back to us. He passed on last year at 89.
For many people, anniversaries are a celebration of momentous occasions. Hurricane Katrina, however, is not something I celebrate.
What I celebrate is resilience, the strength to survive and rebuild. I celebrate Pass Christian and my father, who lived for almost 20 years after Katrina. I celebrate doing hard things, and the rebuilding of our close-knit community along the Gulf Coast. I celebrate the opportunity to rebuild.
The Coast is a state of mind. We love it here. It’s home.
Life in this community is centered around family. I’m very close to my family, and while disaster relief was not perfect, we were not overlooked. I remember people like Robin Roberts, the ABC personality, coming to the Pass not knowing if her family was safe. I remember the raw emotion of relief as she spoke on air. I still hear the tremble in her voice.
The storm was catastrophic. Many families were destroyed by it, including my fourth-grade teacher, Ms. Lang, and her husband, who stayed and died. My cousin, who had been stranded on a roof with his dog, was found a day or two later on his brother’s porch.
I still get panic attacks when the weather gets severe or hurricanes are mentioned. I am not the only one with this fear. Plenty of people left the Coast, but I stayed because my parents did.
After Katrina, the community came together. People leaned on each other. Our town, Pass Christian, is small but resilient. I celebrate the strength of our community, and the role of faith in our recovery.
Even now, I keep holy water in my nightstand as a reminder that we can survive and do without many of the things we once thought we needed. Katrina taught us that we can live with less and still thrive.
The Gulf Coast is thriving. Streets like Davis Avenue, North Street and Scenic Drive are full of life. Survivors of Katrina continue to show love and care for their community.
While some people may mourn the anniversary of Katrina, I celebrate the resilience, faith, and unity that allowed us to recover. I celebrate the churches rebuilt, and I celebrate knowing that if something like Katrina comes again, we can survive it. We did once, and by God’s grace, we can do it again.
Franchelle Daniels, daughter of Harold and Lorna Rose Daniels, has served for 25 years as the victims assistance coordinator for the 2nd Circuit Court District of Mississippi She is the vice president of the Pass Christian School District Board of Trustees and has taught victim-based classes at William Carey University, where she earned a master’s degree. She has one son, Jordan Daniels, and his fiancée, Megan. Jordan has a son, Jackson Thomas Daniels, who is age 8 and has just started 3rd grade.
