The trip to Gulfport was unbelievable. To see the pictures on TV is one thing, but to see it with your own eyes is something else. As I was driving down Highway 49, the damage just got worse and worse from Hattiesburg on down. The trees that fell here in Jackson were completely uprooted, but I started noticing the trees were broken in half (like toothpicks) more and more the closer I got to the coast. There were hundreds of trucks up and down Highway 49 removing trees and debris. You would think it would slack off somewhere, but it never did. We just kept seeing these hundreds of trucks all working just on the trees. The damage in Hattiesburg looked like what I thought I would see in Gulfport. I mean, the damage in Hattiesburg was unbelievable! But, there was a big football game at USM and everyone seemed to be in good spirits. ALL the trees are in spring time mode! It's really weird looking at all this new growth that shouldn't be! I also couldn't help but wonder about the signs pointing to the small towns off Highway 49---Petal, Saucier, McHenry, etc. You know they have suffered major damage, too, but have gotten little or no attention.

Every home on Highway 49 has a blue tarp on their roof. There was not one house that I saw that was undamaged from the hurricane and the damage got worse the further south I went. Once Annette and I got to Gulfport, the damage I saw reminded me of pictures I have seen of bombing during WWII. All these buildings were nothing but rubble. People walking around with the hopeless look on their faces. I drove as close to Highway 90 as I could and then we parked and we just walked around the barricades. So many buildings, so many offices just completely vanished and the ones that are left are nothing but rubble. The building where I would always buy tickets to go to Ship Island just doesn't exist anymore. I thought I would find something of what was left, but it just wasn't there. There were just piles and piles of chairs, computers, library books, Bibles, toys everywhere you looked. There was no telling how far anything had traveled or where it had come from.

There are National Guard troops everywhere and they ride around in Hummers. Their presence in Gulfport made it seem more like a war. We saw a tent city that had been set up for victims and I couldn't believe I was really seeing people living like that. I mean, hundreds of tents side by side and people actually trying to LIVE there. We saw people living in RV's all over the place----in parking lots, churches, on the side of the road, you name it, they were living somewhere in a camper.....if you call that living.

When we got to the Racquet Club, they were all waiting on us and acted like kids at Christmas when we gave them what we had brought. Vivian is living in an upstairs unit at the apartments. There is still no electricity and there is no water. So, think about it...No cooking, no refrigerator usage, no shower, no toilet, so I wouldn't call that living! But, at least she has a roof over her head, she says. She told me she feels like the hurricane came to teach HER to be a better person. She is already a great person, but it's always people like her that try to learn lessons in life. She has lost everything she has ever had, she has no transportation, but yet, SHE wants to be a better human being! She no longer has her job since she has nothing to clean. Since I have been back, I think of her at dusk. When it's dark at the apartments, there are no lights anywhere and, of course, since there is no power, there is no TV, which most of America could not live without. But, she says that is OK because she has to be quiet to listen for the looters. The looters come out at night trying to steal anything and everything. But, Vivian keeps a shotgun by her side at all times and she says she feels safe. Imagine going to bed with your shotgun!

The apartment complex has a bayou that runs along the back of the complex. It's also only a couple of miles from the beach. When Katrina hit, the water hit the complex from both sides. In Vivian's old apartment, I saw a water mark that was 6 feet. As I walked the property, the water got all the downstairs units and all the upstairs units got wind damage. Some roofs were completely blown off and one whole building has just completely caved in. Inside some of the upstairs units, the ceilings are completely gone and all you see are rafters. When the water came in, the swimming pool filled up with jelly fish! So many of the downstairs units still have fish just lying on the carpet. Mold and mildew has gone all the way up the wall and across the ceiling. The smell is horrible. Probably 90% of the apartments still have all the furniture in them. Bob (owner) asked everyone to move out, but some refused. They have no place to go. These residents contacted MEMA (the Ms FEMA) and MEMA told Bob he could not make them move. So, now they stay and Bob is now between a rock and a hard place. He can't bring in any heavy equipment to tear out with people all around. He can't get State Farm to send out the insurance adjuster, so he has hired his own adjusters. He is trying to put up a chain link fence around the property, but can't get anyone to do the job. So, looters are free to come and go. Kim, the manager, also carries a gun by her side at all times and she has threatened to use hers on a looter, too. Her home in Long Beach has been condemned, so she is trying to deal with all of that plus a husband and two children. They are all living in her Mom's home, which had little damage, but two other complete families live there, too!! I don't call that living. She walks around with a pair of oyster shucker boots. She says she feels safer wearing them with all the debris around, but I also happen to know she lost all her shoes in the hurricane.

We will be going back soon to help and if it's the last thing I do, I will get Vivian a 2nd hand car. When we flooded a couple of years ago, it took 8 months to rebuild, but reconstruction began almost immediately. People were able to come and see that eventually they would get back in to their homes, which gave them hope. Today begins week 6 since Hurricane Katrina and each day, the staff at The Racquet Club waits to hear what is going to happen. But, they have that lost look on their faces. They don't have that hope because they honestly do not know what their tomorrow will bring.

Love,
Paulette