Above:A 360-degree photo shows a rusted boat and other wreckage at Bayou Caddy, a port west of Waveland. (John Brecher / MSNBC.com)
About this project
In the coming months, MSNBC.com will focus its coverage of the Hurricane Katrina recovery on two cities on the hard-hit Mississippi coast.
Though Bay St. Louis and Waveland are far from the media spotlight on New Orleans, the intertwined fates of the people, businesses and institutions in these towns tell the story of an entire region's struggle to recover from the most destructive storm in U.S. history.
PEARLINGTON, Miss. -- We hear a lot of incredible hurricane survival stories every day in Bay St. Louis and Waveland, where nearly three months later people still greet each other with reports of how many feet of water they had in their house.
But when we heard the story of the alligator in the living room we had to check it out, even though it took us a bit outside our usual area of interest to Pearlington, a town 20 miles west of Waveland that was decimated by Katrina.
To get to the bottom of the story, we dropped in on a meeting of the Pearlington Residents Committee.
The purpose of the meeting at the home of Lena Macillus was to discuss an effort to get Mississippi Attorney General Jim Hood to investigate a plan for sewer service that the committee believes would be cost-prohibitive for the 52 percent of residents who live on fixed income, include one-third who live below the poverty line.
BAY ST. LOUIS - The crystal glasses, china plates and heavy silverware at the Sycamore House on Main Street come as a pleasant shock to residents and visitors weary of eating church-provided meals, MREs and fast food off foam plastic plates.
The restaurant, in a historic 145-year-old house on Main Street, suffered almost no damage in Hurricane Katrina and reopened for business two weeks ago with a skeleton crew, limited menu and shortened operating hours.
Business was brisk Saturday night as owners Michael and Stella LeGardeur-Eastham completed their first full weekend since the storm with diners filling all tables in the Provence Room and spilling out onto the screened-in porch despite the chilly weather.
Maria Russell lists her dog Jim as something to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. (Image courtesy of Maria Russell)
There are so many topics one could write about in this post-Katrina state. Initially, I thought I would write about “diversions,” something so desperately needed by someone who is usually positive and “up” like me. After all, living among rubble, driving past endless miles of enormously high piles of debris, and making daily trips for something as simple as water CAN eventually wear down one’s spirits.
It didn’t take me long after accepting the reality of Katrina that I needed something to do. In those first few days after the storm, I was hardly ready for a “job,” but still, I needed a reason to get out of bed. Although Dave and I lost everything, I was not about to fill my days with going to the distribution points and hording anything and everything I could, like some people were. I counted myself fortunate to have a roof over my head (a rather small, but perfectly adequate, truck/camper), enough money for food and necessities (despite not having anywhere to shop), and above all, insurance.
Bay St. Louis resident Mary Johnson filled her cart with yams, turkey legs and other holiday season essentials at the Waveland Wal-Mart Saturday, grateful she no longer has to drive 45 minutes to Gulfport or Slidell, La., for groceries.
“I’m trying to get us a few things, get us a Thanksgiving dinner,” said Johnson, who is living in her partly damaged house and planning to make gumbo for an extended family including her six children and 13 grandchildren.
The Wal-Mart reopened Saturday as a shadow of its former self but was a welcome sight for residents who have had to drive 20 miles or more to shop for groceries and other essentials until now.
WAVELAND - With her long blonde hair, rhinestone-studded sunglasses and electric blue suit, Chari Rapp cuts a striking figure as she cruises the ruined streets of Waveland in a sparkling white Jaguar luxury sedan.
Since Hurricane Katrina gutted her office building, rendered her rental properties uninhabitable and destroyed her listings, the real estate agent has been working out of the trunk of her instantly identifiable car with an unshakable faith that this devastated area will recover, and eventually grow bigger and better than before.
I exchanged tearful hugs and a goodbye with yet another dear friend and her family this week. Her reasoning for packing up and leaving was understandable. It’s wasn’t so much because of Katrina but her fears of what the aftermath of this storm will bring. I have the same concerns as she does. She loves Bay St. Louis, spent 31 years of her life here and today, in heartbreaking truth, is no further ahead than what she was when her family made the decision to move here to build their future of dreams. I can’t argue that point, I am in the same boat as her family and hundreds of others.
Cindy was very upset and her words nearly broke my heart in two. She told me she "doesn’t have another 31 years left to try again…and has never felt like she was really a part of Bay St. Louis, even though she had raised three children here. It’s not about families, values and building strong communities and homes for hard-working families and their children. It’s about historical buildings; artwork and politics.”
Since I can only access e-mail at school now and grades are due this week, let me come right to the point and say “Bring on the parades!”
I am in this as deeply as anyone. I also wonder about when the debris will be removed, what the new building codes will be, whether I will move to Bay St. Louis or stay in Waveland, what is going to happen next at any given point in my day, and why I can’t find the new FEMA elevation guidelines on fema.gov. I have no idea what’s going on. One of my students allowed as how she knows a lot more since the storm. “Funny,” I replied. “I seem to know a lot less.”
BAY ST. LOUIS, Miss. -- If you happen to be in the market for 500 men’s tuxedo jackets -- black, white, tails and regular, sizes tiny tot to 64L, have we got a deal for you. Only one problem: no pants.
Sylvia Young, owner of Bon Temp Roule in the historic downtown of Bay St. Louis, has been open for business since early October, and she is willing to make a deal.
Young has owned the business since moving from New Orleans 15 years ago, selling ball gowns for the Mardi Gras ball season, bridal dresses for weddings and an enormous array of costumes, from Gen. George Washington to Gen. Robert E. Lee to Austin Powers.
On Wednesdays, Bay Waveland Yacht Club members traditionally raced sailboats and retired afterward to their clubhouse for drinks. Hurricane Katrina removed the building, most of the boats, and part of the marina, but this week the Wednesday evening party happened anyway.
Despite a persistent chilly wind, about 20 club members barbecued steaks, gathered around a fire, and drank wine from small plastic cups under a starry sky. Click "play" to hear sounds of the party and the dream to rebuild the yacht club.
Waveland Town Council meetings have become contentious affairs, reflecting a community overwhelmed by the destruction of Katrina, which has left hundreds of its residents living in trailers with no real idea when or how they might be able to rebuild.
At Wednesday’s standing-room-only session, a shouting match broke out almost from the outset over a seemingly innocuous proposal for a holiday parade in December. One resident objected loudly – wouldn’t shut up, in fact – arguing there is no time to be wasting time on parades when people are wondering where they are going to live.
As Heather and I have returned to playing in New Orleans over the past few weeks, it's been interesting to have the conversations we've been having. Most of the clientele at the Bombay Club are locals New Orleanians, and the admiration that we've heard from them toward Mississippi and its efforts to rebuild has been staggering.
When we first started telling our friends in the Big Easy that we were going to move out of the city (about a year ago) the reactions we got were so negative. "You're kidding, right?" "Well, guess you won't be needing your shoes," "I wouldn't go there. ... They've got a slave mentality over there!" Since we had family here (and since Heather basically lived here every summer of her childhood) we weren't biased by these mistaken stereotypes of Mississippi.
The bad news is that hundreds of businesses were destroyed and probably will never reopen. The good news is that more than 100 enterprises are up and running in Bay St. Louis and Waveland, and many of them are doing a booming business.
Officials of the Federal Emergency Management Agency spent two days canvassing businesses throughout Hancock County in late October and concluded that 800 businesses were either damaged or destroyed, but 300 were up and running and another 142 had plans to reopen. The county has a total of about 1,400 businesses including government offices, according to local tax records.
Among the busiest spots in the county is Hubbard's Waveland Hardware, which opened within two weeks after Katrina, handing products over a board at the front door and rounding prices to the nearest dollar. Today the 51-year-old family-owned business is thriving, one of the few signs of commerce in the devastated area south of Highway 90.
Last night the rain, wind and cold came through. My cat, Freeway (named that since a friend's daughter found him on the interstate with a brother and 3 dead brothers and sisters in pouring down rain), went wild about 11 p.m.
Freeway spent Hurricane Katrina in my house, while I was at Stennis Space Center. My next door neighbors let him out after the storm, and, when I returned home, I found hundreds of muddy kitty cat footprints all over the house, on furniture, the washing machine, the ripped mini blinds, etc.
So last night, when the rain started hitting the trailer and the wind started blowing, he freaked out and wanted to go outside. I let him out, but the scars are obviously still there for a great many of us, including our animals. By the way, my other cat, Bleu, a 16-year-old Himalayan, did not make it. She stayed outside for Katrina, and has not been seen since.
Heavy rain moved through the Bay-Waveland area overnight, leaving in its wake cold and windy weather. But the area avoided the severe thunderstorms and tornadoes that were seen to the north.
"We were very fortunate. It seemed to go right around us," said David Greiser, a spokesman for the Hancock County Emergency Operations Center.
At least 20 people spent the night in the shelter provided by Stennis Space Center nearby, which had offered to take up to 1,200.
Pete and Betty Benvenutti watch the demolition of the 100-year-old front section of their house that was rendered unlivable by Hurricane Katrina. Click "play" to hear Betty and Pete describe the history of their house.
The house at 114 Felicity grew slowly over five generations, but it came down quickly. Pete and Betty Benvenutti, who lived there 41 years, are making plans to rebuild.
After surviving countless storms, including Camille in 1969 and unnamed monsters in 1915 and 1947, Katrina fatally wounded the 107-year-old structure with a wall of water that many have likened to a tsunami. Wrecking crews finished the job in a few quick hours this month, leaving just the shell of a back wing added by the couple in the 1960s.
The Mississippi Gulf Coast is bracing for its first severe weather since the outer bands of Hurricane Rita swept through here nearly two months ago. Forecasters say a strong cold front is slowly making its way across the south-central United States, threatening to bring damaging winds, heavy rain, quarter-size hailstones and possibly even tornadoes.
With thousands of Hancock County residents, relief workers and contractors living in trailers and tents in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, authorities were urging people to spend the night in shelter facilities set up at NASA’s Stennis Space Center, about 10 miles west of Bay St. Louis. So far, few people have taken them up on the offer.
My name is Gwen Impson and I am president of the The Arts Hancock County Mississippi. I’d like to begin this diary with an introduction of who we are and where we are.
Hancock County is located on the western edge of the Mississippi Gulf Coast and is comprised of several distinct areas: Bay St. Louis, Waveland, Diamondhead, Pearlington and the Kiln.
Hollywood stuntman Randall Huber demonstrates a movie-style hair pull with a volunteer prior to showing Spiderman 2 at the temporary outdoor venue called Hope Theater.
Click "play" above to hear Randall talk about bringing entertainment to Bay St. Louis.
For a fresh correspondent, arriving by night in devastated Bay St. Louis is an unsettling experience.
The air is muggy and warm, and the full moon is filtered by passing high clouds. But the car headlights reveal glimpses of destruction: A truck in a waterlogged ditch, a flattened shopping center and piles and piles of debris.
Click 'Play' to hear Dan Marine talk about his business plans for the future.
WAVELAND, Miss. -- Katrina’s flood waters had barely receded when Dan Marine was driving into the disaster zone, against the flow of cars moving north, trying to get out. It was three days after the hurricane hit, and he wanted to see the damage to his home and furniture business on Highway 90. He expected it to be bad, and it was.
"A day before the storm I was the biggest used furniture dealer in southern Mississippi. The day after, I was looking for a mattress to sleep on," he says.
Brice Phillips, chief engineer of radio station WQRZ, holds one of the 3,000 radios handed out by FEMA after Hurricane Katrina. Click "Play" to hear Phillips describe the station's mission and how it weathered the storm.
KILN, Miss. -- The first face you see when you walk into Hancock County's Emergency Operations Center is that of Christine Stach. She's the program director of WQRZ, and her location here is a sign of just how vital the small, non-profit station (103.5 FM) has become in these parts.
Before Katrina, Stach, who's in her mid-30s, and her partner, Brice Phillips, 39, the chief engineer, operated WQRZ as a low-power community station out of their house at the end of Indian Street outside Waveland. Phillips erected the tower himself.
That old saying -- there is always light at the end of the tunnel. OK, that sounds great, but if I can just find the tunnel I think I would feel a little better. Today in the FEMA "TROUSE" (trailer-house) started out like normal. Rise and shine from the bed, trip over our cat, and take the normal two steps into the kitchen. Grabbed for the bottled water and the coffee pot that’s on its last leg. Darcy got ready for school and we headed down the beach towards the bay.
Some tent families are going to be doing cartwheels; Santa is coming early, with a caravan of five spanking new FEMA trailers heading down Highway 90 toward Bay St. Louis. OK FEMA, let’s kick this in gear here and double the order, if you can send five, why can’t you send 10? Come on FEMA, my grandmother moved faster than you.
I see today that some of the debris piles are getting smaller, except in areas like Cedar Point and Waveland, some of the hardest hit areas.
On Friday I visited Pearlington to see how the Pearlington Public Library is. You see, I am the public affairs/development officer for the Hancock County Library System. Our library system lost two branches - - Waveland and Pearlington. The Pearlington Library is currently being used as a shelter. I mean literally; there are cots inside the building where people sleep.
Throughout this whole experience I've been hearing various songs in my head that seem to have relevance. (Being a musician, I guess this is only natural.)
Of course, "Stormy Weather" pops up. "Can't go on, Everything I have is gone, Stormy Weather."
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