For 10 years, Livingston County CARES has been assisting Harrison County, which was devastated by Hurricane Katrina, to help rebuild sustainable communities. The commitment continues. On the anniversary, the Scene traveled with students, faculty and community volunteers to look at the real impact of our work. Read the award-winning, full story.
It鈥檚 been eight years since Gladys Daniels, 83, opened the front door to her home for the first time again.
Plumbers, electricians, college students and a lot of crews from different states ripped up, hammered, painted, and enabled her to return to her Bowen Street house after Hurricane Katrina.
Without them, 鈥渢his鈥 would not have happened: a tidy one-story home with a wheelchair ramp entrance, sturdy windows鈥攁ll on the property she and her late husband bought to raise a family decades ago.
鈥淭he storm was horrible. Oh Lord, I hope I never have to go through one again,鈥 Gladys says, looking out at her family room and dining room table. 鈥淏ut people help you. It鈥檚 remarkable. People you鈥檝e never seen before. It was just so good and kind. You don鈥檛 even know them.鈥
A few feet away is where her last dining room table sat, and where she and her son, Ben, and her now deceased mother survived the storm. Katrina floodwaters rushed in during daytime, thank the Lord, she says, or more of her friends would have died.
鈥淲e had storms but we never got water like that,鈥 she says, explaining why many didn鈥檛 evacuate. 鈥淚t was too late for us to go.鈥
Her mom ran over from across the street. By then, it was too late to do anything but get on the dining room table鈥攁nd hope and fear.
鈥淭here was water up to here,鈥 says Gladys, her finger resting on the paint at standing eye level.
At first, Gladys waded in the water, catching shoes that floated out of closets and putting them on the couch. When the refrigerator tipped, she knew it was disaster. She and Ben put a chair on the dining room table for her mom; it was a struggle, but they all got up. If Ben wasn鈥檛 there? They鈥檇 be dead.
Hours and night passed, the water waist-level past the table: 鈥淲e were praying and everything else and calling to Jesus. Ain鈥檛 nothing else to do. 鈥楯esus, don鈥檛 leave us now.鈥
鈥淢any of our friends drowned.鈥
When the water receded, the family waded in the muck. Only a few blankets kept in an upper space could be kept. They lost everything. 鈥淲hat you have, you wanted,鈥 she says.
People in the food and water trucks were the first people who lent a hand, and have stuck with her. The volunteers from many states rebuilt her home鈥攇utted to homey once again. She carries that with her.
鈥淚 think of the scripture. 鈥業t is more blessed to give than to receive.鈥 I often think of that, and if someone comes around for help for something, I give. And if I don鈥檛 have it to give, I try to get it. You鈥檝e got to help one another, and get along with one another. What if the people didn鈥檛 help me? Where would I be today?"
鈥 Story and photo by Kris Dreessen