Roll 'Em!

You roll the dice when you live on the water. Everyone knows that, but you bet that your number won't come up. You look out at that mesmerizing view and you place your chips on the dream of a lifetime, a waterfront home...oceanfront, bayfront, gulf, river. Gulfport and Biloxi lost the bet two and half years ago. I recall the governor and the citizens of Mississippi saying that they were as desperate as New Orleans, but then the levees broke and the media concentrated on Louisiana. The media is gone now. So are most of the homes and businesses on Beach Boulevard. Two casinos have reopened. Hard Rock has come to town. It's a nice gesture, but it'll take more than Hard Rock to pull this area back from the edge. I could hardly wait to get there this morning. My friend Karen in St. Pete gave her mother a trip to Biloxi and the casinos for her 75th birthday. They had a great time. Great town, they said. I left the truck stop early after being warned of strong winds in Texas by a driver who asked where I was headed. He encountered 80 mph winds outside Dallas. He drives a semi and he couldn't keep it on the road. When I confessed I wasn't looking forward to the drive across Texas, he commiserated. "The sun has set, the sun has riz and here in Texas still I is!" Warm, sunny drive through Alabama. Mobile wasn't hard to resist. Industrial seaport with billowing plumes of smoke and steam casting a gray pall over the city. I know Alabama is more than Mobile and I know the people who live there are loyal to their state, but that little stretch between Florida and Mississippi is lackluster. So, with a tip of my hat to Bear Bryant, I was over the MS state line before 10AM. There is a palpable difference when you cross the line. The road is wide and trimmed. Something about it just looks prosperous. Since perception is everything, they are setting the tone for a strong first impression. I usually avoid Welcome Centers. They're noisy and not too clean on average, but I stopped anyway. What a surprise! Polished brick floors, circular staircase to the second floor, gleaming dark wood antique reproductions, chandeliers, and a lifesized cardboard cutout of Elvis in a gold suit that is wired to talk to you when you walk past him! Look at the photo, it looks like a hotel lobby. Mississippi raised the ante with this welcome center! Dr. King and his "I Have A Dream" speech are on the wall. Oriental rugs help the accoustics. You're offered a beverage when you walk in. Definitely a cut above. I had forgotten than Tennessee Williams was born in Mississippi. I grabbed a giveaway of his best quotes and thumbed through it. The very first one resonated with me and certainly rings true on this journey: "Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." (Streetcar Named Desire). Back on I-10, I turned off on Route 49 South and followed it to Highway 90, the "Scenic Highway". That's also known as Beach Boulevard and that's when I stepped into an alternate reality. At first you don't recognize what you're seeing. The beach isn't too wide, but wide enough. Then you realize that the beach is closed and dredging pipes line it from one end to the other. Dredgers are sitting offshore. Beautiful old oak trees grace the boulevard. Then it hits you. Those trees are almost the only survivors. Construction crews are trying to piece Biloxi and Gulfport back together again and that means not only sand but new streets, new piers, new boardwalk, new buildings. Most of the lots have been cleared of debris and most of them now sport "For Sale" signs. Many of those who didn't have insurance left. They will never come back. The buildings that are there are lovely, of course; they're brand new. Four or so condo high rises, a couple dozen single family homes, a few restaurants. Fast food companies have dollars to burn, so, sadly, they are well represented. I drove the waterfront to Biloxi, then turned around and drove to Pass Christian. I remember how charming my parents thought it was. It was. Once. Now, at least on Beach Boulevard, it just doesn't exist. The trees look so serene. Some of the signs made it also. The signs made it, the buildings didn't. St. Thomas The Apostle...great sign, no church. Outback Steak House...sign's up, restaurant floated away. I've never had an experience like this one. And all I'm experiencing is the surreal aftermath. My mind can't comprehend the agony of those who survived with nothing left of their lives. I stopped in the parking lot in front of Ken Combs Pier. Striking up conversations is easy to do in Gulfport. People so much want to share what they have been through and continue to go through. They pour their hearts out to you if you open the door. The man's name was Stan. He lives in Gulfport. His home was blown away. He lived in a FEMA trailer for two years. Stan is lucky. His home was insured. He has rebuilt now and is living in the same spot in new construction. He pointed to the land side of the street in front of us. "That was a service station. And that was an auto parts store. Then there was a cafe. Then four apartment buildings." He's pointing at empty lots. "I look at this and I know what used to be here." He shakes his head, but smiles at me. "A lot of people are still living in tents." I just stare back. "You could have gotten a Katrina Cottage, Stan, for the same money they spent to put you in a trailer and then you would have had something, something of value." "Yeah, well, I wanted a Katrina Cottage, but they wouldn't give me one." "They who?" "The government. They said I couldn't have one because I put the trailer near my work in Biloxi and the trailer had to be on my lot where my house used to be in Gulfport or I couldn't have the cottage." "Stan, you watched the news coverage. You know that private donations from everyday people around the US totaled billions." He nodded, yes, he knew that. "Stan, where did the money go?" He broke out in a grin ear to ear. "The money?", he laughed. "Oh, that's in the Cayman Islands! That's waiting for them when they retire!" He took a call on his cell phone and patted my arm. I waved goodbye and drove back toward I-10. I was hungry by then. Little Mexican restaurant appeared and I swerved in for a soft taco. The server had heavily accented, but good, English. "May I ask you something?" "Sure", he looked a little suspicious. "Were you living here when Katrina hit?" That opened the flood gates. He started to tell me about it. "I have never seen anything like that. The news said it would be a Category 2 or 3 storm. I didn't believe them. I took a few clothes to my car and drove an hour north. I came back in two days and my apartment was standing but everything inside was gone. I didn't know what to do. My sister lives two blocks from the beach. I couldn't find her. We didn't have electric for more than a week. I went to Miami for a month to try to find work. My parents were trying to reach me and my sister and they were so worried. In a month I came back and a friend in Long Beach let me live at his house." That was when he told me he's from Honduras... Tegucigalpa, the capital. When I told him I had lived in La Ceiba, he opened up even more. "Who arrived first to help you here?" "The military. They left water and food in boxes on the streets and in the parking lots." "How long did it take for someone to come?" "Three days. We didn't have food or water." "You know a lot of money was collected to help all of you. What do you think happened to that money?" "I don't know. I got $400. It wasn't much, but it helped me get to Miami." "Que es su nombre?" "Angel." So Angel, the restaurant worker, came back to Gulfport. Gulfport's other angels seem to have left. They must have caught the same bus out of town that so many others did. On the surface, you could say, "Look! They're rebuilding, they're moving on!" But the truth is, for Gulfport and Biloxi citizens, life changed forever in the early morning hours of August 29, 2005. One roll of the dice.

(**One small bright spot: The last home of President of the Confederacy, Jefferson Davis, was "Beauvoir" on the Gulf in Biloxi. It survived and is undergoing major reconstruction now. The building is closed until the reconstruction is completed. See the photo above. The third photo is of a condemned area. Again, the tree survived, the highway overpass didn't.)