Tuesday, August 29, 2006


...i was sitting in a hotel room in tallahassee, florida with the two kiddos and my mom wondering what kinda of destruction was going on at home.
wondering if my husband was alive.
wondering if the police department i work for was still standing.
wondering if all my fellow co-workers (aka friends) were okay.
wondering when i would get to talk to my husband.
wondering what i was going to see when i got back.
wondering if i still had a home to go to.
wondering if i was going to be able to explain all of this to my kids.

i sat in that hotel room for over 24 hours with a knot in my stomach and tears brimming in my eyes while i constantly dialed phone numbers over and over again to be told by a machine that lines were down and i couldn't get through.

i sat trying to keep my kids occupied, while trying to answer their questions.

i sat watching the weather channel and cnn feeling as if i would throw up every time they showed pictures of home.

i sat.

then, late tuesday night (the 30th), i finally got a text from michael letting me know that he was okay.

that everyone was okay. i have never cried like that in my life. shortly after i got the phone call that i waited all that time for. i heard his voice. i knew he was okay. i got to hear that everyone else was okay and that i was very blessed to have my house be okay.

the next morning we hit the road. i couldn't drive fast enough. i still had the knot in my stomach. i didn't know what i was going to see when i got home. i had no idea that gas was going to be like gold. that water was going to be like gold. that i wouldn't be able to drive down roads b/c they were blocked by trees. i had no idea of the stench that had taken over the coast.

i didn't know that when i pulled into the parking lot of the police department that wednesday that it would look like a war zone. officers (aka every day heroes who are my friends) would be filthy and exhausted. the vehicles in the parking lot would have tree limbs on them. the pd is just a block from the beach. but still, i wasn't prepared for the sand in the parking lot. when i pulled up with my mom and kids in tow (b/c after all, this was the first stop i made as soon as i pulled into town), i saw the major (aka the boss) and a captain by one of the back doors. they looked horrible. purely exhausted. i asked them where mike was and was told that he was in his office. i couldn't park and get outta my car fast enough. this has got to be what military wives feel like when they finally get to see their husband after not knowing if they were going to come home or not. i ran to michael and cried. i cried so hard i couldn't breathe.

one year ago today, i had no idea how everyone's life on the gulfcoast of mississippi would be changed forever.

say your prayers for those that have lost loved ones and say your prayers for those who are still trying to rebuild their homes and their lives. b/c they need it.

for those that didn't read my blog last year at this time, you can find a post and pictures here and here.


Tracy said...

powerful words. be well.

andrea said...

so glad you and your family made it through OK, will be praying for those who didn't.

sarah said...

wow elizabeth...
powerful indeed.
thinking of you today.

Andrew said...

I think your analogy to a war zone is entirely appropriate.

To Love, Honor and Dismay

Jennifer said...

It must have been positively surreal to drive back home after that..Thank you for sharing your experience, and I am so glad that everyone you knew in the area was ok. It's hard to hear that it has been such a difficult year for many along the gulf coast, but I'm glad that people have found the strength to perservere.

claudine said...

so so horrible. I get sick looking at those pictures and to think such little help has been given to that area from the government makes it so much worse. I just hope and pray we are ready when the next hits. Andrea and I have wondered how close you were to all that in the gulf coast.

toya said...

i didn't know you were affected by this tradegy, I am happy everything worked out for you and your family, this stuff wasn't a laughing matter at all. this is a touching post

Sherry said...

My parents lost their house and a bro-in-law lost a family home that he and my sis had just moved out of. One of my friend's lost her brother.
I remember seeing the coast for the first time after Katrina (I think it was in Nov.). I was speechless. The devastation was overwhelming.
The news here in Colorado mostly covers what happened in New Orleans. That is probably because the residents of the MS coast were civilized to each other (mostly). None of them shot at helicopters trying to help.
Biloxi, Gulfport, and all other towns destroyed will return because the residents there are survivors.

Ronalyn said...

Wow! What a story.. I am so glad you stopped by my blog.. I LOVE to meet and read new people!!! Wow.. this story has such an impact.. so meaningful!!! I cant wait to look through your archives and get to know you more! I hope you have a great day!! Talk soon!

*~*Jocelynne*~* said...

MAN! That's all I can say!

Amber Lee said...

So amazing what nature can do. So glad you came through it alright, thanks for the share.

Alli's Mom said...

You were so so blessed.

Really, that is all I can say.

V said...

Oh E.......my heart broke reading this....you are blessed honey. You and your family.

Greta said...

I still can't believe it to this day...we were so blessed unlike many around us....


Jamie said...

omg, WOW.
i'm sooooooooo happy you're ok.
thank god right?

Gillian said...

I can just imagine your horror sitting on that bed in your hotel room waiting to hear that news. Thank God, it was all good. You must feel beyond blessed. I really enjoyed reading your post. Thank you for stopping by my blog and commenting...

skinnylittleblonde said...

Heart wrenching & devestating & so hard to beleive it has been a year already. I am so glad that you & yours made it through.
Mother Nature is no-one to second guess.
We lived, years ago, one house off of 90 in Pass Christian & I can remember well that the slightest of hurricanes swelled the ocean into our yards, our streets & our homes.
In the feild across the street from us, I picked blackberries from the vines that grew over the fondation of the apartment complex & houses that were completely wiped away by Camille.
The world can re-build, but we cannot afford to forget.
Thank you for such an exceptional reminder.