Nineteen Years Later: Reflecting on Katrina

On the Shoofly - August 2024

A reflection of the storm and home.

- By Kirby Rhodes

Beach Boulevard, Old Town Bay St. Louis, Post Katrina, 2005. Shoofly Archives

This week marked 19 years since one of the most significant events of my life. I was in sixth grade when Hurricane Katrina hit. I can vividly recall the Friday before the storm telling all my friends at school I’d see them Tuesday, maybe Wednesday. I didn’t see some of them again until almost a year later.
 
I remember watching the news on Saturday morning, and my mom realizing we needed to evacuate. My dad had to work, but he was going to leave Sunday. I felt so grown up and responsible. I took all my pictures and decorations off my dresser and desk and put them on the floor of my closet or under my bed. I had no way of knowing that act was useless.
 
After everything was said and done, we had over 12 feet of water in our house. The water line was just under the windowsills of the second floor. We were lucky, though; our house was still standing, and we were able to salvage the things from the top of our closets. No one in our family died.
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Ground Zero Museum, Waveland

 
Sitting here, I realize I have so many memories about that time of my life to share, good and bad. I could sit here and commiserate about the stress and anxiety or talk about the amazing, resilient response after the storm.
 
Looking back, I have a much deeper understanding of what was happening, and why. But as an 11-year-old, I didn’t understand the true impact. I did not understand the global stage we, the landmass between New Orleans and Mobile, were on.
 

​The other day I was talking to new friends and just happened to mention Hurricane Katrina. I guess the upcoming anniversary was on my mind, even subconsciously. My friends were shocked that I had survived the storm. Their first response was something like, “I thought Katrina hit New Orleans. Aren’t you from Mississippi?” Ugh. I hate that response.
 
Younger me would have gotten offended and immediately explained in detail exactly what happened. I felt the need to fight for and defend my hometown, little ole Bay St. Louis and Waveland. Older me has a new perspective and the maturity to realize they only know what the news told them. It was a national news for a week or two and then it faded into the oblivion for a lot of people. That was a painful realization—no one else’s world had stopped.
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100 Men Hall after Hurricane Katrina, 2005. Shoofly Archives Photo

​But even with all the horrible, terrible things that happened, I look at what our town is today and can’t help but be filled with pride. We have come so far. Some might say too far, but that’s a conversation for a different piece.
 
Our town, our county is flourishing, rebuilding bigger, better, stronger.
 
Living in Bay St. Louis as an adult has changed my life. It made me realize that this little town would aways be home. No matter where life takes me in the meantime, no matter what devastating storms we may face in the future, I’ll always come home.

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