My dear DU Friends,

When I posted my first Katrina photo essay, with shots from three months after the storm, I was shell-shocked by the destruction I witnessed first-hand.

By the time I posted my second photo essay at the six month mark, I was frustrated that the destruction was still so pervasive, and that most of the country still didn't realize how bad off the Mississippi Coast was.

But now we've hit the nine month anniversary mark, and I have to tell you, I'm just tired. We hear about Katrina fatigue, experienced by people living in parts of the country who have never seen the
devastation firsthand. They're tired of hearing about it. But for those of us who have lived among it, we're just tired.

Tired of FEMA rules that seem arbitrary and punitive.
Tired of contractors ripping people off.
Tired of seeing only casinos being re-invested in, while affordable housing becomes yet another casualty of Katrina.
Tired of the endless waiting: for appraisers, for funding, for building elevation standards to be finalized.
Mostly we're tired of the new normal.

In the new normal, we fight a never-ending, uphill battle against mold spores.


In the new normal, the beach is still piled with debris.


And of course the highway is still bollixed all along the coast.


In the new normal, there are still plenty of houses that stand deserted and destroyed.








But worse is what appeared when the destroyed homes and debris was cleared away.

Flowers grow where the bathroom door used to be.


Tire swings hang wrapped too high for children to use, swaying over slabs.


Ornamental palms invite you into empty lots.


A few random bricks are all that remain of a lifetime, or generations, of family labor.


Driveways lead to weed-filled plots.


And though you can see a few FEMA trailers, they're poor substitutes for the entire neighborhoods (and neighbors) that are gone.

Tomorrow I am leaving the Coast after being here for most of the past seven months. It's a bittersweet farewell. I feel so blessed to have worked here, so privileged (and guilt-ridden) to be able to go home to a home that isn't in a disaster zone. I'll also terribly miss the friends I've made among the residents and other long-term volunteers. Then, too, I may not be gone for good; I wrote a proposal for a one-year ministry/volunteer coordinator position, and if it gets funded, I'll apply for the job.

I also have plans to return, funded job or no, at the year anniversary, to take updated photos of some of the places I've shown in these photo essays. Hopefully you'll see some improvement. I have to warn you, though: many places I've posted remain unchanged (even from the first photo essay), and even the ones that get cleaned up are depressingly… missing, empty, and haunting.

So until late August/early September, adios my beloved Mississippi Coast!