Hurricane Katrina Biloxi
I just ran across these photos , a few minutes ago , that I took right after Hurricane Katrina . I can't help it , i love a good storm .
Was my experience there a miracle? I'm not religious but this would qualify as a small one.
I measured the high Water mark from Hurricane Katrina at "Mary Mahoneys" restaurant which dates back to the 1730s I think . Its on highway 90 and the storm surge was 25 feet above sea level . The 1969 Hurricane Camille , leveled that same area and a mark is on the wall to show the water height it reached in the building .
Comparing the 1969 mark and the greasy black walls about half way up the 2nd story interior walls reveal that " Katrina and her waves " were several feet higher than Camille's which had been the all time benchmark .
New Orleans sustained flood damage after the Hurricane , not directly from the storm like Biloxi did , which most of had been flattened by the 25 foot storm surge wave that engulfed the whole island . The News made New Orleans the world's only focus . The neighborhood I snapped these pictures in was just piles of shattered houses . As i explored , i came upon a Cajun man called Uncle Bob . All that was left of his house was the front steps [ see pic of steps]. He lived about half a block from the beech apartments in the photo . Alot of people parished there just before i got there . I dont remember exactly but it may have been like 31 souls lost just in that condo when that 25 foot deep water removed the interiors of the first 2 floors of the building where a large Hurricane party was being held . In the photo you can see clear through the buildings 1st 2 floors .
After i got there and entered as a past resident with my old Mississippi drivers license as I had lived there for a few years building on casinos . I explored at will and the cops and soldiers let me wander anywhere and everywhere. I dont known why they let me unless my humblest demeanor i could summon and the nonthreatening white shorts and white tshirt showed i wasn't a threat . The camera on my neck spoke for itself and would help document it historically because their cameras were destroyed and all the press was in New Orleans . After exploring the carnage for a couple of hours I came upon Uncle Bob who engaged me in conversation and i let him vent . He said , "its the little things you miss," he said , in a truly heartbreaking tone .
" like what ", said I curious to what he specifically meant . He replied :
" sound crazy but I had a old Grape soda bottle that meant alot da me , I had it in a cabinet with my model cars ".
I forced a persona of support and encouragement but damn it to hell ! This man was as nice as any men i knew and he had built a comfortable life for himself and now his house was scattered in about a one mile radius around
where it had stood . It was on the first street off the beach road so he got the full 25 foot storm surge there ... as he talked I confidently listened and thought to myself ," you've found more needles in more haystack than anyone , let's do this ... When he paused in a heart breaking near tears moment I stepped up to him face to face and told him I was lucky at finding things and had time , can I poke around ? " ooh we son , you sure can ," he replied ... i started by the steps where common decency dictates that when you find photos , valuables or anything that needs preserved , you put it on the nearest steps .
He had a fine stand of grass being he lived a block from the sunny Gulf of America .The trees across the street from him were
400 year old moss covered Live Oaks planted when it was an early Spanish Planations and both were down ...lying on their sides and the roots completely exposed .
So After that first glance around I found a little white toy car stuck in the grass and debris .
I handed it to him and he looked like me the first time I saw boobs . He said nothing but picked up a box and im sure if he had ever been on an Easter egg hunt as a chil this was the same look and smile he had now . So i found about 6 small model cars and one by one I would hand it to him . He was right behind me with his card board box and would look the car over , place it carefully in the box and look up and not move until I proceed . Everything was going sort of well but the yard didn't have much in it , everything was blasted inland . I slowly scanned the area and what had been his back yard had a workout machine a chain link fence and a room sizes piece of carpet all twisted together .
I turned around where he was waiting with the patient's of Jobe .
I asked about that bundle of flotsom and he said the carpet and workout machine was in the room where the cabinet had been .
I knew real hope was dwindling fast .The strip of chain link fence had been stretched out and distorted and was hopelessly entangled in the carpet . Any one of the things was heavy on it's own but together , impossible .
Mr Bob meandered a little ways off , maybe 8 feet away . I Pulled and poked and cursed a bit under my breath at it . On a bit of loose end I reach in and pulled out a little clear bottle it read grapette ; i had found the soda bottle !!! I looked it over and it wasn't damaged .
I had no doubt I would find it , it was my mission on this grand little adventure ... i glanced behind me and he had set the box down and was facing away from me just lookin down sad like ... I stood up and he turned to me , I said as cool and calmly as I could " this it ? "
His eyes got big and in his bad ass accent he said :
" ooh wee son ! you're my new best friend .!!!" We didn't say much after that it wasn't necessary... why spoil the moment with talk . I excused myself and walked on . I wonder if he remembers me ...
Visiting Biloxi after Hurricane Katrina left me with a profound respect for both the power of nature and the resilience of the people who endured the storm. The sheer force of the 25-foot storm surge was unlike anything I've ever witnessed. Living just a block from the Gulf of Mexico, I saw how the historic Live Oaks, some over 400 years old, were uprooted and strewn across the landscape, a somber reminder of the storm's strength. What struck me most deeply was the human side of the disaster. Meeting Uncle Bob, a local Cajun man who lost nearly everything—his home reduced to a pile scattered over a mile radius—put the scale of loss into perspective. His heartbreak over small personal items like his old grape soda bottle and model cars revealed how meaningful memories often reside in the smallest objects. Helping him recover these belongings was both an emotional and fulfilling experience. This encounter underscored how floods in Biloxi differed from the flooding in New Orleans. While New Orleans faced breached levees and widespread inundation, Biloxi was directly hit by a violent storm surge that obliterated entire neighborhoods instantly. Photographs from the aftermath captured buildings with their interiors swept away, and places where joyous hurricane parties turned tragic due to the sudden flooding. Documenting these moments felt important, especially as media attention was largely focused on New Orleans. Having my old Mississippi driver's license allowed me freer access, and despite the chaos, local law enforcement trusted me enough to explore the devastation with my camera, helping preserve this piece of history. The experience was humbling and changed the way I view natural disasters—not just as catastrophic events but as deeply personal tragedies for those affected. Repeatedly, I was reminded of the resilience and spirit that comes after such devastation. The survivors’ connection to their history and community, like the 1730s Mary Mahoney's restaurant with its marked water heights, gave hope that recovery is possible. Reflecting on this, I believe that even in tragedy, small miracles occur — like finding a cherished bottle in the rubble, restoring a glimmer of normalcy amid chaos.
