Well, I have to admit, it feels a bit like 3 years ago, yesterday. Big honkin’ hurricane in the Gulf, fear and agitation as people ponder their own helplessness in the face of the force of nature’s fury. The added weight, this time, of the memories of devastation, destruction, and loss of life. What is brought to mind most clearly at this time, however, is the fact that there are no accidents. There is nothing that is not the express will of God, or that is not His good and perfect will. With this thought in the forefront, we can only think one thing, when facing nature’s wrath.

This is our Father’s world. Do you really know, deep down in your heart of hearts, what the implications of this are? It’s truly a wonderful thing to behold. Not because I’m “smarter”, or more courageous. (As a side note, what else I find interesting is that our church is in the midst of a study of the book of Joshua, my namesake. What is the cardinal principle of this book? Be Strong and Courageous! Why? For the LORD your God is with you wherever you go!) When we look at all things through the prism of God’s glorification of Himself, and His promises to glorify Himself through us, can we submit to fear? Is it even an option for us to buckle beneath pressure, or bemoan our “fate”, as if God did not have a greater glory to involve us in, through it? I cannot imagine such a thing. I cannot wish such a thing. I cannot, because I know the God I serve. When faced with situations that threaten us, tempt us to ditch our faith, and abandon our hope, we can have only one response.

Joy. Does that sound strange to you? Perhaps it shouldn’t.

How that in a great trial of affliction the abundance of their joy and their deep poverty abounded unto the riches of their liberality. ~ 2 Cor. 8;2

Didn’t we see that, after the last big storm?

Then he said to them, “Go, eat of the fat, drink of the sweet, and send portions to him who has nothing prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord. Do not be grieved, for the joy of the LORD is your strength.” ~ Neh 8:10

Do you see, yet? What gives us strength?

But let all who take refuge in You be glad, Let them ever sing for joy; And may You shelter them, That those who love Your name may exult in You. ~ Psalm 5:11

Who is our shelter? What is the subject of the great hymn, “A Mighty Fortress”? Is this not the same principle?

For You, O LORD, have made me glad by what You have done, I will sing for joy at the works of Your hands. ~Psalm 92:4

Even hurricanes are the work of God’s hands. I’ll repeat something I said a long time ago, and has stuck with me ever since.

During the hurricane, it was an adventure. The kind of adventure guys really do like, and don’t really care if anyone thinks they’re crazy for liking. The wind made the house shudder, and shake. The trees’ branches were snapping off right and left, making an awful racket. The rain was driving so hard that it really was painful, when it hit you. Small objects were flying past you at 70+ mph – and all you could do was hold on. I’ll confess – I loved it.

I’m not crazy. I’m a typical guy, I think. I never felt like I was in *real* danger. But I knew I could have been. Adrenaline makes you feel like a million bucks. It’s that feeling you get when you take a curve a hair too fast in a sports car, and get dangerously close to spinning out of it – but you don’t. Your heart races, your blood is pumping so loud in your ears… and you feel alive. Okay, maybe I am a bit of an adrenaline junkie.

Mostly, though, I was in awe of the display of God’s might. Not that this was a “judgment”, or anything. Just the fact that God’s creation is so breathtakingly powerful, and knowing that God created it. If this storm is this powerful… and God made it… what must God be like?

I spent a good bit of the time curled up on the porch, head on my knees, tears in my eyes, and my heart in my throat. I wasn’t scared. I don’t think i was ever scared once, to be honest. It was too freaking cool. I was praising God, all by myself. Just me, and God, in the middle of this mighty storm – and I was singing. Brokenly, but I was singing. It was that awesome. It’s truly an experience I really don’t quite know how to share. God was just… there. He was with me. I’m not going to say I felt His “special hand of protection on me” – although it may well have been. I just know God was present, because His children can always feel it. I can’t explain it any other way.

I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t even worried. I was awestruck by how unbelievably magnificent a thing that His power had wrought. I can’t really say I’d still say the same, had I sustained more damage. We had almost nothing damaged at all. All I know is – that hurricane, from the inside, was quite possibly the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I couldn’t help but fall down and praise. I just couldn’t. I hadn’t told anyone this story yet – not really. Bethany heard it, sort of. I don’t know if I got it across very well to her at the time. It seemed a bit odd a thing to share, really. It’s what happened, though. In the wake of all the devastation, all the pain, and all the loss – I almost feel bad saying I think it was so neat. The actual storm WAS neat. What it did wasn’t so neat. The storm itself… I have never seen anything like it, and likely never will again.

I got to sit and watch the ENTIRE thing from a dry place, I was safe, and I praised God.

I said that back in this post, in Dec. of ’05.

In the midst of a possible dervish of destruction – you know what? God is still in control of things. He’s still the Author and Finisher of our faith. He still has His hand on the tiller. He still “upholds all things by the word of His power” (Heb 1:3). Fear not!

There is a perfect purpose in the midst of these events, no matter whether we can see it or not. So, while I did do some preparation for the hurricane’s landfall in my area, I also know I can’t lose sight of the fact that there is no room for “a spirit of fear” in the heart of a Christian – only for power, and for love, and for a sound mind (2 Tim. 1:7). So, if you also find yourself in the path of a storm, or in the midst of difficulty; “Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

I’ve live-blogged the last few hurricanes I’ve been around for – I’ll likely do the same with this one, as long as I can. I’m 8 miles north of the beach, same house as last time, and the same God is still my God 😀 Don’t worry. God’s in control, and His glory will be displayed in this. In the meantime, pray, meditate on His goodness, and even love this awesome display of might in His creation. I assure you – it is a powerful and blessed thing.

It’s now 3 months, and 13 days since Katrina, I do believe.

Something like that. I’ve been so swamped… so snowed under by just… life – that I haven’t really had a chance to share anything about it, save for a couple posts.

First, the actual hurricane itself. I watched the vast majority of it from outside in it. I was on my front porch until the eye of the storm passed over, here in Gulfport. After it did … I walked in it, up to Perkinston, which is… let’s see what Mapquest tells me.

25.79 miles. Now, although that’s quite a walk, think about when I walked it. The wind had died down to about 50-60mph when I started, but it was still raining pretty heavily. I started at about 12:30/1:00 pm, and got there about 7:30, I think. Not bad for that far, really. That wind, though. Walking in that is NOT easy.

Anyway, back to my impressions.

During the hurricane, it was an adventure. The kind of adventure guys really do like, and don’t really care if anyone thinks they’re crazy for liking. The wind made the house shudder, and shake. The trees’ branches were snapping off right and left, making an awful racket. The rain was driving so hard that it really was painful, when it hit you. Small objects were flying past you at 70+ mph – and all you could do was hold on. I’ll confess – I loved it.

I’m not crazy. I’m a typical guy, I think. I never felt like I was in *real* danger. But I knew I could have been. Adrenaline makes you feel like a million bucks. It’s that feeling you get when you take a curve a hair too fast in a sports car, and get dangerously close to spinning out of it – but you don’t. Your heart races, your blood is pumping so loud in your ears… and you feel alive. Okay, maybe I am a bit of an adrenaline junkie.

Mostly, though, I was in awe of the display of God’s might. Not that this was a “judgment”, or anything. Just the fact that God’s creation is so breathtakingly powerful, and knowing that God created it. If this storm is this powerful… and God made it… what must God be like?

I spent a good bit of the time curled up on the porch, head on my knees, tears in my eyes, and my heart in my throat. I wasn’t scared. I don’t think i was ever scared once, to be honest. It was too freaking cool. I was praising God, all by myself. Just me, and God, in the middle of this mighty storm – and I was singing. Brokenly, but I was singing. It was that awesome. It’s truly an experience I really don’t quite know how to share. God was just… there. He was with me. I’m not going to say I felt His “special hand of protection on me” – although it may well have been. I just know God was present, because His children can always feel it. I can’t explain it any other way.

I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t even worried. I was awestruck by how unbelievably magnificent a thing that His power had wrought. I can’t really say I’d still say the same, had I sustained more damage. We had almost nothing damaged at all. All I know is – that hurricane, from the inside, was quite possibly the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I couldn’t help but fall down and praise. I just couldn’t. I hadn’t told anyone this story yet – not really. Bethany heard it, sort of. I don’t know if I got it across very well to her at the time. It seemed a bit odd a thing to share, really. It’s what happened, though. In the wake of all the devastation, all the pain, and all the loss – I almost feel bad saying I think it was so neat. The actual storm WAS neat. What it did wasn’t so neat. The storm itself… I have never seen anything like it, and likely never will again.

I got to sit and watch the ENTIRE thing from a dry place, I was safe, and I praised God.

After the hurricane? Well, I can’t say I didn’t think a lot of that was cool, too. I saw the best and worst of people. Down here, I think it was way, way, way more of the best. So many people went out of their way to be friendly, courteous, and to help one another. The churches, and the Christians were absolutely magnificent in their response. The love you saw everywhere was palpable. Bethany’s family were all great to me, and I got to know them all so much better.

So much destruction, but so much love on display. Mississippi is one of the most heavily Christian states of the Union. You could tell, folks. “They will know you are Christians by your love” isn’t just a saying. I saw it. I lived it. It was absolutely awesome, folks.

In the months to follow, as tempers started wearing thin, utilities were still not all up yet, and the FEMA craze hit… it went downhill. Traffic began to get crazy, as the Coast’s population virtually doubled with relief workers and contractors. Lines, the destruction, and just general stress took it’s toll on everyone.

I’d like to make a general note about FEMA, and the outside monetary aid.

First: FEMA was never, and is never, going to save everyone. FEMA is totally, utterly, irrelevant. I don’t think that the people with signs out saying “where are you, FEMA?” really understood what they were doing. They just made me shake my head. Why do you think FEMA is going to save you from whatever position you’re in? I have friends, and family, who have lost everything. They didn’t count on FEMA to save them. They talked to their insurance companies, and started plans to rebuild almost immediately – whether they got their insurance money back, or not. Insurance companies don’t make money by paying you, either, incidentally. Almost without exception, the insurance companies have tried to screw over their policyholders. A few exceptions, but very few that I’ve talked to. I install garage doors. I talk to every single homeowner I put a door in for about their insurance, at some point. Trust me… I hear this a lot.

I just don’t get that “save me, faceless government bureaucrat!” concept. Or the people with signs on their fence: “Why do you keep passing me, Cable One! I want my cable NOW!”

I mean, really. If I were them… they’d be the last person in the county to get cable. Phone, power… same sort of thing. Like I said earlier. The best, and the worst.

As far as jobs go? There’s more jobs here than people. At my work, there is now only 1 regular employee that has been there longer than me. One. The two supervisors, and the office manager have all been there for a decade or so – and they don’t count 😀 But, there’s only *one* other employee that was here before the storm hit. One. The company employs about 15-20 people, and they have an atrocious turnover rate. Not because of anything they do. It’s because of how many jobs there are, right now. You know what the most common thing I’ve heard is? “It’s nothing special to have a job, right now. Everyone is so starving for people that I could get a job in 5 minutes of walking out of here.”

Sad thing is – they’re right. Unemployment should not exist, right now. Every place I know has a hiring sign out. Going through people like that is killer on the experienced help, though. You have to train someone else every week, just about.

I hate to sound too whiny. Work, if you’re in any sort of construction field, is absolutely, positively insanely busy. There aren’t enough people, there isn’t enough hours in the day, and everyone’s cranky. I’ll leave it at that, I guess.

We have Samaritan’s Purse Canada living at our church, and helping all over the Coast. I’ve been married since Katrina. Life, overall, is good. Busy, but good. That’s about all I see, looking back. Life, even with Katrina, is still good. It’s good because our God is so good to us.
You can take that to the bank. He provides all of our needs, and He shows us things in the most surprising of circumstances.

As I heard in church the other day, in a testimony from a woman who lost everything she owned – “the name of the Lord is still higher than the name of Katrina.”

Amen, sister. Amen.

You can find the original comment here. You are now reading my response, since Mumon was SO kind as to respond with such compassion, such heartwarming concern.

Not.

I don’t apologize for the tone. I won’t, either. Suck it up. I got good and royally pissed off. I have people like him in my “Ripostes” section, with a content warning, for a reason. Times like this are why.

You know, it’s not a feeding frenzy.

Yes, yes it is.

You don’t live here. You don’t see the absolute nonsense – the pablum – that is being substituted for truth about conditions and attitudes here.

So please.. spare me the condescending “you don’t really understand” crap.

It’s retarded.

Take ownership: did you vote for Bush?

Yes? What does that have to do with whether and where a natural catastrophe hits?

You own what happened. Bush – and FEMA had authority to act even if Nagin and Blanco were utter incompetents – by law- and sat on their hands.

No, FEMA assists the local, county, and state authorities where they do not have the resources to do things on their own.

This is a common misconception. FEMA assists the local agencies in things they do not have the resources to do themselves. Such as flying in 1.5 million meals a day. Which, I might add, is being coordinated by our local National Guard commander – who is under the command of our state’s governor.

The state controls the national guard. The national guard keeps the peace where local authorities cannot. They, however, are not the responsibility, or under the authority of, the national government, on the soil of the continental United States.

FEMA assists MEMA (or LOHSEP) in emergency *management* operations. They *assist*. They do not take charge, they assist!

The Federal Government declared the disaster *before* it actually happened – an unprecedented move. The warnings issued before the emergency, both here and in New Orleans (my dad works there, mind) were the most dire I have EVER heard, and I’ve heard plenty. I’ve evacuated several times before, and stayed several times. I stayed for this one. I heard all the warnings – they begged, pleaded, did everything they could to get people out.

This is NOT anyone’s fault. It really, really pisses me off that people are actually *blaming* someone – ANYONE – for a natural disaster.

You really don’t know squat about it. You’re an armchair commentator, nowhere close to the scene. I’m right in the friggin middle of it, buster, so kindly shut your yap until you learn something – anything – about what you’re talking about.

I’ve cleaned up after two hurricanes before this one. I know what they do, and how little warning people get. We had a very short warning period for the size of the storm. The warnings were absolutely frightening, for those who live here in hurricane country. Everyone was given ample warning, however. This is a storm like NO other. Nothing has even been close. Do you really understand what the word “unprecedented” means? They’ve been using it for a reason, I promise.

Bush did worse- he did photo-ops that actually impeded aid!

Get over yourself.

A president visiting a disaster area occurs everytime there is a disaster. He visited after Ivan, after Hurricane George here, and after just about every other declared disaster in the history of the area.

Once again – the ignorance rears it’s head. Shut up. Everyone appreciated it here.

And as far as “those types of people” are concerned, (you mean African Americans?) you’ve just outed yourself.

Oh, please. Gag me with a Buick. The types of people who shoot at rescue copters. The types of people who rape women in the Convention center. The type who loot everything not nailed down.

THOSE types of people, you race-fixated dunderhead.

Noone cares about any racism conspiracy theories. What, do you think the rescue copters were flying over saying “oh, let’s pick him up – he’s white. Don’t pick him up – he’s black”?

Do you think Mississippi’s black population isn’t high, too? They are a very, very, very high percentage down here, too. It isn’t race. It’s the criminal idiocy, and crminal behavior of some elements of the population of New Orleans. That’s what “those people” is. Those people who have no morals, no decency, and did not even attempt to assist in saving, or evacuating. Just kept on doing what they always do – act like criminals. New Orleans is one of the most gang-infested cities in the nation. It is *unreal*. I know them, I have friends who have escaped the culture there. Those are who were doing these things. I recognized the modus operandi. I don’t care if they are black, white, latino, or asian – and New Orleans contains gangs of all 4 types, and others besides. The problem is the criminal behavior, not race.

Yeah, I outed myself as someone who can’t stand criminal thugs shooting at rescue copters. Boo friggin hoo.

Take a look the video here, (courtesy of this Kos diary, and you tell me, you tell the whole blogosphere, that in that situation you’d have had the courage and the sense of community and decency that Charmain Neville did.

This entire community been doing things for people. We’ve been cutting yards out, cleaning out the food rotting in refrigerators, clearing roads, and everything that needs doing. I’m the only member of a large extended family in the whole area down here. I’ve cut trees out of 5 yards now, and I’m still working on it.

That’s what we are all doing. That’s what we all have been doing for the past week and a half, while you’ve been sitting in your armchair making comments. I’m IN THIS AREA, Mumon. You aren’t within 500 miles. Maybe not even 1,000.

I *watched the hurricane come in*. I was sitting on my girlfriend’s porch, watching it, until it got too bad. I’ve been running chainsaws ever since, buddy.

The rest of the world saw this stuff, and yes, they said “racism.”

*What* racism? What is racist about a hurricane? What the HECK are you talking about? What are you comapring it to? Does the word “incomparable” mean anything to you? There is NOTHING, absolutely NOTHING comparable to this, in the recent history of this nation. 9-11 didn’t do near this damage. The city of New Orleans, the ENTIRE city of New Orleans, is gone. (Save very, very few areas) An area the size of England, the country, is devastated, beyond your wildest imaginings. The work that has been done so far is absolutely mind-boggling.

I was just down at the southern half of Diamondhead – the part near the water – yesterday. Nothing is left. Nothing. The houses there were beautiful. They were, most of them, up on stilts, in case of flooding. The posts are still up. The houses are scattered bits of kindling, strewn all over the surrounding miles.

A city I used to live in – wiped off the face of the map. Pass Christian. A city I used to work in – decimated. Long Beach. A city not even 10 minutes from my front door – flooded, devastated, destroyed. Bay St. Louis. A town I bought groceries at every month, and used to work in – wiped away. Waveland.

The town my girlfriend lives in, and I stayed the hurricane in – Gulfport – ravaged. The city where both of my brothers go to school – trashed. Biloxi. This is where I live, Mumon. My dad works in New Orleans. I JUST went to Six Flags at New Orleans, not even 3 weeks ago. The roller coasters are sitting in 3-4 feet of water, right now.

You don’t know what you’re talking aobut. Linking to a sad story does not make you an expert on all things Katrina. You have no clue, no way of getting one, and Sherlock Holmes may not be able to retrieve one for you. Shut up, sit down, and don’t even bother trying to think you know what you’re talking about.

You’re parroting all of the little talking points fed to you. Good minion. We don’t care. We’re in the midle of it, and we’re doing just fine, thanks. We don’t need handouts, we want help, freely offered. We don’t want condescension – we want compassion. We don’t want blame – we want blessings. We don’t want partisan bickering – we want prayer.

We don’t want you, we don’t need you, and we just don’t care, if that’s all you have to say. Noone down here cares.

We’re grateful, beyond grateful, to those who came to help, and for our neighbor’s help. We’re happy to help our neighbor. Those who want to play the blame game, over our heads, like we don’t hear, understand, or are incapable of it? I, personally, think you are lower than the muck I was slogging through, walking up to Wiggins the day of the Hurricane.

I don’t care what you have to say, if all you’re capable of doing is pointing fingers.

(I personally think it’s poverty, so maybe you’re only someone who hates the poor…is that what Jesus would do?)

See that video, and do the honorable thing.

Shut your mouth, and get a clue, boy. You aren’t here. You aren’t down here in the mud, the tree branches, the damage, and the rotting garbage still floating on Biloxi’s back bay. You aren’t smelling the putrid food still decaying in Gulfport’s harbor.

You aren’t running a chainsaw, cutting trees off your parent’s house, and clearing off their driveway. You aren’t waiting in line for an hour to get *into* the supermarket. Our church is out delivering food to anyone who wants it – right now. Every morning at 9 am. I’m cutting trees.

I’ll do the honorable thing, all right. I’ll tell you to get a freaking clue, get off your fat butt, and DO something, if you’re so all-fired worried about it.

That’s what WE are all doing down here, bucko. Whether in New Orleans, or in Mississippi. We don’t need your parsimonious concern, your veiled allegations, your willful neglect, or your “principled” disdain.

You’re nothing. Nothing but an armchair commentator.

I’m right in the center of Katrina Country, bub. Don’t tell ME what is happening. I’m living it.

Just to get this out of the way, before I go on to anything else:

What I feel about New Orleans, and the tarnish that elements of their population put on the entire southeastern United States, can be summed up by the comments of a member of my Church – my Sunday School teacher, actually.

“I’m actually glad Katrina hit us, too – otherwise, all of the gangbangers shooting at helicopters would be down here.”

I agree, most wholeheartedly. I would rather have the massive devastation Katrina wreaked on us, than the types of people I saw in New Orleans on the news, my one day out of the area.

It’s utterly, completely ridiculous. It’s insane. It’s also intolerable.

Second, I was completely apalled by the national media’s feeding frenzy on politics, while people were dealing with the aftermath of the largest national emergency this country has ever seen. It made me ill. It made me physically, utterly, ill.

CNN did it. ABC did it. Even Fox did it. Everything was sensationalized to score political points. Everything was reported in the worst possible light. Nothing, and I mean nothing, was painted in the light in which it actually appeared. It was painted as if to make completely sure that everyone knew that people were, indeed, depraved, and that nothing whatsoever was being done to help.

You know what? The national media has now completely, absolutely lost any vestige of respect I will ever have for their so-called “objectivity”. They are a pack of hyenas, looking for ratings, and for the most tear-jerking, heart-rending stories, so that they can keep viewers.

Screw you all.

Ahem. The local media, however – Kicker 108, the local country station, has done an absolutely MAGNIFICENT job in keeping people informed, connecting loved ones, getting the news out, and in telling us EXACTLY what we need to know. NPR has done a decent job, but they have the same problem that the national media has – they sensationalize.

The local radio stations have been absolutely awesome in the midst of disaster, and they are a real godsend.

Thank you.

Thank you to the National Guard, who has performed with excellence, with aplomb, and with a smile. Thank you to Mississippi power, who has been absolutely brilliant in restoring power to so much of the community. Thank you, especially, to the scores, hundreds, and thousands of outside power, utility, and tree workers who have done a fabulous job assisting. My hat is off to you all.

Bell South – AWESOME job in getting phone service back so fast. The cell companies have been awesome, too. Cable One, I’ve seen you all over. Great job. Red Cross, Salvation Army, local churches… the list goes on. They’ve all been fantastic. The local FEMA representatives have been great at keeping us informed, and the management of the disaster relief down here has been nothing short of spectacular.

It’s been truly awe-inspiring, watching something so devastated come back to life under the careful, skillful hands of a massive influx of technicians, managers, volunteers, and just plain hard workers.

It’s been a real blessing to watch, and a real blessing to be blessed.

The national media… they’re a pack of vultures.

Haley Barbour, the local mayors, their staffs… they’ve all been working around the clock to put us all back on our feet. President Bush’s compliments were certainly apt, when they were offered to Haley Barbour. He has really done an excellent job.

I’ve seen 98% smiles, here in Southern Mississippi – 2% frowns, 2% bad moods, 2% bad tempers, and 2% despair. 98% of the time, someone has a friendly wave, a cheerful greeting, and a smile to send you on your way.

THAT is what is REALLY happening here. Anyone else who tells you differently is out of their ever-loving mind. I’m here. I’m down on the coast as much as I can get down there, and where I am JUST got power back TODAY. So don’t even think about telling me I’m not in the middle of it. I have been. The media is scavenging horror stories – which, in most cases, are probably true. The other 98% of us – the people who can smile, laugh, wave, and still keep our temper…

We still love each other, and we prove it every day. Several people in our church lost EVERYTHING. They are loved, are being loved, and will be loved – and will be loved right back on their feet. I watched a friend break down while we talked to him, about losing his house – after his cry, he had nothing but a smile and a hug for us. He’ll be ok. We’ll make sure he is. That’s how Mississippi is doing.

We aren’t shooting at rescue copters, I’ll tell you that. We offer them whatever we have to give them – and it’s usually turned down with a smile, and a friendly wave. They’re being taken care of too.

That’s how WE do things down here.

Alright, folks.

Bethany, her family, and I all made it safe. We got stuck for a few days without a way to get out.

Bethany and I are currently in Bessamer, AL – and we JUST missed my parents, who left this morning. Frustrating, but hey.

What can you do?

We’re safe, sound – a bit travelworn, but ok.

Mom & Dad – the house is ok – the Malibu got a smallish limb in the windshield, but there is NO other damage, save a *very* few shingles.

Steve and Crystal – your house is ok, but there IS a tree on your house. It’s not bad, but we’re going to have to cut it off when you get back, if you aren’t there already. We’re buying a chainsaw while we’re up here, hopefully.

Grandpa and Grandma – your house is completely fine.

Bethany’s house had minor damage, but is still good to go.

All of bethany’s family is perfectly fine. I have some stories to tell, believe you me.

Written from a hotel computer in the lobby 😀

It’s pretty wil down there. NO power, NO phones, NO water, NO gas – but gas is *sometimes* available. Good luck finding it, though.

If you guys are thinking about going back – don’t, unless you don’t have a choice. If you do – bring supplies with you – LOTS of supplies. Okay?

Love you all!

~ Josh & Bethany

P.S. – I’ll work on stories after a shower and something to eat.

4:39 AM

These winds are gusting up to 55-60 mph, looks like. Power has flickered twice, and I’m losing my internet, off and on. I’m going to take a nap, with the phone next to my ear. (Ok, Bethany?)

My eyes are incredibly heavy. Tons of rain, tons of wind, and sorta noisy. I doubt I’ll sleep long, but I’ve been known to sleep through some crazy things.

Should hit in a few hours. Naptime, before it gets here.

3:49 AM

Ok, I spoke too soon – as soon as I posted the preceding, the wind and rain both picked up, and decided to jump up to about 3x what they were.

Internet got really spotty right after, so I’m speedtyping this. The big old trees are whipping around like they’re possessed, and the rain is coming down in discrete, ragged sheets, instead of the steady drizzle it’s been giving us all night.

Plenty of time left before this even gets close, unfortunately. I’ll keep blogging as long as I can.

3:24 AM

This isn’t going to be a Camille – but it’s going to suck.

I’m 8 miles north of Highway 90, in Gulfport – winds are picking up, and rain is getting harder. I lost internet for a few hours, but it’s back up. Quick blog, so you know what’s going on. Hancock county is getting tornadoes, Gulfport is starting to get nailed, now – it’s windy, although not hurricane force yet.

I’m here. I’m ok. I will be ok. I may not be around, internet-wise, but I’ll be here come morning. It’s going to be a wild ride – but I don’t pity Waveland/BSL/Diamondhead. They’re going to get NAILED.

Like I said – winds picking up, rain picking up, tornado warnings all over. Not here, but a lot of other places. Getting a bit noisy – may go out to check soon, in rain gear. (I’ll be careful.)

Be back in a bit, should internet connection permit!

9:45p

Wind’s about the same – clouds are circulating at a good clip, still with scattered showers.

Just found out that the side screen door wasn’t fastened, on the inside. Fixed 😀

Time to fill up the water bottles.

Yeah, I’m going to do some graphics.

9:15p

Still merely breezy. Occasional rain squalls, but short duration, and low intensity.

Small crowd on IRC, chatting.

Grabbing something to eat, and then I’ll do some graphics.

6:57p

First:

Just talked to a Sherrif’s deputy. I’m riding this one out. Someone else who reads this is likely to do so as well. They don’t have any volunteer cleanup operations planned as yet – but he told me to show up at the Lorraine Rd. station (on your left hand side, just south of I-10), if you want to help – TOMORROW NIGHT. NOT NOW, NOT UNTIL THE STORM BLOWS OVER. I’m not telling anyone to stay now, nor do I suggest it. If you want to help tomorrow, though, I’ll see you there, at some point tomorrow. After I check in with Bethany, of course!

Second:

I have a chat channel set up, on dalnet’s IRC network. Load up your IRC client (or, use trillian’s built-in IRC client), find a server on Dalnet, and join channel #katrina.

Stop by and talk.

I’ll be there until I lose power or connection. Either/or!

Alternatively, stop by my main site, and message me on any of my chat programs. Via trillian, I’m on MSN, ICQ, AIM, and Yahoo. My online status for any of the above can be seen (and I can be contacted through those, as well) on the top right.

Talk to you soon.

5:35p

Checking in from Gulfport, Mississippi, about 7 miles north of the beach.

Katrina is bearing down on the New Orleans area, and will slam into that city with some seriously devastating winds. I’m riding it out, and liveblogging what I can through the night and early morning, as power/connection allows.

This post will be updated, as long as it’s still Sunday.