Pearlington: A Severely Ravaged Peaceful Place

Most people I spoke with remember past floods in New Orleans, or at least have older relatives who do. Along the Mississippi coast, people similarly compared their Katrina experiences with those decisions they each carried out while bracing for past hurricanes Ivan (2004), Camille (1969) and Betsy (1965).

Few in Katrina's path were prepared for what there could be no complete preparation for. But Pearlington caught waters so high and so unexpected, Katrina destroyed buildings that had stood undisturbed for 150 years and more. She sent whole families and their dogs high into the mature oak and pine trees, after their rooftops finally disappeared under the water. Most also share stories of every snake and spider in the area joining them, all clamoring for the same non-existent high ground.

If severely ravaged, Pearlington was a peaceful place. The Pearl River, one block away, reflected beautiful sunsets. Baby alligators lay in the sun and watched us work. And then there were the bugs. Any minute of any day warmer than 67° F, microscopic biting gnats were a swarming pestilence. We began to think anyone who lived anywhere with bugs this bad had to be insane. They all assured us, however, that the storm's tumult had brought on the worst sand gnat hatching season in 40 years.

Pearlington is where Burners Without Borders finished our Katrina days until April, when equipment was returned, donated or stored, and our waiting lives were finally resumed or rebuilt elsewhere. During our couple of months there, we lead "memory art" workshops for the kids at the disaster relief community center that used to be their local school.