Pearlington Mississippi-Katrina Ground 0

Burners Without Borders Rebuilds Town of 1000

Half a year after Hurricane Katrina Burners Without Borders moved their camp to a cement slab that was formerly the Pearlington Mississippi Post Office, which used to house a zip code no longer found in the United States Postal Service system. The post office building itself, along with the rest of the town, was still broadly distributed throughout the swamp and trees.

Pearlington lay as it had settled the day after the storm. If Katrina's broad smear of a storm path had a Ground Zero, Pearlington, Mississipi and its closest coastal neighbors were it. This is where the eye hit the mainland and passed directly over the small town of less than 1,000 people, about three swampy, snapped-forest miles up from the mouth of the Pearl River.

Past floods along the Mississippi coast were the result of hurricanes Ivan (2004), Camille (1969) and Betsy (1965). Pearlington caught waters so high and so unexpected, Katrina destroyed buildings that had stood undisturbed for 150 years.

She sent whole families high into the mature oak and pine trees, after their rooftops finally disappeared under the water. Every snake and spider in the area joined them, clamoring for the same non-existent high ground. The Pearl River, one block away, reflected beautiful sunsets. Baby alligators lay in the sun. The storm's tumult had brought on the worst sand gnat hatching season in 40 years.

Burners Without Borders led "memory art" workshops for the kids at the disaster relief community center that used to be their local school. They joined the locals in their weekly karaoke nights at the only open business for miles around, a tent bar along I-90, which offered two slot machines and Miller's High Life as a "foreign beer."

Utilizing the endless and rich supply of storm debris, in keeping with Burning Man tradition, the group ceremoniously burned sculptures over the fire pit.Some town's folk continued this Saturday night gathering after their departure.

They painted a sign saying Welcome to Pearlington made from a 2-foot long rubber alligator and ornate wooden carvings dating from the 1850s, which had been salvaged from destroyed furniture. They stealthfully dug and cemented the sign deep into the ground at the I-90 crossroads, tamped the ground, placed a few planter logs, pulled a few weeds, and someone added scrubs and flowers within 24 hours. A family pledged to recoat it with sealant every year.