Regarding Devastation

Four years ago I set out on a series of spontaneous road trips.  My travels took me as far east as Atlanta, south to Punta Gorda Florida, North to Fort Dodge in the Middle of Iowa, and finally westward to the Grand Canyon in Arizona.  I’d never imagined that I would become such an adept traveler in such a short time but the ways of road travel quickly became second nature to me right after August 29th 2005.  

I heard the “word” on the news almost every night, on the radio as I drove around piles of debris, and read it in the newspaper countless times in a matter of a few days.  The word- Devastation- had become as common in coastal dialogue as saying hello.  I became so rattled by this word and as I heard it over and over I began to sink into an even more depressed state of mind.  I wondered why such a bombardment of words emphasizing peril and destruction had to be used after the most traumatic event in human history had just taken place.  I started counting every time I read and heard the word used on a daily basis.  My tally of “devastations” grew exponentially every day it seemed and I had to stop myself from continuing my count after I reached  a total of 800 in only a couple of months after Katrina made her landfall.  I finally figured out that it wasn’t the fact that I’d lost everything on that day for my depressed state.  It was the constant hammer of this word into my mind and the regurgitation of loss and sorrow that I heard in every conversation along the coast.  No matter my location the conversations that I stumbled upon were all about the torment and sadness that Katrina had caused.  The conversations would almost always end with either a stoic moment or extreme emotional meltdowns.  Tears were common in all locals and brief laughter afterwards of course intending to heal the open wounds of all coastal residents by a small joke, the best medicine that anyone could give. 

In all of the chaotic meandering post- Katrina I found myself completely withdrawn from the coastal life that I knew and cherished for so many years.  I felt that the charm and quaint beauty of the coast had disappeared overnight and I feared that it may never return.  I was compelled to leave and without second thought I packed my bags and hit the road.  The echo of Jeff Lawson, news anchor for WLOX, rang in my ears with the deafening repetition of devastation, a word that made me shudder with contempt every time I heard it spoken.  I drove through the early afternoon and amidst dodging piles of broken dreams and family heirlooms tears streamed down my face.  I couldn’t stifle the sadness that I felt anymore.