Driveway to Nowhere

We're back from Biloxi, where Milady and I had a thoroughly refreshing experience. Sobering, yet refreshing.



This is a Google Earth shot of the place we were staying in Biloxi. The Isle of Capri Casino is most easily identified by the blue roof in the bottom center of the photo. That blue roof is their parking garage. You can click on the pictures for a larger view.



This shot is taken from the hotel, to the north-northeast. Notice the driveways from the highway, leading to nothing. Total devastation.



The destroyed bridge in this photo is the bridge crossing the bay. That is US Hwy 90, the main east-west route along the Gulf. Totally destroyed. Every slab of concrete was knocked off the bridge and into the Gulf waters. These scenes repeat themselves all along the coast.

One thing that I noticed was the resilience of the people. At those spots where people intend to remain, there would be the driveway, a pile of debris, a clean slab, and a travel trailer parked on the slab. People living on their land, covering their ground. The travel trailers were often the ubiquitous FEMAtorium's, or less often, a private brand trailer with slide-outs. Either way, those people were home. Starting over, making life better.

I was struck by the difference that a couple of feet elevation made, or the difference that might be caused by the height of a house. The structures close to the shore were hit hard. The structures in the next block were hit less hard. The stuctures four blocks away were pretty much okay.



These two houses were about a block from the Gulf. The brown house on the right was damaged severely. Notice the travel trailer parked out back. The white house in the trees behind it had some superficial damage. When we stopped to snap this photo we noticed that the white house is inhabited, and people were moving around in the yard. The difference of four of five feet elevation and the shelter of the trees made a world of difference.

It'll take me a while to think about what I have seen and the lessons I should draw from it. I went to Biloxi with some preconcieved notions and came away with an altered understanding. I went thinking that I knew, and came away knowing that I can think.