Growing up near Houston, and having inlaws in Pensacola, I've spent a LOT of my life running Interstate 10 right thru this disaster area.
It's a wild place, in that way the odd mix of heat and humidity and mossy oaks and Cajun music and swamps and the Gulf and black coffee affects you like no where else on earth. Tabasco sauce. Syrup cake. Zydeco. French spoken here. Oysters. Wonderful, big-hearted, fun-loving, hard-playing and -working people. Mardi Gras. Clifton Chenier. The Nevilles. The Meters.
Move further East to Waveland, Pass Christian, Gulfport, Biloxi, Mobile. Less Creole, more Old South, but still the Gulf influence.
In so many ways, these places were stations in my mind, where I learned so much in the fun times, the music, the food, the places. And now they shall become stations in my mind where I will learn patience, endurance, resilience, and perserverance. I only hope they know how many of us are pulling for them, and my deepest prayers are with those of you who are still awaiting word.
J o e y