Waiting for Gustav

Posting a bit early this week.... though Gustav is not predicted to blow into town before Monday, the brewing storm is already impacting gas prices, gas pump lines, traffic, grocery shopping, and work-planning, so in a few minutes of calm,with internet securely in place, power still on, and all errands run, there is time to write.

Yesterday was the three-year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina - and today, New Orleans and Gulf Coast residents are preparing for evacuation. Tomorrow, contraflow will be enacted, with highways all flowing North to speed the exodus. Unlike in 2005, there is far more planning for this storm. Buses wait all around New Orleans; Mississippi Public Broadcasting gives updates of which shelters, college campuses, camps, churches and other makeshift evacuation sites will be opening when; even here in Jackson, two hundred miles from the coast, residents are stocking up on water, flashlights, and gas. It could be that this storm will not be as bad as we fear; but no one - and certainly not government officials - wants to get caught unprepared this time around.

It's strange to wait for a hurricane. Right now it's sunny and 91 degrees. I worked this morning, got a haircut, ran errands, gave the dog a bath, vacuumed, cleared out my car, ran the dishwasher, tried to do anything that I might later regret not having done before losing power, or having all the local filling stations run out of gas (several already have), or not being able to use my water.

I keep thinking back to three years ago. I left Mississippi for graduate school in Michigan just before Katrina ravaged the state. Watching from afar, I felt almost guilty for not being there. I signed up for a recovery trip, journeying back down to Mississippi a few months after the storm. I flew into Jackson, celebrated my birthday with some friends, and then drove down to Biloxi. Driving down highway 90, through towns once familiar, I started crying and couldn't stop. My whole first day on the coast, I alternated between fighting tears and succumbing to them. And then I spent two weeks roofing houses and clearing debris. And then I left. Back to Michigan, to snow and ice, but cities intact.

I spent the summer of 2006 in Jackson, and moved back full-time in April of 2007. Neither of the last two summer saw a big storm. Somehow, I feel like I've been waiting for Gustav for three years. I hope he's a lot less exciting than I imagined him to be.

My prayers this weekend are for the safety of everyone in the storm's path. In the meantime, our senses of humor are still intact. I just received the following text message from a friend: "Hurricane party at my house tomorrow night! Bring your perishables. (FYI: Alcohol is perishable.)"