I've got some ocean front property...

I'll never forget my first visit to Gulfport, MS. I drove down in May of 2004 with my best friend, Vee, who was engaged to her now husband, Todd. We went down over Memorial Day weekend so that I could see this place that she would soon be calling home. We spent the weekend touring the area and seeing all the towns along the Gulf Coast. We went from Pascagoula to New Orleans, from the mega-casinos (or casina's as they are called in MS) of Biloxi to the charming towns of Long Beach, Pass Christian, and Bay St. Louis. My eight hour tour gave me a good understanding of what the area looked like. A bit of the culture. And a glimpse of the people.

My second trip was in July of that year. I braved the sweltering heat and larger than life mosquitos and sent my best friend off to live in a new world. To be a part of a new group of people who knew me as nothing more than "her friend from Kentucky." I met more people. I had a sense of knowing my way around, just a little bit more than before. I knew the landmarks. I knew how to say "Pass Christian." I liked the people I met. I loved the houses even more.

The third trip was in February of 2005. Our threesome completing best friend, NB-C, and I went for a long weekend of fun. We were there, together. NB-C had not been to Gulfport so she got the tour. It seemed like second nature to me by that trip. I knew the landmarks. Knew the familiar places. We took her to Annie's in Bay St. Louis. The bar/restaurant that we had gone to each trip before. The place that I loved. We spent hours at the Grand Casino in Biloxi. We had lunch at the Napoleon House in New Orleans. We drank, laughed, ate, made friends and won $20 effortlessly. We met more people. We were invited into their homes. We were welcomed. And I began to see the spirit of the Gulf Coast emerge.

On August 27, I got a call from Vee while I was driving down Chinoe Road with NB-C. We were in the car and Vee was talking about this hurricane that seemed to be headed their way. I laughed. Last I had heard it was just a tropical storm. Surely everything would be fine. And over the next two days I came to learn what scared me the most. It wasn't going to be fine. In fact, it was going to be worse than I could ever imagine. Todd was gone and Vee was boarding up the house deciding whether or not to stay. Glued to CNN, I was on the phone with her when I heard them say "175 mile-an-hour winds."

Get out. Time to get out.

Todd calls and says the same.

Get out. Time to get out.

That day will be etched in my memory forever. I was making homeade spaghetti sauce that day. It was rainy. That day as I watched the impending doom. Talked to Vee who was scared and who was evacuating to Jackson. Fox News. CNN. Anything. Tell me more. Hear it in her voice. She's scared. I'm scared. All those people that I had come to know. All those places I had seen and been to. Todd & Vee's house. Would they have a house. Everything was like I was right there. CNN. Fox News. Anything. Tell me more.

...that place so unfamiliar just a year and a half before...

We know what happened on August 29, 2005. She destroyed, everything. She took away the homes of the people I had met. She took away the places I had been. She came with swift fury.

I watched the news, religously. I didn't like being away from the radio, Internet or TV. I felt completely helpless. I feel like I rode out a storm hundreds of miles away with nothing but a telephone and my best friend at the end of the line. Helpless to do anything but relay information.

I saw the video footage Todd took just days after the storm. Watched that a couple weeks later while Vee was here and the news was still talking about the flooding in New Orleans. This was different than New Orleans. I knew that. But I didn't really know.

I went back for the fourth time over New Years. What better of a place to say good ridance to a crappy year than in the place that knew the true meaning of that. I got off the plane and smelled the familiar air and knew that when I opened my eyes there would be no words to describe this place I had come to know. It was just gone. Gone.

Biloxi.
Gulfport.
Destroyed.
Long Beach.
Pass Christian.
Waveland.
Bay St. Louis.
Gone.
Overwhelming.

The loss and the suffering is more than you can imagine. It is nothing, nothing, like what you see on television. People lost everything. It fills you with sadness.

And yet, what remains is that same familiar spirit I had begun to notice in my prior trips. We will survive. We will remain steadfast. We will not surrender. Every conversation I overheard, from each person affected in a different way, you could hear the same in their voice. United. Strong. We will survive. We will remain steadfast. We will not surrender.

And I understood. All the doubt I had in the prior months of why you would stay in a place like that was gone. I understood. I understood. I understood.

There are times in your life where you may feel defeated in every way. In every sense of feeling or being defeated. But the human spirit is strong and it is resiliant. It is kind. It is full of hope...and love. The human spirit can and will endure. The human spirit is present all around, and you can feel it. It's contagious. It whispers...

Stay.