My Hurricane Katrina Story

The air was heavy that August, the kind of heat that makes the city feel like it’s holding its breath. We all knew a storm was coming, but in New Orleans, storms are part of the rhythm of life — you would watch Bob Breck on FOX 8, you stock up on water, and you wait and ride it out. Katrina was different. 

 I didn’t know it then, but within days, some of the people I loved most would lose everything they had ever built. Their homes would sit in silence under water, family photos curling at the edges, furniture swollen and split. I was spared the worst of it, but I watched the storm strip away entire lifetimes in a matter of days — and I’ve carried those images both mentally and physically for twenty years.

The Day Before

August 28th, 2005. 5AM. I was awoken by my mother with a suitcase on top of me. As I opened my eyes and noticed the suitcase, she looked at me and said “get up we have to leave now”. At 9 years old I didn’t know what was happening around me, but I had a sense it was serious. I was just a small little third grader that had to grow up fast at this point. 

As I gathered some of my possessions my dad was watching Bob Breck on Fox 8 while game planning with my uncle over where we would all evacuate to. To sum up what Bob Breck said…”get out and fast”. 

We all met at my grandmother’s house around 6AM. I can remember the look on everyone’s face and it was a look I had not seen on any family member’s face before including my dad. Fear.

The game plan was simple; evacuate Slidell and head to Texas. It would be the first time I had ever left the state of Louisiana in my life. A very long 14 hour drive to a tiny dot on the map in Texas known as Mt. Pleasant, which is where my uncle booked the hotel rooms for everyone. 

Some of the details of the evacuation were a little hazy to me as I was very young at the time. So I asked my mother and father to fill in some of the blanks. 

“We took a lot of back roads to avoid the traffic” my mother said, “we went up and through Mississippi then back through Louisiana through Shreveport then finally making it to Mt. Pleasant where we stayed for a few days”. 

“We took every back road known to man” my father added in, “ your uncle took us all over the damn place to avoid the traffic”. That he did. It truly was quite the drive.

 My mother was in her car driving in front of my father and I as we followed behind her and the other members of the family. This 14 hour hour drive was one of the most quiet car rides with my father I have ever experienced in my life. I could just sense the fear while we convoyed all the way to Texas. I could just remember looking every so often at his face as he drove and it was just ghostly. 

We finally arrived at our destination. A Best Western hotel. The time we all arrived escapes me, but I can remember it being really late. We didn’t even unpack our suitcases. Everyone was feeling so jetlagged from the drive just went to sleep.

August 29, 2005

It was around 6AM. My family and I were piled into one Best Western hotel room. Everyone was probably only on a couple hours of sleep. My dad had turned on the TV and turned on the local news for the area. It was happening before our eyes. Hurricane Katrina had made her made landfall. Destroying everything in sight. Flood waters that covered whole neighborhoods. 

Seeing the live television footage of Katrina devastating our home state just made everyone go completely silent, which if you knew my family it was unheard of. 

The thoughts started to reign on everyone’s minds…will we have a home to go back to? Would I see any of my friends again? Loved ones? A lot of questions that no one, especially me, had the answers to at that point in time. The only thing we knew was Slidell was under water, but we eventually had to go back. 

My Dad and Uncle were essentially leading the charge for everything, and the next move was to leave Texas to head back to Louisiana the next morning, but not our home in Slidell just yet. Lafayette, Louisiana which is where my Aunt’s brother was located. 

Back to Louisiana

As everyone gathered their things from the hotel room we convoyed to Lafayette. It was our first time seeing Louisiana since Katrina made her landfall. As my Dad followed my mother in this convoy I looked out the window as I normally would, but this time what I was seeing felt out of the ordinary. As I kept peeking out the window I would see trees broken in half as if a mythical giant creature just lifted them up and broke them across its knees. It was a strange sight. 

Many hours later we arrived in Lafayette. We stayed at my Aunt’s (not blood) brother’s house for about a week and a half. My family and I piled into an RV that someone who was also staying there happily obliged us to sleep in and use while we were there. There were times I slept in the RV, but there were times where I would have to sleep on an air mattress in these people’s sun room as well. 

While in Lafayette, My Dad and Uncle took a trip back home to Slidell. Asking if I can come with and of course my Dad said “No, stay here with your mama”. They left to go check on everything. My mother and I waited anxiously for their return.

The way my Dad told me this story was that it was eerily calm outside in a scary way. It was a quiet car ride there he mentioned. If you know my Uncle and Dad then you know that would be ludicrous for those two not to talk at all. The story goes on further. 

As they crossed into Slidell, you could see water marks where the flood waters stopped. Trees were absolutely demolished and thrown everywhere. They first checked my grandmother’s house. A tiny bit of water damage, nothing too serious. A few other friend’s and relative’s houses. Then came the last two. My uncle’s house and my parent’s house. 

My dad said he had to kick open the door to my uncle’s Slidell home. After kicking the wet and withered door down. Looking around… everything was destroyed. The house had suffered severe flood damage. Flood waters had reached the ceiling of his house. Nothing was salvageable. 

Then came the last house that needed to be checked. My parent’s house.

As my dad and uncle drove to my parent’s house, many big trees and branches were in the road, but that didn’t stop my dad. The way my dad tells it “We had to park a few blocks down our street” he said, “I was hurdling trees like a track star to get to our house, you should’ve seen me”.

 When he arrived, he saw the old tree lying across the front porch, its massive branches sprawled out like a protective shield. It had missed my parents’ house by just inches, close enough to feel like a warning but merciful enough to leave the home standing. 

A neighbor came over and told my dad the floodwaters had stopped just five streets over, as if the storm had decided to spare us. He stood in the front yard for a long while, staring at the house, and all he could think was that it wasn’t luck…it was a miracle.

My uncle and dad returned to Lafayette later that day to give my mother and aunt the news about damages and everything in between. As usual it was always bad news and good news. 

My dad goes on to say “After another couple more days in Lafayette I told the lady hey thanks for the hospitality but it’s time for us to get the stepping” my mother added “Yeah we just had to come home after that, it was time”. 

We finally arrived back home. I was able to see everything with my own eyes again. The tree that had fallen, and everything just thrown all over the place Katrina’s massive winds. It definitely silenced me. Everyone talks about the smell that followed Katrina’s passing. It was a smell that you can’t even begin to describe. But eventually it went away. 

For a few weeks things were a little hectic to say the least.

I can remember waiting in line with my mother for MREs. The Red Cross and National Guard were handing them out in one of the parking lots nearby. We lived on MREs for a little while until the stores opened back up. It was a different way to live, but we were strong and managed well.

The one thing that always made me happy even in these crazy hectic moments where I was silent, I was in my Slidell home again. Sleeping in my own bed. It truly was a miracle. We survived. We survived the monster known as Katrina.

20 Years Later

It’s hard to believe twenty years have passed since Hurricane Katrina tore through Southern Louisiana, leaving scars that time could never fully erase. I often find myself remembering life before the storm, a life that feels distant, almost like another world.

 Nothing was ever quite the same after—some changes were painful, others unexpectedly gave way to strength. Yet through it all, one truth stands out: we endured. We weathered the unthinkable, we survived the storm that tried to break us, and in doing so, we discovered just how resilient we truly are. 

Every day, I thank God that my parents’ home was spared, and I carry with me the reminder that even in the face of destruction, hope and faith can anchor us.

Resilience. The dictionary defines it as the ability to adapt and bounce back from adversity, trauma, or significant stress rather than being overcome by it. But resilience is more than just a word on a page—it’s something you feel deep in your bones when life tests you in ways you never imagined. 

In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, resilience was not a choice; it was survival. It was neighbors helping neighbors, families clinging to one another, and communities rebuilding from nothing but rubble and faith. To live through a storm like that and still stand today to tell the story is proof that resilience is not about avoiding hardship—it’s about enduring it, and finding the strength to rise again. 

Disclaimer: All photos used in the article are the property of Logan Graffia.

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