After working at the Auxiliary Support Branch shelter for hurricane Katrina
survivors for three weeks, my papa was required to take a day off. He and
the other volunteers would usually only get five or six hours of sleep every
night, and the people in charge were worried about it becoming unsafe. He
had made some friends there, but they had already taken their required time
off. He was part of a group of holdouts, which means he resisted doing this,
but the bosses weren’t going to allow him to stay any longer. He got into a
car with four other people who decided to drive along the coast. They
couldn’t think of anything better to do. The hurricane had destroyed so
much, companies weren’t showing movies, or doing county fairs, or anything
like that. Driving was the only activity. They ended up driving so much that
they crossed into two other states. The first stop they made was in
Mississippi, where they had lunch outside. He couldn’t remember where they
ate, but I remember him telling me that he thought he had a burrito
sandwich, which I guess would be a little burrito between two slices of
bread? He laughed when he told me this story, like maybe he just made that
part up. Once they were done, they were going to just drive back to drive
back to Slidell, Louisiana, but they decided to keep going. It was kind of
cool that he got to see Alabama. Remember that he was born there, but his
family lived in Montana at the time, so he didn’t have any real memories of
it. They saw a lot of destruction during this part of the trip; more than
they had in the shelter, and it really saddened them. It does sound very
sad.
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