Donna Barry Gives a First-Hand Account of the Devastation Left by Hurricanes Rita and Katrina

Donna Barry, director of MSU's Health Center, was deployed last month by FEMA to the town of Cameron, Louisiana, to provide medical and mental health relief to victims of Hurricanes Rita and Katrina. Her experience was an eye opener to the devastation and destruction caused by natural disasters, and also an in-depth look at the resilience carried by one community coping with the physical and emotional aftermath.

"I have yet to find one word that can encompass my experience," said Barry. "Frustrating, personally challenging, heart-breaking, but also one of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had." When she first arrived, Barry said that from the highways, the damage seemed to be minor, but she soon realized the significant structural impact caused by Rita.

"It was far more difficult to see than I expected and beyond description," she said. "The town is virtually gone. The 20-foot storm surge seemed to have the same effect as a tsunami--moving almost everything in its path inland up to 15 miles and scattering it through marshlands and bayou filled with snakes and alligators."

For the citizens of Cameron, a "look and leave" program was implemented in order to allow the homeowners time to salvage any possessions they had left. "It is hard to comprehend what these people must be feeling when they return to their property to discover there is nothing to recover," Barry said. "The only thing left of their lives prior to the hurricane are memories. All that is tangible is gone."

Barry stayed for two weeks, working with the Christus St. Patrick Hospital located in Lake Charles. "St. Patrick’s was the most structurally sound building left. Twenty-five employees from the hospital stayed and rode out the storm. They said the negative pressure from the storm was so severe, you could actually see the windows bending inward." 

What struck Barry the most was the unbreakable faith of all within the community. "I never saw any anger in regards to the devastating circumstances they were dealing with," she said. "They would come up to us and let us know how grateful they were to have us here. I truly loved the people and culture; a part of me did not want to leave. I still have a strong emotional link to the people I worked with."

Barry's time in the parish of Cameron left a lasting impression."I think it tremendously increased my awareness of the multiple levels of need from the disaster. What I am finding is that I still feel relatively disconnected to the real world. It's harder than I thought to let go and get back to normalcy."

During her time in Louisiana, Barry recorded her thoughts and experiences in a journal. Here are some excerpts:

10/5/05 – Deployment Day
The two-hour drive from Houston Airport on Rt. 10 to Lake Charles brought back horrible memories of 9/11.  In the days after the attacks I remember driving Rt. 80 to work each day seeing empty dump trucks heading toward Ground Zero. In the evening the dump trucks would be going west filled with debris from the World Trade Center. It was a constant reminder of that day. The scene today was different but in many ways just the same. The highway going back to Houston was virtually empty with an occasional car abandoned on the side of the road. I’ve heard stories of many people running out of gas during the evacuation due to the high demand. However the traffic heading toward the hurricane areas was heavy--filled with trucks loaded with building supplies and generators as well as caravans of utility trucks from all over the United States responding to the area. Whether a natural or man-made disaster, the devastation and need remain the same.

10/11/05 – Tuesday, Day 7
I never realized how unbelievably long two weeks could be! Tomorrow is the half way mark and I must admit I am homesick for friends and family. I was able to go to Cameron today with a police escort to get a sense of what the residents of that area have experienced. Only cement slabs remain where wooden structures once stood. Occasionally there would be a set of stairs leading up to a home that had disappeared. There were alligators watching us in the storm-created canals along the highway entering Cameron. My accommodations back in Lake Charles feel like the Hilton right now.  It is hard to comprehend what these people must be feeling.

10/19/05 – Wednesday, Day 15
It is hard to understand why I feel so ambivalent today about going home. As much as I miss home I've become so imbedded into the lives and culture of these victims that I want to stay as well. There is still such a need here for medical and mental health assistance and yet I long to return to normalcy. I think it will be a relatively slow process before I can process the experiences of the last two weeks and feel 100-percent connected to my "real" life.