Hurricane Katrina and Mississippi's 'Invisible' Coast: A Photographic Journal

Introduction

The oft-neglected power of place was given center stage in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. With extensive media coverage of New Orleans, viewers were allowed to witness the event in real-time. They saw how minor changes in elevation and topography dictated which houses stood and which would fall. They saw how victims a few 'feet' higher in social 'elevation' were resilient while others were forced to walk a longer road to recovery.

Yet, not all places were viewed equally. At least that is the contention of many residents of Mississippi. The Sun Herald newspaper trumpeted this sentiment in its December 2005 headline, "Mississippi's Invisible Coast" (Sun Herald 2005). Their tragedy was just as real. Even after removing the catastrophe in New Orleans, Mississippi's destruction is still enough to constitute the costliest natural disaster in this country's history.

The photographs in this essay depict the three coastal counties of Mississippi-Hancock, Harrison, and Jackson (conveniently alphabetical, west to east). Taken in October 2005 by members of the Hazards Research Lab at the University of South Carolina, the images document a variety of social and physical processes and speak loudly through the apparent nothingness left behind in the wake of the storm.

Where and Who You Are

Clearly one's physical location within a Gulf Coast state, and more specifically along the coast within a storm surge inundation zone, raises the level of exposure people have vis-à-vis hurricane-related threats. Sea grasses deposited atop telephone poles and the twisted hulks of trees attest to the magnitude and intensity of Katrina's storm surge and wind speed, respectively (Figs. 1 and 2).

Social vulnerability is equally important, however. Poverty, ethnicity, gender—all are familiar descriptors that indicate differences in the resiliency of populations after disaster. Add to this list the (un)diversification of the local economy, aspects of social capital, history and culture, and other indicators, and one begins to piece together a narrative that explains how such different outcomes and experiences could exist within a narrow band of physical space.

With approximately 6,000-7,000 residents each, Waveland and Diamondhead, Mississippi, make for interesting contrasts. Physically separated by eight kilometers of development, marshland, and water, the two communities are worlds apart economically. The median household income for Waveland is approximately $33,000; in Diamondhead it is just over $51,000 (US Census 2000). Destruction was wholesale in both locations (Figs. 3 and 4). Cleanup continues in earnest in both places, but as early as February 2006 new structures (albeit several feet taller on their pilings) were visible in Diamondhead. Waveland moves at a slower pace.

Figure 1.

Storm surge levels for Katrina exceeded 9 m (30 ft) in some locations. Scour marks in trees and floating debris serve as surge height indicators.

Figure 2.

The shearing and twisting power of wind is seen near Kiln, Mississippi.

Lifelines

The vulnerability of place—the extent to which a place may suffer loss—is driven in large measure by the social and physical factors previously illustrated. Included in this interplay of natural and cultural landscapes are lifelines, important in the degree to which they are relied upon by a population. Railroads, bridges, utilities, and other like infrastructure comprise these vital networks that support communities. Each of these was disrupted significantly. Even the daily, taken-for-granted delivery of the mail was nowhere to be found (Fig. 5). Addresses, street signs, and other identifiers simply disappeared. With north, south, east, and west intermingled with each other, and piles of debris all around, one truly felt lost in a once familiar place.

Other lifelines were severed as well. In a place with seemingly little temporal security, churches—where standing—provided spiritual and physical comfort for some (Fig. 6). A gaming economy, with its

Figure 3.

The community of Diamondhead, Mississippi, lies on the northern end of St. Louis Bay. This view is towards to south.