Nineteen years ago, I was sheltering at the Best Western in Wiggins, Mississippi with my family as Hurricane Katrina ripped open the world around me.
I was 16 years old, and my mom worked as the manager of the hotel, which was completely booked with people from Pascagoula to Bay St. Louis. Wiggins was a small town, but the first you’d reach heading north from the Gulf Coast, so those evacuating reached our community before anyone else.
Emotions ranged from nervous to grief-stricken as the storm shook the hotel. Most of us knew the storm on top of us would reshape our communities forever.
Everyone was afraid. Except me.
Well, not at first.
I was excited.
I had long been fascinated, even obsessed, with weather. I even forced open the glass doors at one of the exits so that I could go outside and dance in the storm. For the rest of my life I’ll be able to boast that I danced in the 150 mph winds of Hurricane Katrina.
My experience turned from enthused curiosity to dread during the many hours th…
