Southern Comfort RV Park, Fox's RV Park - Open for Business in Biloxi, MS...

by Anne Pierson
Happy Camper Discount Camping Club
This summer, my husband, Bob, and I had pretty much decided we were going to have to take our quarters to Tunica, MS to enjoy any casinos. The Mississippi Coast (our favorite playground) is no more....
Just on a whim, (or maybe to settle one of those husband/wife bets), I called Southern Comfort RV park in Biloxi, our usual hangout, and got some amazing news. They are open for business...

Winning the bet wasn't enough, though. I quickly reminded him that Fox's RV Resort, one of our Happy Camper parks, was in operation as well. It's true that last time I spoke with them they were full of FEMA workers - but there is hope that some tiny green sprigs have begun to come to life on a sad, desperate landscape that used to be my home town.

Hurricane Katrina stopped by to wipe everything out in late August 2005. We were camping on the coast the day before she arrived. We had Jerry Lee Lewis tickets at the Grand Casino, my mom (who still lives on the coast) was recovering from hip surgery, and we were checking in on her, enjoying a relaxed week, and eating some great food when we heard about Katrina.

No one got very excited. The Category 3 hurricane was being tracked, residents yawned and shrugged. Most of them still had their windows boarded from a false alarm a few weeks before, and we continued to enjoy the time off. I sat contentedly in the passenger seat, driving along Beach Boulevard, and the kids took turns picking out the sprawling antebellum homes they would like to own. "That one's mine!" Deb would say. Daniel would argue, "That one is way cooler," pointing to a more modern beach-style home in stucco. The beaches were filled with Louisiana weekenders, striped red and white umbrellas, jet skis, sailboats, and dogs running at the edge of the tide. The malls were crowded, the traffic was bumper to bumper, and our Mexican dinner was loud and fun. As we left the restaurant, Bob complained to the waiter about the heat, and the waiter told him, "Don't worry. There's a big hurricane coming, so we'll get some rain. This is a big one." We smiled and went back to the RV. Hurricanes are just part of the summer here.

The news that night got our attention. The hurricane was now a Category 4, traveling slowly, wide and powerful and gathering strength, scheduled to make landfall by Monday. This was Friday.

By Saturday morning, it was serious. Having grown up on the coast, survived many hurricanes without a scratch, and having actually enjoyed the excitement of impending storms, I wished we could stay, but knew the RV was no place to be in a hurricane. As the news unfolded, I called my mother and before I could say the words, she said, "I think I better go home with y'all." I kicked off my new strappy sandals, switched to my "pack-up-the-campsite" sneakers, and set off to get some things for my mom - and to gather Mom herself. We were worried about the trip for her, as she was still healing and couldn't sit, stand, lay down, or even stay awake comfortably yet. Still, we didn't want to leave her in her house. If nothing else, she would be without electricity, and she couldn't drive to get meals. We never thought the worst could happen, but it would be "inconvenient" for her to be home in a post-hurricane atmosphere.

By noon, we left for Monroe, Louisiana. Our home is 250 miles north of the coast, a great place to evacuate to escape a hurricane, and we planned on taking Mom back later the next week. This was just a precaution.

For now, I will spare you the horror of the next week from the front lines. Suffice it to say that we were frozen in front of the TV, glued to the internet blogs from New Orleans, and frantic to reach other members of the family. It was the longest ten days I have ever lived, and I think we all aged ten years.

My mom was with us for two months. There was no coast to return to, certainly no power, no roads to drive on, a hole in the roof of three of her rooms, a demolished yard, a car she could not drive even if she were mended, because a tree was blocking it into the carport. And she was one of the lucky ones...

We returned to the coast the third week of October, and before I begin to tell you about the fascinating process of rebuilding, you should know two things:

1. Everything was smashed. Every single thing.

2. Everything south of the railroad tracks (along my beautiful Beach Boulevard) was so smashed that the National Guard was posted to guard all access to the beach and keep everyone out.

The picture I have attached is from sixty miles north of the coast, and none of these include the worst area, the beaches, because no one has been allowed to go there... until this last few weeks - FIVE MONTHS after Katrina.

I personally haven't been there yet to tour the beach. I will be doing that when we return from the Quartzsite RV Show early next month.

I will be gone for a few weeks, and when I return - I will get to the rest of the story...

Anne Pierson
president Happy Camper Club
Join 1/2 price camping today at http://www.camphalfprice.com/index.php?ref=15



(Please email comments or stories about RVs in Katrina to HappyCamping10@aol.com)