Ernestine Sharp Narrative

My grandmother, Ernestine Sharp, was more than prepared for Hurricane Katrina. She stated that we already had supplies, resources, and gas. She picked the safest spot in the house we had and brought my sister here to make sure that she would be safe as well. My grandmother knew what needed to be done as far as keeping us alive. One might think that we were probably better off than most. My grandfather, her husband, and my father died only a short while before Katrina. Loss was nothing new to us; yet, we were still not at all prepared for the emotional turmoil that August would bring. My grandmother explained that it happened throughout the night. The next morning there were trees and telephone poles down as far as she could see and no one
was able to get out of our neighborhood. Thankfully, a neighbor came by to check on us and eventually cut through it all so that we could leave. My aunt, her daughter, was able to make it to our home at this point for comfort and support.
“ I remember it being hot, it was so hot.”she said. It was too hot to stay inside and it was too hot to be outside. She knew we needed power so we headed to Jackson, Mississippi to attempt to find a generator. Home Depot had one left and it was the one they had on display. Luck was seemingly on our side. Thinking things were going to start looking up, we were going to head back home but my grandmother was suddenly ill. We sat in the hospital waiting room all night while they gave her fluids. At this point in the aftermath it made sense for dehydration to become an issue, but at least we were finally able to come home.
“Unfortunately,” she said “ the generator ran on propane and it ran out as quickly as it filled up and we were without electricity once again. And at that point it was the hottest it had ever been.” My grandmother went to Franklinton, having finally regained her strength again, to get gas. Our home was no longer liveable with such heat. We were going to Pensacola, Florida to stay with her step daughter until things got better in Bogalusa. She said as we were leaving that she had never seen so many hummingbirds in her life. They were everywhere; undoubtedly trying to find solace just as we were.
On the eighteenth day of Katrina, we shut everything off in our house and left for Pensacola. She claimed we were, almost immediately, called back for my younger sister. My grandmother’s daughter was just arrested, leaving her child, my sister, alone at a police station, waiting to be claimed. My aunt took my sister to our home and waited until we could be there. We did not hesitate to turn around, for another life changing moment had just taken place.
By the time we arrived, the power had come back to most of our neighborhood, “...but the mess of the city still remained.” My grandmother pauses after having just told me, for the first time in such depth, our full Katrina story, “ I know one thing though, I’ll never stay for a storm like Katrina ever again.”