Personal Narrative Essay: Hurricane Katrina

Late August of 2017, Houston’s hurricane season was coming to an end. Still recovering from the brutal summer heat, no one had expected a storm with a magnitude that Hurricane Harvey carried. A rainstorm was scheduled to come for the weekend, but nothing worrisome. It wasn’t until the newscasters announced that this small tropical storm had turned into a category four hurricane, that people started to panic. Almost overnight, gas prices had nearly doubled and grocery store shelves were emptying. After more than a week of incessant rain, tornado warnings, being homebound, and a vast amount of flood victims, the storm began to pass. Waking up to sunshine, a huge sigh of relief swept across the state. My neighborhood was lucky enough to have remained basically unscathed. My dad and I drove
We donated clothes and supplies, and were overwhelmed with the amount of service we saw. Shelters and charities had excess supplies and had to turn away volunteers. Prompted by Gordon B. Hinckley’s words, “forget yourself and go to work” I was excited for all of the service opportunities ahead. The most meaningful experience I had was volunteering in Kingwood, Texas with Mormon Helping Hands. We mucked out houses in an extremely damaged area. One home in particular belonged to an elderly woman, whose house flooded all the way to the attic. Our team completely gutted her home taking out flooring, insulation, and drywall. It was so sad to see the toll the hurricane had taken in that community. The insides of people’s home lined the streets in piles taller than me. It was humbling to see how kind everyone I interacted with was. Families walked around to the houses giving the workers lunches and water. As tragic as this storm was, it was amazing to see the community come together. Since that day, I have been more aware of prioritizing other’s needs. During the storm, I was blessed with physical safety, and more importantly