If you follow my Twitter, you may have noticed that the Great Flood of 2016 hit my hometown of Port Vincent. It’s been an emotional week. It’s heartbreaking to see all these landmarks and homes underwater, completely ravished by Mother Nature. I have friends and family who have lost everything. This week has been filled with trips down to Port Vincent and Denham Springs to deliver supplies and to check on loved ones.
How anyone can say global warming is a myth after all this crazy weather is beyond me–if you still believe that, shame on you.
My dad lost power and his cell phone battery died. I wasn’t able to get in touch with him, so I used Facebook to contact people to ride down in boats to go check on him. I can’t say how thankful I am that those people took the time and effort to do so. Our community is amazing.
I have to say, though, that we were lucky. Even though I reside in New Orleans now, my childhood home is in Port Vincent, and my dad lives there. Lots of memories in that house. I am still in complete shock, but extremely grateful that the house did not get *any* water in it whatsoever. The Old Beer Box, a neighborhood bar that is situated in front of our house, had waist-deep water in it. I do not know how our house didn’t get flooded. Maybe my dad did some sort of voodoo ritual. Maybe the house is guarded by an angel. I don’t know. But I’m thankful.
I’ll try to post some pictures here soon. Right now, it’s still making me ill looking at flooded places around Port Vincent.
Needless to say, this has been the first time I’ve written anything other than an email in two weeks. But I’m determined to get back to it. There’s lots to write. And especially since Black Feathers Falling is set in Louisiana, I need to do the story and its setting some justice. Living here is bittersweet, and the story will reflect that.