A Watery Hell

Yesterday we drove down to the coast, just to the east of Biloxi in a town called Ocean Springs, where the devastation was breathtaking. The homes nearest to the coast were completely wiped out, leaving nothing but the foundation, and a few concrete support beams. Farther inland the homes were still standing, but had to be gutted because they were completely waterlogged, every imaginable thing was piled in a heap of stink on the curb, a testament to the power of the storm, to humanity, and to God, and/or whomever you blame.

How do I feel having witnessed this? Similar to how one feels at a cemetery I think. Reverence, awe, sadness, all were present and appropriate. However, there is a sense in which you don’t want to feel, there is too much pain present to allow it inside, and so you keep your distance, not able to feel what the home owner feels, as you walk among the ruins, a tourist of a watery hell.

(I"ll post some pictures when I get home)

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