You would think that 36 years would be enough time to prepare for the next Catagory Five hurricane. My heart and support go out to victims of the hurricane but I can’t help but feel cynical about the lack of prepration for such an event. It’s not like this has never happened before…
This is a story from Time magazine, August 29, 1969, right after Hurricane Camille struck Lousianna and Mississippi on August 17th, 1969. If you replace Camille with Katrina, the story has an eerie ring to it…
From the Time.com archive 1969…
EIGHT or ten times each year, the southeast coast of the U.S. is struck by hurricanes. Born over the warm seas of the Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico, these large cyclonic systems result from a peculiar blend of heat, winds, atmospheric pressure and moisture. Anywhere from 100 to 800 miles across, they rage north toward Cuba or Florida, assaulting everything in their path. Usually, however, they dissipate before they do too much damage, or veer out to sea. Only one out of four hit the U.S. They are ordinary enough so that they are systematically named, always after women—Beulah, Flora, Dora.
Last week the Caribbean produced a homicidal harridan with the deceptively gentle name of Camille. Camille visited on the Southeastern U.S. wind, rain, and floods of such unexpected scale that Dr. Robert Simpson, head of the National Hurricane Center in Miami, called it "the greatest storm of any kind that has ever affected this nation, by any yardstick you want to measure with."
In its five-day juggernaut, Camille left 300 dead and hundreds missing in five states. The death toll was expected to top 500 as floodwaters receded from inundated farms, shattered towns and cities. President Nixon designated coastal areas of Mississippi and Louisiana disaster areas, and was asked to do the same for Virginia.
Torrents of Rain. Killer Camille wreaked her greatest havoc where first she struck: the southern coast from Mobile to south of New Orleans. She slowed down as she sliced up through Mississippi and Tennessee, then unexpectedly exploded into torrents of rain that sluiced through mountain gorges in West Virginia and Virginia before finally swirling out into the Atlantic to die.
Camille blew harder than any hurricane recorded, and the barometer dropped to 26.61 inches, the lowest since a 1935 Florida hurricane. The storm was the deadliest killer since 1957, when Hurricane Audrey took 500 lives in the Gulf area.
Camille signaled her arrival by suddenly turning the Gulf Coast sky charcoal at midday. By 11 p.m., the wind had risen and the barometer had plummeted. Riding waves 22 feet high, throwing rain hard as bullets on its 210 m.p.h. winds, Camille hurled herself at the Louisiana and Mississippi shoreline, uprooting, ravaging, killing in her awesome kinetic fury. In one fearful night, at least 235 were killed. Property damage was estimated at $1 billion. Cars and houses were smashed like toys, trucks tumbled end over end, giant freighters tossed about and beached. For a time, the ocean reclaimed as much as six blocks of Pass Christian, Gulfport and other hapless Mississippi towns.
Storm Ripped. Gulfport was in ruins, and dozens of other Mississippi towns were severely damaged. The storm ripped up trees, roads and bridges and threw three cargo ships onto Gulfport piers. The hardest-hit town was Pass Christian. More than 100 bodies were found sprawled in the mud of the town of 4,000, and one entire family of 13 was killed. Every house was damaged. Swirling water gouged into a cemetery, ripped open coffins and deposited their ghoulish contents in treetops. A brick building 200 yards from the beach, the Richelieu Apartments, was leveled to its foundation along with other steel and concrete buildings. In the rubble, 23 bodies were found, among them twelve people who, hours before, had ignored warnings to evacuate and gathered instead for a cozy hurricane party.
For survivors, chaos reigned along the coast. There was no gas, electricity or drinking water. Roads were impassable, railroads washed out, telephone lines down. The stench of death was everywhere. Victims’ bodies were found in bushes, trees and rooftops; dead animals were scattered along the coast. Medicine was scarce, and there were fears of a typhoid epidemic. Pascagoula, Miss., was invaded by hundreds of poisonous cottonmouth snakes flooded out of swamps.
Looters and black-marketeers added to the misery. Gasoline and drinking water were sold for $1 a gallon and bread for 50¢ a loaf, until authorities began arresting profiteers. Limited martial law was declared along the Mississippi coast, and National Guardsmen were sent into parts of Mississippi and Alabama to prevent theft.
Survivors managed as best they could, sleeping in automobiles or gutted buildings, drinking warm beer when water was not available. Refugee centers were packed, with victims eating in emergency kitchens. The Red Cross and Salvation Army provided some relief, and the Federal Government sent in 800,000 pounds of food.
Camille was not yet exhausted, however, The hurricane poured up to ten inches of rain on the mountains of Virginia and West Virginia, leaving 62 dead and 110 missing from flash floods. Massies Mill, Va., was destroyed by the rampaging Tye River. "The excessive rainfall took us completely by surprise," said one U.S. meteorologist. Surprise also added to the toll on the Gulf Coast, where it had been thought that Camille was headed for Florida. So, however, did overconfidence in the face of the storm. "Most of these people have been through hurricanes before, and we had no reason to expect that this one would be so bad," said Pass Christian Mayor J. J. Wittmann.
Spoil the View. Warning or no, adequate seawalls, jetties and breakers had not been built along much of the Gulf Coast. The area depends on tourism, said George Metz of the Mississippi Division of Law Enforcement, and "they don’t want to spoil the view by putting up a seawall." Some residents’ apathy was shaken, however. Said a weary beach-house survivor: "From now on, when they say ‘hurricane,’ I’m heading north and I ain’t gonna stop until I get to Memphis."
Even as the slow, sad task of cleaning up after Camille began, a new hurricane, Debbie, began moving northward from the Caribbean. In an effort to reduce its intensity, a 13-plane armada attacked its core with silver-iodide crystals, designed to bring down Debbie’s temperature by turning her water vapor into rain or sleet. Debbie shrugged off the effort and continued moving on her course.