Article October 10, 2005 Issue

A FAMILY'S JOURNEY WITH GOD

By John Hoyle

I felt safe. After watching the news, I went to bed satisfied that Hurricane Katrina would be avoiding my home in New Orleans. The next morning, however, the telephone woke me at an awkward, early time. It was my father. He was short of breath. "Grab a few things, and meet me at my house," he said, "We're leaving—the storm is headed our way." A mandatory evacuation was in effect. There was urgency and panic in his voice.

We tossed a few things in the trunk and I drove west. Five of us—my parents, my 86–year–old great uncle, and my wife and I—left New Orleans with absolutely no plan.

We were not alone in our haste. The Interstate was flooded with thousands of cars escaping the city. After six hours, we had inched only 23 miles. My great uncle, who is physically disabled, was becoming restless. "I'd rather be dead than in this car," he said. He meant it. My father, who was dealing with a physical ailment at the time, was complaining of acute pain. As the radio told us that the hurricane was churning closer, morale in the car was deteriorating. Rain and darkness began to fall.

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