Making Sense of It All

I thought the trip to Mississippi would have been easier--we had a very clear plan: assess what types of mental health needs are occurring on the Gulf Coast and how they are being dealt with. Our trip focused on Hamilton and Hancock counties, the westernmost counties on the Mississippi coast. Hancock County is on the MS/Louisiana border. We visited a variety of homes, met with pastors and other community leaders, and it is very apparent that not only is there a great stigma placed on those who seek mental health counseling, but there is an extreme shortage of workers in the area.

Imagine living in a camper for two and a half years, you a 30-something-year-old who works afternoon->evening shifts at a local nursing home as a nurse's aide, your thirty-something husband who works as a local truck driver when there is work, your 8-year-old son, your 10-year-old daughter, and your 12-year-old son all living in a FEMA trailer. There are two bedrooms, one at each end of the trailer. Your husband and you have the bedroom closest to the front door--there is no room in the 'bedroom' for anything but the double bed. Your two active sons sleep in bunkbeds at the other end of the trailer. So where does your daughter sleep? The dining booth breaks down into a bed.

Privacy, you want privacy you say? Go outside. Greet your 15 starving dogs because you have no money to pay to get your dogs spayed and the puppies keep coming and coming. Sometimes strangers come by and offer the two mama dogs foodscraps. She barely is getting by. How will the 12 puppies make it?

Hungry? Just look into your propane-powered dorm-sized refrigerator. How much milk will that hold for three growing children?

Dirty? Try taking a seven gallon shower. Wait, you can't do that because you have the children and your husband to think about. Your water heater isn't that big. You'll have to be very frugal with the water so that everyone can do a little washing up tonight.

The view? Look at that slab outside the house. It is all that remains of your home--the house you purchased a few years before Katrina, the house that was supposed to be your nestegg for retirement, the house that was supposed to be your shelter from the storm. Even though you live three miles from the Gulf of Mexico, the 30-foot storm surge carried your house nearly all the way to the interstate, I-10, about two miles to the north. At least you have your concrete slab left to go along with your mortgage payments that you are supposed to be paying on a house that no longer exists that was carried away in a flood that really was not part of Hurricane Katrina according to your insurance agent.

Maybe you should file for bankruptcy? In Mississippi, you need $2,000 to begin the process of filing for bankruptcy...

This is the true-life story of one family I met on my recent trip to Mississippi. My heart goes out to them. They are grateful for their jobs, that their family has made it thus far, but their FEMA trailer will be taken away soon. The family does not qualify for a Katrina Cottage, so what will they do?