Aftemath (Install. 3)

If you are naïve about the nature of a hurricane, you don’t have to be a genius to
figure much out about this one. If you’re not sure which way the wind blows, from
which direction the storm came from or if this particular storm was bad, its still not
hard to figure out.
Most of the trees, the ones still standing, all have this perpetual south to north lean
as if the wind is still blowing. They look like a guy who has used a blow dryer his
entire life; his face and head all looking like travel around in a wind tunnel.
In some places, debris still hangs like moss from the branches. In one tree, I spied
a piece of tin sheet metal that had been blown so hard into a branch, that the best way to describe it is that it looked like you had taken a large, wet paper towel and spread it around the branch and let it dry. The metal conformed so tightly and smoothly, it will probably remain permanent. Another thing about the trees, many of them used to have Spanish moss flowing through them year around. Now there isn’t any. The Live Oaks along the beach, some that have been there or a few hundred years and endured countless storms, appeared to me like sentries. Guarding what was left apologetically, sorry they failed to protect us as we protect them.
And protect these trees the people here do. Many developers over the years have wanted to cut some down to construct what they wanted. The Coastians always rallied and petitioned and staunchly refused to allow it. They protected those trees like children. Certainly as a part of the heritage.
They are beautiful trees. Some with trunks five and six feet around. Branches that spider-web in all directions. The older trees with its youngest branches as thick as porch columns. Bark, scaly and coarse, reminding me of the back of an old alligator. Lord help you if you hit one in a car. Irresistible force meeting an immovable object needs no better demonstration. Those trees have withstood everything man and nature have thrown their way for a long time.
If they have a conscience, I would like to ease it by letting them know nothing could have stopped this storm. They did not let us down.
One curious thing, the people truly went to great lengths to keep these trees alive and protected over the years, on occasion a developer went to his own great lengths to remove the ones that were obstacles to his dream. After much debate, argument, and proposals back and forth, the compromise that was reached was the particular trees that stood in the way of progress, would be uprooted, moved and transplanted in another location. There was a lot of concern as to whether the oaks would survive. Did anyone know how to perform such an operation? Where would they be placed?
After a time these questions were answered. An outfit from another area came in and handled the actual work and in the end the great trees survived and even flourished. I looked for those particular trees on one of my tours and sure enough, they had survived Katrina and had probably been the first of the Live Oaks to feel her presence. A friend of mine loosely related a story to me that after the storm some colonel from the Army Corps of Engineers wanted to bulldoze and remove some of the oaks as clean up of the debris along the beach began. The Boss said it best, ’They’re still here; but he’s all gone’. Probably as it will prove to be with us all.




The way these trees have endured over the years is a comparison to the people of the coast as any you shall see. More than once, lyrics of a Hank Williams Jr. song has came to my mind since this disaster struck. A line in “A Country Boy Can Survive” is “you can’t starve us out and you can’t make us run’. Sounds like bravado and a load of crap until you find its true.