The most valuable $5 of my life

Twelve years ago today, Hurricane Katrina made landfall. I was in a crowded hotel in Jackson, Mississippi with three dogs, a horse, and a few changes of clothes.

It was a restless night’s sleep wondering what was happening. What was going to happen? How did all this happen?

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People tend to go through a strange calculus with a hurricane. You are watching its path in the days leading up to the destruction and hoping it doesn’t hit you. You’re not necessarily rooting for it to hit other people per se, but you just hope it doesn’t hit you. Katrina did hit me. She hit me hard.

Huddled around a big-screen TV in the courtyard of the hotel with all the other guests, it became clear very quickly that I had no home to return to. It was under water. Millions of people across America and the world were watching my neighborhood as part of the nightly news. Remember the last man plucked from his rooftop by a helicopter? It was on the news. The man on Painters Street that used an axe to chop a hole in his roof to escape the water? That was my neighbor.

That was my street. He was a sweet man. He use to wash his car a lot. He had cookouts on his driveway. He liked my dog, Chance. I don’t know what happened to him after the storm. I haven’t spoken to him since.

So as we watch our neighbors in Houston suffer in front us, there is one more memory that keeps returning to me.

It was at a gas station somewhere between Jackson and Oklahoma City. I don’t remember exactly where, but I had called my big brother and informed him that he was about to have another horse in his barn in New Mexico, and a few more dogs, too. He didn’t hesitate and said he’d be ready for us.

I was filling up the truck with gas. I probably had a million mile stare on my face when a man approached me and asked, “You running from Katrina?”

“Yes,” I responded.

“That was one hell of of a storm,” the man said.

He then pulled out his wallet and handed me his last $5. “Wish I had more, but God bless.”

I tried to refuse, but he insisted.

That was the most valuable $5 gift of my life. It showed me that I wasn’t forgotten and that people cared about me.

I wish I would have gotten his name so I could thank him personally.

So as you watch the news today, remember the people of Houston.