Day 1: Three a.m
9.28.2015
My brother Scott, a prominent physician from Sacramento California and I sit in the bleachers seats at the Forest County Multi Purpose Center in Hattiesburg.
Recently converted into a Red Cross shelter. Katrina had made landfall in the gulf coast of Mississippi.
We are both wearing hospital scrubs. Scott was the lone medical staff on call that evening;
I had given most of my clothing away to those in need. The scrubs, lightweight in 105° heat, provided me big pockets to carry filters and other camera gear.
We both sported red eyes with black circles at that hour. Almost asleep, we heard a woman’s voice say, “My ankles are swelling and I’m going to have a baby! “
Scott immediately lifted his head, his voice piercing the silence with medical advice. The pregnant woman interrupted, “I don’t want to talk to you… I want to talk to the real doctor”, as she glared at me.
While not a doctor, I am a bit older, a bit grayer and a bit wider than my brother. I look the part of a Grey’s Anatomy cast member.
At that moment I knew I was not in Kansas anymore, and the Humane Society of OZ had taken Toto hostage.
So began my journey into a world tipped on its side by the sheer force of a vicious storm named Katrina.
