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.