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SimulcastingArmaggedon
by K W Emert

Sunday Noon, Eastern Standard, August 28, 2005
      Already a Catagory 5 with winds at 145 knots moving NE toward
     the Mississippi Delta. Several states' distance from my home.
                     "It's windfield has doubled since yesterday. The eye is sharpening.
                     Pressure is dropping."
      I'm mesmerized. My automatic reaction is to fill all containers with
      potable water and take down the plants. Gas up the car. Bring in the cat.

6:00 pm Sunday
      Winds increased, pressure has dropped to 902 millibars. Almost a record.
      Not one to strive for here in the tropics. Heightens tension. Builds anxiety.
                     "For those of you with families in the Gulf region who have
                     not already taken refuge, the roads are now not a safe place to be."
      Still 170 miles SE of the mouth of the Mississippi River, this storm has a
      200 mile wide radius. Bands already batter the coast.

11:00 pm Sunday
      My husband is tired of all of this. My glazed fixed stare, my chisled visage,
      pale blue in the glow of the TV screen.
                     "For those of you just tuning in we are simulcasting this weather report
                     for our sister station in Gulfport, Mississippi, currently evacuating
                     inland to Jackson for the safety of their crew."
      I think "This is bad. The weather crew's leaving." And feel an urgency beyond
      belief. As if I were there. In cross-grain rain.

12:00 am Midnight
      I find myself in the far left corner, under the only beam I know of.
      The cat takes her station beneath my chair as 2004 replays for us both.
                     "If you have not done so, we recommend that you move to the inside
                     of your building. Things will sound rough. Just try to stay calm."
      Our Orlando station has seen it all, they think. And sound the voices of reason.
      My heart bleeds as deep inside the breaking begins. Katrina's new news.

11:00 am, Monday morning
      Finally landfall, a catagory 3 up the mouth of not the mighty Mississippi, but the
      gentle Pearl where all hell breaks loose.
                     "A 28 foot storm surge through the night with flooding as far as 6 miles
                     inland is being reported by several sources still at the scene."
      A horrific scene. A flattened rainbow. An upturned world. A rudderless ship.
      And worse to come.

12:00 pm, Tuesday
      Live in Biloxi, our own Daytona Beach Bureau Chief reporting from
      this State of Emergency. Standing at the edge of the Gulf.
                     "I can tell you that words will not describe what I've seen on the way.
                     Let's just roll it," she tells her cameraman. Footage begins.
      From the safety net of my post-Charley-post-Frances-post-Jeanne grandstand,
      I wonder how she managed to get there. And marvel at the absent officials.