Illustration by Paul Schexnayder for The Kajun Kween |
Hurricane Isaac is
casting his wet shadow on my home state of Louisiana where I live part of the
year when I’m not residing on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee. Like many
Louisiana residents, I remember Katrina and her destructive effects on people
and property in the bayou country. For six weeks following that killer storm, I
directed a clothing operation at Solomon House, an outreach mission of the
Episcopal Church of Epiphany in New Iberia, and ministered to those who escaped
the deluge in New Orleans, seeking higher ground in Acadiana.
Although New
Iberia has not felt Isaac so far, I cringe when I think of the violent
whirlwinds that have disturbed Acadiana in the past. New Iberians live near the
Gulf of Mexico, a relatively shallow body of water with no chilling ocean
currents running through it, and this shallow depth allows water to heat up to
85 degrees in the summer, so that the warm water can spawn a hurricane at
approximately 80 degrees. As the heat from condensation causes the air in a hurricane
to rise rapidly, the hurricane becomes a big wheel containing turbulent winds. And
devastation occurs.
As far back as
1722, a hurricane demolished the new settlement of New Orleans, and one of the
most memorable hurricanes was the storm on August 10, 1856 that struck Isle
Dernier or Last Island. This hurricane caused high storm tides, killing
hundreds of people reveling at a dance in a hotel called “The Trade Winds” and destroying
every building on the island, as well as most of its vegetation. The
devastation inspired the famous novel, Chita,
by Lafcadio Hearn. Today, Last Island is an uninhabited beach containing little
vegetation.
Hurricanes
appear in three of my Young Adult fiction books and provide active settings that
derive from my experiences of major hurricanes that struck New Iberia–Hilda,
Betsy, and the worst, Andrew, when I sat huddled in my home while the wind vibrated
the walls of my house like a giant accordion.
One of the
lighter treatments of a hurricane occurs in my YA book, The Kajun Kween, in which the heroine, Petite Marie Melancon, ties
herself to a tree to experience the Big Wind so that she can provide a story
for a comic strip publisher. (However, this narrative is not intended as a jest
to minimize the severity of hurricanes –in fact, it emphasizes the foolishness
of Petite Marie.) Before Petite goes outside to experience this childish
adventure (unbeknownst to her parents), a discussion of hurricanes takes place
at the supper table, and Petite shows off her knowledge of hurricanes to her
Papa: “Wizards in Finland used to sell wind to seamen. The wind was inside of
three knots,” she says. “If someone untied the first knot, a small wind came
up. If he untied the second knot, half a gale blew, and if he untied the third
knot, a hurricane blew in. I read that seamen in the Shetland Islands still buy
knotted handkerchiefs from old women to control the storms…”
Papa Melancon
bests Petite’s story with one of his own. He claims that at one time when
hurricanes blew in, Sumatrans ran from their houses armed with swords and
lances to cut up the winds. Petite’s papa explains that the word “huracan,” which means “God of All Evil,” is derived from Indian tribes in the Caribbean,
the Tainos, who thought that on many occasions Huracan got angry with them and
tried to blow them away. You’ll have to read what happens to Petite Marie
Melancon during her hurricane adventure in The
Kajun Kween, but I don’t advise anyone to test the intensity of the Big
Wind, as Petite attempted to do.
Meanwhile, we assume
the position of “hunkering down” in sympathy with our Louisiana friends and
family and pray that Isaac will take his winds to some other body of water or
deserted island, settling his terrible rotary disturbances there.
The illustration
at the beginning of this blog is a clip from a drawing by Paul Schexnayder, New
Iberia artist, and appears in The KajunKween.
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