1969 Some Kind of Storm

1969 Some Kind of Storm – Keesler Part 2

I was stationed at Keesler AFB in Biloxi Mississippi when Hurricane Camille decided to pay a visit.

Camille came ashore at Bay St. Louis, Mississippi just west of Keesler. Camille was a Category 5 hurricane. Meteorologists described the wind as tornado force that even blew apart houses not touched by the storm surge. Only Hurricane Andrew was even close to Camille's wind speed. It had winds recorded up to 190mph but actual peak wind speed is not known since all the high quality measuring instruments in the area were destroyed during the storm.

It was the weekend of Woodstock and we were going to be all restricted to base anyway but once Camille hit we were restricted to a cinder block building with no windows and no electricity. What seemed like half my generation was at Max Yasgur's farm listening to the likes of Joe Cocker, Country Joe, Ten Years After, CSN&Y and others that Sunday. Me, I was stuck sitting in the dark on a hard linoleum floor trying without success to see my hand in front of my face while Camille was leveling a rather large path of destruction right outside. Once it was over we were let out. The base was a mess but otherwise in fairly good shape. Cars, trees, fences were damaged but I don't remember any buildings on the base being blown down. Outside the base was a different story. The coast line was in shambles and many people's homes were severely damaged or even leveled. A barge was sitting on the land side of the coastal highway. Keesler is on a peninsula and after the storm the peninsula was closed off from all services and help for days. All the coastal towns, including Biloxi, were significantly damaged. There was no electricity, no fresh water, no commercial deliveries, and little contact with the rest of the world. The area was closed by martial law. We were sent to our barracks for the night and the next morning informed the area was under a state of emergency. All regular activities including training were suspended. We were confined to our barracks except for meals and there was going to be just one. The meal was served mid-day and open to everyone on the base and all the town's people. The chow line was long, but then there was nothing else to do anyway.

The first day someone found a phone on the base in my complex that was still working. A bunch of us snuck out of the barracks and lined up to use it. Phone calls were restricted. To get a call through you had to convince the operator the call was critical. The first guy, from Washington DC, completed his phone call and said his parents had seen on the news that the area was a disaster with hundreds of people dead. They were frantic and greatly relieved to hear from him. After about an hour of waiting it was my turn and I called my parents. I got them on the line and told them I was fine. They replied OK like it was the kind of “fine” you say when you meet a friend on the street and they ask how you're doing. I said “Well I thought you might be concerned since Hurricane Camille had been here and there is so much damage and so many fatalities. Wasn't it on the news?” They said “Oh yeah, we did hear there was some kind of storm out by you.” Alrighty then, nice talking to you.

For a couple of days we could volunteer to help if we wanted, which I did. It beat just sitting around in our rooms. Some of the volunteers helped dig up casualties on the beach. Luckily I was not on that detail. The perk, besides getting out of the Barracks, was volunteers got an additional meal, a K-ration.

A K-ration consisted some kind of canned meat, some kind of fruit thing, some crackers and maybe cheese, maybe some chocolate (not sure about this) probably something else. The big prize was a K-ration also contained a package of 4 cigarettes. The cigarettes were the most prized item. Don't get me wrong, we appreciated the additional food regardless of how marginal it was, but for the smokers, most of us, the cigarettes were a big draw. The brand varied from ration to ration. There was no place to buy anything much less cigarettes, so they were scarce. K-rations were our only source.

My initial volunteer activities led me to the Red Cross. The Red Cross appeared to be first in. They were quite visible but they were also selling stuff (bread,water, and gas) to those who could afford it at high prices. I remember seeing bread being sold for $1 and a gallon of gas for the same. That sounds cheap today, but bread in 1969 sold in the store for 25 cents and gas was not much more, maybe 30/35 cents. That stopped, or at least was hidden a day or so later when the media arrived in mass. The Red Cross set up in the main (white) part of town. They were very visible and seemed to play to the media. They also seemed to be focused on helping the white population. Towns in the south at that point were strictly segregated. I mean it was like a line was drawn on one side of the town and if you were black you did not cross that line unless you had a valid reason, like going to work for a white man. I am sure, or at least I hope, the price gouging is not condoned by the Red Cross and I'd like to think color is not today a consideration, but because of that experience I remain skeptical of the Red Cross.

After a couple of days things got organized and all able servicemen were asked to volunteer to assist in the recovery and clean-up. I was initially assigned to the Red Cross, but after what I had previously seen I looked for other opportunities and managed to get connected with the Salvation Army. The Salvation Army did not have a big headquarters set up and did not entertain the media like the Red Cross did. In fact, you might not even notice they were there unless you needed help. They set up trailers in the less prominent areas of town, including the black side of town. They were preparing bags of food and supplies to give away to anyone who needed them, no questions asked. I got permission to work with one of the Salvation Army stations which was nothing more than a trailer shell filled with supplies. We spent all day making up these bags and giving them out. We literally worked sun up to sun down. We also ate and slept in the trailer, on the floor . I was with them for about a week.

I was then called back to the base. Each morning on the base we would be assigned to a group that would go out and clean up debris in town. I think at least 2 if not 3 meals were now being provided on the base but if you were out all day on a cleanup detail you received K-rations for meals.

There was a nightly poker game in my barracks and instead of playing for money we played for cigarettes. My roommate and I liked the same brands so we joined forces to win the cigarettes (yes some might call it cheating). We had signals we used and we would win early, pick out mostly the brands we liked and then lose late so in the end between us, we had more than we started the evening with and enough cigarettes for a couple of days, but we never looked like we were big winners. We would also keep a few of the other brands to bring to the next game. No one ever caught on. This went on for a couple of weeks or so. Then the BX reopened where we could buy cigarettes for $1.20 a carton, the going rate at that time on military bases.

After a few weeks things on the base returned to normal and training resumed. The clean-up continued for awhile and the status (state of emergency?, not sure) we were under lasted at least a month. When I was finally shipped out the following spring the highway and the beach were still a mess and the barge was still sitting on the other side of the highway. Yes, my parents had it right, Camille was some kind of storm...