The impact of major hurricanes on Southwest Louisiana
Throughout my career working and living in or near coastal Louisiana, hurricanes and tropical storms have played a major role in both my personal and professional life. While living and working in Cameron Parish from 1978 to 1992, my family and I evacuated 11 times because of threatening Gulf storms.
Tropical Storm Arthur’s recent rainfall of more than 20 inches in less than 36 hours in southern Avoyelles Parish reminded residents that severe weather systems can have devastating consequences—not only for Louisiana’s coastal parishes but also for communities much farther inland.
When I moved to Cameron Parish in 1978, I quickly learned why its residents were so emotionally connected to every hurricane season, which generally runs from June 1 through Nov. 30. Just 21 years earlier, in 1957, Hurricane Audrey had struck Cameron Parish as a Category 3 storm and is remembered as one of the most devastating hurricanes in Louisiana history.
With sustained winds of approximately 125 mph and a storm surge reaching as high as 11 feet, the hurricane claimed an estimated 400 to 600 lives, affecting virtually every family in the Cameron parish.
That tragic history was never forgotten.
As a community-minded public servant working for the Louisiana Cooperative Extension Service, I felt compelled to become involved as a member of the Cameron Parish Civil Defense team. My responsibilities included assisting with hurricane preparedness, evacuation activities and recovery efforts when storms impacted the parish.
My family lived in Grand Chenier, only a few miles from the Gulf. I always believed it was better to evacuate my wife and children early, even if parish officials had not yet issued an official evacuation order. On each of the 11 occasions when we evacuated, my wife and children traveled north to Ville Platte to stay with my parents until the storm passed and the threat was over.
I generally remained in Cameron Parish to assist with Civil Defense activities and help communicate evacuation recommendations to residents. This was long before cell phones, social media and modern emergency communication systems were in place. House-to-house communication was often essential to make sure residents knew a storm was approaching and understood the potential danger.
The Cameron Parish Police Jury provided me with a two-way radio as part of my Extension Service responsibilities. The radio allowed me to communicate with my office and other parish governmental agencies for my day-to-day work activities.
During hurricane evacuations, however, my parish radio became an invaluable tool for communicating with Civil Defense personnel and helping coordinate emergency activities.
Evacuation was not always mandatory, but the memory of Hurricane Audrey remained a powerful motivator. Most residents did not hesitate to leave when parish officials recommended evacuation. If someone indicated that they intended to remain behind, we would document their decision and explain that rescue might not be possible later if floodwaters rose and hurricane-force winds made travel dangerous.
Residents who had personally experienced Hurricane Audrey’s devastation were much quicker to agree to evacuate than those who had moved into the parish after 1957. For those who had witnessed Audrey’s destruction, the dangers of a major hurricane were more real and more clearly understood.
During the 14 years my family lived in lower Cameron Parish, we were blessed that our home in Grand Chenier escaped significant hurricane damage. Those years were filled with many wonderful family memories. My wife and I were also blessed with two additional children after moving there in 1978.
Sadly, our youngest child, Abram Luke, was born prematurely in 1983 and passed away four years later. He was buried in a small Catholic cemetery located adjacent to our Grand Chenier home.
In 1992, we sold our home and moved to Baton Rouge so I could begin Ph.D. studies at LSU while continuing to work full time for Cooperative Extension. My Extension Service-Sea Grant responsibilities involved developing and implementing a coast-wide educational program focused primarily on the management and restoration of wetlands and coastal resources across south Louisiana.
Our relatively quiet hurricane experience in Cameron Parish came to an abrupt end in 2005.
On Sept. 24, Hurricane Rita struck Cameron Parish as a Category 3 storm with sustained winds of approximately 115 mph. Rita arrived only 26 days after Hurricane Katrina devastated much of southeast Louisiana and the Mississippi Coast, including New Orleans, where over 1,800 lives were lost.
Although I had left Cameron Parish more than a decade earlier, my immediate thoughts turned to the many friends, neighbors and former colleagues who still lived there when Rita hit. I wanted to do something to help. I was able to arrange an aerial survey of the parish by private airplane, and what I saw was almost impossible to comprehend.
Water covered much of the landscape. Numerous homes had disappeared completely, leaving only concrete slabs or pilings behind.
After the storm surge receded, I traveled into the parish by four-wheel-drive vehicle to see the devastation firsthand. With so many familiar landmarks destroyed, I sometimes had difficulty determining exactly where I was.
My first priority was checking on Abram’s grave (my deceased son). Rita’s storm surge, estimated at 15 to 18 feet in some locations, had covered the cemetery where he was buried. I feared that his grave might have been damaged or that his coffin might have been washed away.
Amazingly, Abram’s grave remained intact. Several other coffins in the cemetery had been displaced, but his grave suffered only a few scratches across the marble ledger. Even more remarkable, a 20-pound marble flower vase that had rested on the grave was missing. I later discovered the vase standing upright in the middle of the front yard where our old home had once stood.
Our home itself was gone. Only the concrete slab remained. Most of the homes in our former neighborhood had also been destroyed. It was an extraordinarily difficult time for Cameron Parish residents, and the enormous task of cleanup and rebuilding had only begun.
Hurricane Rita directly claimed 11 lives in Louisiana and Texas, but most Cameron Parish residents had followed evacuation orders because of the storm’s anticipated severity. Their willingness to evacuate undoubtedly saved lives.
Rita was not the last major hurricane to challenge Cameron Parish. Hurricanes Ike struck in 2008, followed by Hurricane Laura in 2020. Three major hurricanes in a 15-year period fundamentally changed the parish.
Many families eventually moved farther north to towns and cities where they felt more secure. Cameron Parish’s population today is roughly half what it was when we left in the early 1990s.
After seeing storm surge waters cover Abram’s grave on more than one occasion, we ultimately decided to move his grave from Grand Chenier to Ville Platte. It was a difficult decision, but we wanted to make certain that his final resting place would not again be threatened by hurricane-driven storm surge.
When I think about Cameron Parish, however, I think first about its people—not the hurricanes. The people and culture I experienced there were friendly, loving, caring and remarkably resilient. Hurricanes have changed the landscape and altered the lives of countless families, but they cannot destroy the spirit of the people who call Cameron Parish home.
Life in Cameron Parish will never be exactly as it was when my family lived there. Yet the treasure that is Cameron Parish remains alive in its people, wherever life may have taken them since these devastating storms.
God forever bless the people of Cameron Parish.
Until next time,
Paul Coreil
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