. . . Secesh has got to be swept away by the hand of God . . .
Beauvoir – outside Biloxi, MS
If you haven’t seen the post-Katrina Gulf Coast, it’s worth seeing. Even now, three years after the fact, the scars are still highly visible. On Highway 90 west of Gulfport I passed a high shopping center sign advertising – among other things – the location of an Outback Steakhouse. On either side of the sign all that remained were the cuts in the curb for entry to the non-existent parking lot for a non-existent shopping center.
I’ve seen the devastation of a Hurricane before. I was – in a weird way – a one-man rescue crew sent into Miami in October 2005 to get things back up and running at our plant there. With all the other “rescuers” – power line specialists, tree trimmers, roofers, etc – I scrambled for places to stay, dealt with a total lack of functioning traffic lights, learned to ask “What’s left??” when entering any restaurant and gasped at the incomprehensible power of Mother Nature’s wrath. When considering the bizarre boomerang path of Fay this week I assured everyone, “I’ve seen the aftermath of a hurricane. I want no parts of the thing. If it comes my way I’m booking north just as fast as I can.”
Says the man wandering aimlessly along the Gulf Coast with a storm more erratic than a ping-pong ball seemingly following his every move.
Despite my wonder at the devastation and my hopes and prayers for the people – let’s be honest here – stupid enough to stay and attempt to rebuild I try not to take pleasure – even schadenfreude – out of the death and destruction of a mighty hurricane. But I do derive a sense of grim poetic justice from the fate of Jefferson Davis home and shrine at Beauvoir. It really does seem as if God was trying to wipe away the stain of what has become a shrine to treason and the chief traitor, that Man without a Country, Jefferson Davis.
And now those responsible for perpetuating the memory are putting it all back together again. The house is magnificent. As a historian, I am very glad the house survives to contemplate. I am very glad I got to visit.
I am also beyond tickled that the “Jefferson Davis Presidential Library and Museum” was wrecked beyond repair. I am deeply annoyed that the circa 1981 installation of the tomb of the “Unknown Soldier of the Confederate States of America” was not wiped out. I can learn respect for the genuine veterans of That War but I cannot profess anything but bitter hate for those who in our modern age choose to memorialize that which the authentic veterans did not.
And so, in reference to Beauvoir and its current point and purpose I’ve got to say: Try Again Lord. Try harder this time.