It's the 15-year anniversary of the storm or storms.

I was in college then. But I visited home that weekend. As Katrina approached, family urged me to return to school. On the drive from Biloxi to Starkville, mom called.

"Water is over the piers."

Was 12 hours before landfall.

That night, the Mississippi State student newspaper staff gathered for a hurricane party. As Katrina obliterated my home, I partied. Young fools, we were.

I lost communication with my family for 2 days, only ghastly images of my home available on TV.

Were they OK? I didn't know

On Tuesday, cell service returned.

My family was alive! A tree fell on the house, thankfully causing little damage.

They had no power & the area wasn’t drivable. The only news came from a man who had biked to the beach.

His message was haunting.

“It’s all gone.”

A few of us Coast boys packed an SUV with supplies & drove for Biloxi.

We arrived to a disaster area unlike anything I’ve seen. Our hometown was left unidentifiable - a twisted, splintered heap.

Roughly 1/3 of the Biloxi peninsula had been submerged beneath a 27-ft storm surge.

The surge ripped up roads, crumbled concrete & even pushed mammoth casino barges inland.

My great grandmother’s house - which survived Hurricane Camille in 1969 - was destroyed.

Dad crawled into her home - its roof on the ground - to retrieve valuables. Foolish but brave.

Katrina left the Coast in ruin. Fifteen years later, it is still recovering.

Swaths of land sit bare. Concrete slabs dot beachfront property.

As a kid, dad & I tracked hurricanes on a dry-erase board. I was enamored by them - until Katrina.

Fascination has turned to fear.