Gunner

by Judy Andrekson

  They completed that show season as a force to be reckoned with and already looked forward to the next season. Gunner had worked very hard all spring and summer, had dominated the competition in all of the shows they entered, and headed home in August, ready for some peace and quiet. Little did they know that he was soon to face the biggest challenge he’d ever come up against. Within weeks of coming home, he was in a competition for his life.

  August 23, 2005 – Heather and Gunner were attending a small show in Louisiana when Heather heard on the news that Tropical Depression 12 had formed over the Bahamas. She had registered the information, but paid little attention. Tropical depressions sometimes form into tropical storms or even hurricanes, but at that point, Heather had classes to get through and hot, humid weather to contend with.

  August 24 – The tropical depression began to gain strength and was upgraded to a tropical storm and named Katrina.

  Heather and Gunner completed the show in top form by the end of this day and were preparing for the trip home. Heather kept an ear on the news, but still not too anxiously. Hurricanes are part of the landscape in Louisiana. They are taken seriously, but people don’t tend to panic over them. Until danger is imminent, it’s business as usual.

  Tropical Storm Katrina moved steadily toward Florida throughout the day, picking up strength as it went. It was upgraded to a Category 2 hurricane just hours before it hit Florida.

  August 25 – Katrina weakened back to a tropical storm as it traveled over land, but regained hurricane status within an hour of entering the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico. This was the third major hurricane in the region that season, but this one would be different.

  Heather and Gunner headed for home.

  August 26 – Meteorologists predicted that Katrina would head toward the Florida Panhandle, but unusually warm waters and a strong weather system was making the storm’s path difficult to predict. Gulf Coast residents became uneasy when Katrina did not turn, as predicted, and started heading their way, gaining power as she came.

  At the ranch in Laurel, and on the farm in Picayune, the first preparations were beginning to be made … just in case. Both locations were inland enough to be relatively safe, but people had been through enough hurricanes to know how much damage the high winds and heavy rains could cause, even far in from the coast.

  August 27 – Katrina intensified to a Category 3 hurricane and was now bearing down on the Gulf Coast states. A hurricane watch was started for South East Louisiana, including New Orleans and the Mississippi and Alabama coasts. The storm was temporarily slowed by a disturbance, but the disturbance doubled the size of the system, making Katrina a very different kind of hurricane – the “big one.” The watch was upgraded to a warning, and as the storm, now twice as large, began to regain power and move toward the Louisiana coast, people became very nervous. The president declared a federal state of emergency in the region and prepared to send in troops to assist if the devastation was as great as forecasters were starting to fear.

  Heather and E.W. decided that Gunner would be safer at the Laurel ranch than in the stable at Picayune. Laurel is farther inland, and horses, given enough space and natural cover, can usually make it through severe weather better outside than indoors. In a hurricane, they have been known to huddle or even lie down as a group to withstand the winds. Gunner, Buttermilk, and the other horses from Maria’s stable were trailered to the ranch that afternoon and turned out in a large pasture with a wide creek in the middle and plenty of sheltered areas.

  Heather had to report to the hospital in New Orleans. Touro Hospital was under high alert and every available body was needed to prepare for the onslaught of victims they knew would come with a storm as massive and powerful as this one.

  At the ranch, E.W. and Wes worked hard to tie down, secure, cover, and otherwise protect everything they could.

  August 28 – Katrina was upgraded to a Category 4 hurricane at two in the morning. Five hours later, it was a Category 5 hurricane and was packing sustained winds of incredible strength. The storm was a monster now, and by 9:30 a.m. the government, now facing one of the largest and most powerful hurricanes to ever hit the Gulf Coast, decided to issue the first-ever mandatory evacuation orders for large areas of South East Louisiana and coastal Mississippi and Alabama. Forty-one counties and sixty-one cities were ordered to evacuate, including the city of New Orleans, which was in grave peril. No one knew if the city’s levees would hold under the rapidly approaching conditions … and if they didn’t, the entire city could soon be under water.

  Over a million people began moving inland, with only hours between them and the fierce storm. At 4:30 p.m., the National Weather Service issued a special hurricane warning: In the likely event of a Category 4 or 5 hit, most of the area will be uninhabitable for weeks, perhaps longer…. At least one-half of well-constructed homes will have roof and wall failure. All gabled roofs will fail, leaving those homes severely damaged or destroyed… . Power outages will last for weeks… . Water shortages will make human suffering incredible by modern standards.

  August 29 – Katrina made landfall near Buras, Louisiana, at 6:10 a.m. with high winds and extremely heavy rains. Her swath of winds, from the eye of the storm outward, was more than a hundred miles wide, and her winds were beyond ferocious. She destroyed everything in her path.

  Katrina weakened slightly to a Category 3 as she moved overland and into Breton Sound, before making her third landfall near the Louisiana/Mississippi border. Storm swells battered the coast, and at 7:30 a.m., New Orleans’ levees were reported as being breached. Soon water began to flood over 80 percent of the city.

  The storm raged on, maintaining Category 3 hurricane strength until she was well into Mississippi. The eye of the storm passed over Picayune and Laurel, with winds still raging at a hundred and twenty miles per hour. Every county in Mississippi suffered destruction.

  At Touro Hospital, Heather was so busy that she barely had time to think about what might be happening at home, which was a blessing because she was worried sick. She had phoned home as often as she could when the storm hit, but now the phone lines were down, and she had no way of knowing what was happening. Earlier, she had spoken to E.W. and he told her that he and Wes were camping in the hallway, as it seemed like the safest place in the house. Shortly after, when she called again, E.W. informed her that a tree had crashed through their roof, and he was taking Wes to the big hay barn.

  “Don’t worry,” he soothed. “I’ll take good care of him. We’ll be waiting for you. We’ll be all right.” Then the lines went dead. She’d been unable to get through since.

  Around the same time, Maria had phoned them to see how they were making out. Wes came on the line. “Hi Grandma. Mama’s going to be upset. Our living room curtains are all gone.” Before she could find out exactly what that meant, they were cut off. She had her own storm to survive, as the little farm was being battered, but she was very worried, both for her son-in-law and grandson in Laurel, and for her daughter in New Orleans, where reports of levee breaches, severe flooding, and desperate conditions were already beginning to emerge. She prayed that they would all find each other safe and sound in the days ahead.

  The following days were ones of chaos. The entire Gulf Coast had been affected, much of it damaged beyond recognition. People lost homes, family members, pets, and all of their belongings. Relief shelters were filled to capacity and in need of help. Every hospital in New Orleans had been forced to close, except Touro, where exhausted staff were working long hours with no electricity, no running water, and no relief from the hot and humid weather that followed Katrina. The damage to that beautiful city was extensive and the focus in the days following the monster storm was on rescuing and treating those who had been left behind during the evacuation.

  In the week following Katrina’s landfall, Heather worked doggedly alongside the other health-care workers who remained in New Orleans. Communications were completely down, and roads and transportation sys
tems were non-functional, so she had no way of finding out if her family was all right. Horror stories of lost loved ones were flooding the corridors of the hospital, and Heather could only hope they had made it through safely.

  In Picayune, Maria’s farm was safe. The house had made it through unscathed. The barn roof was ruined but repairable. But she, too, was isolated, with no means of reaching her daughter, the ranch, or other family members. She was desperately worried.

  When E.W. and Wes emerged after the storm finally died down, their world had completely changed. A large tree had smashed through the middle of their house and almost every window had been blown out. The heavy rains had poured in and many belongings were ruined.

  The big hay barn, where they had been sheltered, sustained little damage, while another, beside it, was torn to pieces. Trees were down, farm items were scattered – sometimes surprising distances from where they had started – and everything was under water. Long stretches of fencing were destroyed. It was almost too much to take in. E.W. barely knew where to start.

  It took an enormous effort to get his emotions in check and smile down at little Wes, who was staring around with wide eyes.

  “Looks like we have a lot of work to do before Mama comes home,” E.W. said, as cheerily as he could. He was hoping beyond hope that Heather would be coming home. He had no way of knowing how she was, and he was extremely worried.

  Luckily, the horse trailer made a very comfortable temporary home. It was a luxury model with a complete apartment in the front end, and Wes had lived in it often enough while on the road with his mother. E.W. made it into an adventure, and the pair of them gathered food and clothes and water from their damaged house and set up their new home for a long-term stay.

  Over the next few days, they took stock of the situation on the rest of the farm. They were constantly amazed by how far the hurricane had blown so many heavy items. The long, slow process of cleaning up began. They cared for the animals that had survived the storm, and buried the ones that did not. They repaired fences to hold the ones that staggered back home and began to ride out each day in search of the ones that were still lost. Many cattle were missing, and some of the horses had crossed downed fence lines and were found in the far reaches of the ranch or on neighboring farms. Some were injured and needed attention. Within a week, they had found almost all of the lost animals, but one horse was still missing. Even after days of searching, E.W. could not find Gunner anywhere.

  The other horses in Gunner’s pasture were still there. All E.W. could figure was that before the storm, Gunner must have crossed the broad stream that ran through the middle of the field, probably on one of his curious adventures. When Katrina’s rains had come and turned the stream into a wide and fast-running river, he could not get back and had wandered off in an attempt to escape the frightening winds and flying debris. He was a pampered show horse, after all. He was like a captive animal, suddenly set free to fend for himself. His chances of survival when on the loose were far below those of a naturally kept horse.

  In New Orleans, Heather was oblivious to all of this, but growing more desperate for word about her husband, son, and mother with every passing day. She and the other care providers at the hospital were working in grim conditions. Touro was still the only hospital open in the whole of New Orleans, and their resources were quickly running low. They were evacuating as many of the movable patients as they could, but the beds were full and hurricane victims would continue to arrive for weeks to come. Temperatures were sweltering – almost unbearable – and there was no air conditioning or running water. Electricity production from the generators was testy and fragile. Medical supplies and fresh water were running low. Heather caught sleep when she could and tried to maintain sanity when she was awake. All she really wanted was to go home and see her family.

  After a full, agonizing week, Heather had the opportunity to have contact with home. Sanderson Farms, one of the largest and richest chicken producers in the United States, was based out of Laurel and employed E.W. The enormous farm had suffered its own severe losses, with millions of chickens killed in the hurricane, but they possessed a means of transport that would become vital to the relief effort in New Orleans. They became a major contributor in many ways over the coming months.

  The medical team stranded in Touro hospital could not just drive away to check on their homes and families. Most of their vehicles were under water, the roads were flooded or badly damaged, and hospital workers were expected to remain within contact range until the worst of the emergency was under control. That could be weeks! But the Sanderson’s Blackhawk jet helicopters could get people to and from the hospital for short periods, and in this way, Heather was finally brought home.

  Heather was shocked to find her house destroyed and appalled by the amount of damage to the farm and surrounding area. She learned that the eye of the storm had passed directly over Laurel, and while they were far enough away from the coast to be protected from the storm surge that had devastated New Orleans and other coastal communities, the fierce winds and rain had taken a huge toll. There was no community in Mississippi that was unaffected.

  Despite all of this, she was overjoyed … so grateful to hold her son and husband in her arms again. She tried, unsuccessfully, to reach her mother in Picayune, but communications had not yet been restored. It would be another week before she would hear her voice and know she was fine.

  Heather could only stay for a short visit before heading back to the hospital, but it was long enough to rejuvenate her for the grueling weeks ahead. E.W. didn’t mention Gunner’s disappearance. All Heather was concerned about at that point was keeping her family safe. She had never contemplated losing them before, and to come so close changed the way she looked at everything. Her gratitude was immense. To face that kind of natural power and be blessed enough to see the following day with your family safe and unharmed seemed like nothing short of a miracle.

  Heather, E.W., and Wes would call the horse trailer home for the next six weeks, which meant they were better off than many in the region. At least their home was repairable. At least they had each other and a way to stay on their own land in the meantime. So many people lost everything, including loved ones, and the Goodwin family was grateful for all they had.

  They would remain cut off from the rest of the world, without running water or electricity for another three weeks. Their fuel supply was limited, and the roads were so damaged and blocked with fallen trees, downed power lines, and other debris that travel was next to impossible. The Sanderson helicopter was Heather’s only means of transport back and forth, and she was only able to stay for a day or two at the most, but every time she returned, she could see how hard E.W. and Wes had been working to get their lives back in order.

  E.W. continued to ride out almost daily in search of missing animals, including Gunner, but there was no trace of the colorful gelding. When he finally told Heather, she was devastated. Her focus had been entirely on her family and her patients, but now it felt as though a child were missing from their family. When she was able, she joined in the search for him, and prayed that somehow, he would have survived.

  Although ranch life slowly began to take some form again over the next month, the situation remained desperate in New Orleans – and would for a long time to come. Heather was constantly exhausted, moving between the shattered city and her life in a horse trailer. Sometimes she would go only as far as Picayune and rest there, where Wes was staying with his Grandma Maria much of the time now.

  Try as she did to maintain hope, as the months went by with no sign of her horse, Heather began to doubt that they would ever see Gunner alive again. There was no saying what kind of trouble he may have gotten himself into. As Christmas approached, they all began to admit that the chances of his return were less than slim.

  Heather was surprised beyond belief on December 26, when E.W. phoned her at the hospital to say he’d just received a phone call from an animal rescue group in Wayn
esboro, two counties and over thirty miles east of them. A horse had staggered into an elderly lady’s yard in the town, and when she had tried to chase it out of her garden with a broom, it had collapsed and couldn’t get back up. She had phoned the sheriff, and the horse had been transported to the rescue station. The veterinarian there had examined him and found a microchip implant that had helped them identify him. It was Gunner.

  Unfortunately, they were calling with the recommendation to put him out of his misery. He was malnourished, dehydrated, extremely weak, and badly injured. The vet felt that the extent of his suffering made his chances of a successful recovery very poor. They were waiting now for the go-ahead from Heather.

  For Heather, though, this was out of the question.

  “Tell them not to do anything. I’m coming,” she told E.W.

  E.W. tried to talk her out of it. “Heather, it’ll take you hours, and he’s suffering. They said he’s in really bad shape. The roads are still a mess east of here. … You’ll have to go around by the back roads to get there. Why don’t you just let them deal with it?”

  “No. He’s hung on for three months. Who am I to give up on him! Tell them I’m on my way.”

  The following hours were extremely chaotic. By then, Heather had a vehicle again, but the roads in and out of New Orleans were still nearly impassable. The drive to Picayune, which under normal conditions took about forty minutes, now took her close to three hours. Wes was there, and while Heather hitched the trailer, he insisted on going with her. At first she resisted. She wasn’t sure exactly how they were going to get there, or just how bad Gunner would be. But Wes was very much his mother’s son and would not take no for an answer.