Hurricane Katrina

15 September 2005

Daddy’s Hands
Strength and Hope
 

Houma families began to settle in the Venice area in the early decades of the twentieth century. We lived in extended family settlements along the passes that radiated off the Mississippi River.

“Striker’s Woods”, “Grand Pass”, “the Half-Way House”, “Spanish Pass” and “the Village” were some of the Houma Indian settlements that sprang up around Venice in an area that became known as “the Jump”.

I was born in LaFourche Parish, in the Houma settlement below Golden Meadow, where my father’s family originated. By the time I was three years old we were living on Spanish Pass, my dad had joined other family members there to trawl in the seafood-rich waters and to trap in the surrounding marshland.

The settlement on Spanish Pass consisted mostly of an extended Dardar and Billliot family. I remember my Aunt Rita had a big house that was jokingly called “the Ponderosa” while our smaller place was “the Green Acres”.

My father was Raymond Mayheart Dardar, or just “Mayheart” in the memory of most Houmas, he was a trawler and a trapper. My early years were spent on a skiff trawling for shrimp in the summer and running trap lines through the marsh in the winter.

I don’t remember a lot about hurricane Betsy in 1965 other than evacuating to a relative up river and the roof of the house we were staying in being blown off.
I was a little older when hurricane Camille came in 1969 and the details of that time are much clearer in my memory. I remember leaving home on that September evening with my parents. We each took one change of clothes, my dad said he did’nt think it was going to be that bad. It was the only time I can remember my dad being wrong about anything.

We returned weeks later to a devastated town and Parish. It was over a year before we could move back.

Through it all I remember my dad working hard and providing for us, even though we lost everything he made sure we never did without. I don’t ever remember being hungry or feeling neglected.

My dad had strong hands, I can still see them “picking” shrimp and skinning nutria and muskrats. He used to like the Allstate ad slogan “you’re in good hands” and he’d jokingly assure us we were in good hands with him. In reality it was no joke, I always felt safe and protected by those strong hands.

The wind and the water had taken all we had but I knew the strength in daddy’s hands was enough to get us through.

As I sat in a conference room a few days ago reviewing photos of hurricane Katrina’s effects on Venice I couldn’t help but stare at my hands. I was thinking about my dad, who passed away some years back, and of my grandchildren (two of which live with my wife and I) and I couldn’t help but wonder about my hands.

I know I don’t have all of the strength he possessed but I do have the example he set. The Houma are a strong, resilient people who have faced many hardships over the years. I grew up hearing the stories about the Caminada hurricane, the hurricanes of 1915 and 1926, and hurricanes of my lifetime. I heard stories of struggle and survival and I saw them replayed and brought to life with the strength of daddy’s hands.

I look at my own hands and I have determination, I have hope!



Michael “T.Mayheart” Dardar
Sept. 2005-09-15
 

Houma Community on Spanish Pass after hurricane Camille in 1969

Houma Community "the Village" after hurricane Katrina