It has been 10 years since Hurricane Katrina changed my family dynamics. Until then, I was a little sister. Less then a year after Katrina , I was an orphan. Before Katrina, I was Aunt Leona, after Katrina, I was the family matriarch. I remember Pearl
Harbor. I remember when President Franklin Roosevelt died. I remember exactly what I was doing when I learned about September 11. I remember Hurricane Katrina in that same way. I remember that my sister evacuated to Austin, Texas from her home on 4433 S. Johnson
Street, New Orleans. I still have her phone number in my address book. She never came back to that house. Emotionally and physically,she never came back to New Orleans. I am sad about that. I am sorry that she wasn't stronger. I am sorry that I still feel
sad that she lost hope. I thought that she was stronger. I thought that I was the little sister who needed to be protected. I know that I tried , but in the end, she was just too tired to fight. I just have to remember that I tried.