 "Photo: Mandy Derfler")
GULF COAST - Driving east from the Gulf Coast of Texas to Louisiana and Mississippi, motorists see blue-caped roofs zip by, the first signs of hurricane damage.
Exiting Interstate 10 and venturing further into the devastated towns of these coastal regions reveals gutted homes with a lifetime's possessions shoveled curbside.
In some areas affected by Hurricane's Katrina and Rita, a nightly curfew remains in effect.
In Gulfport, Miss., two Army National Reservists are posted along Highway 90 to look for looters, though steps are all that remain of many homes.
At night along this stretch of Highway 90, beached casino boats draw onlookers, who residents see as the vanguard of the "new tourism."
Three months after Katrina and Rita's one two punch, communities in Louisiana, Mississippi and the Texas coast have shown a resiliency and a desire to rebuild even on unstable ground.
New Orleans, a hopeless and violent place in the first days after Katrina, remains an uneasy city for residents.
A long queue of cars evacuates the 9th Ward moments before the last shades of pink in the evening sky evaporate into blackness.
And everywhere in the city, messages of distress are tagged on homes, overpasses and businesses: "Harsh," "no mo Nagin," "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus." And then there are the bright orange pleas for "Help,"
Homes in devastated areas bear the date they were searched for survivors, most are eerily marked "9-11," but many others are marked "9-23," a reminder of the magnitude of the disaster.
One house in the Lower 9th Ward has several handwritten signs on the front gate. "Are Katrina trinkets worth the price of your soul?" one sign asks potential looters, while another warns, "I sleep sometimes God never sleeps."
David Beasley, a retired police officer working as the head of security at a New Orleans East Home Depot, said he still hears gunshots behind the store at night.
On Dec. 26, a man holding a knife was surrounded by eight police officers and fatally shot when he resisted arrest. It was later determined the man was mentally ill.
Abandoned refrigerators in and around the French Quarter bear the spray painted accusation, "NOPD beat me down."
Days after the fatal shooting, the New Orleans Police Department used the local newspaper to advertise a phone number for victims of police brutality to have claims investigated.
Workers are in demand because of the acute housing shortage. Several national fast food chains have advertised on billboards that a new employee is eligible for a signing bonus of more than $1,000, and hourly pay is double the minimum wage.
In East Texas, the town of Sabine Pass is struggling to recover from Hurricane Rita.
Sam and Karen Garrison saw the home next door bulldozed to the curb Dec. 26. The same day, a bulldozer was finishing off a home only two blocks west.
The Garrisons' home stands as an empty shell. They spent their holidays in a FEMA-issued trailer.
But Sam Garrison says the federal government and relief agencies like the Red Cross get a lot of unwarranted bad press in their handling of recent disasters.
Garrison's gratitude toward the government may not have been echoed throughout the storm-damaged southern states, but he and his neighbors' determination to rebuild is.
The spirit of rebirth and recovery is thriving in these ravaged communities.
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