SPECIAL REPORT: Remembering Katrina 10-Years Later; Living At Station, Broadcasting From Under A Cabana

THE MOUTH, AUGUST 26TH, 2015 –– This week marks the 10th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. For the occasion, Jockline will be sharing stories of how radio responded to one of our country's, most deadly and destructive storms. Among the many unforgetable memories comes from Wayne Watkins Program Director WQBB-FM/BOB 105.9 Alpha Media. Like many others along the gulf coast, he lost his home and began living at his station where he broadcast under a tarp (above right)

Watkins tells Jockline, "New Orleans got a levee break, the Mississippi Gulf Coast got Katrina.' After losing his home (upper left photo of neighborhood) he eventually got a ride to the radio station to let everyone know he was fine, but said 'the only thing I owned was the soiled clothes on my back, full of diesel fuel and seaweed. I decided to live in the radio station lobby for a while, we needed security, the place had lost it’s roof and was totally water-logged. We got one studio live, and simulcasted post-Katrina from under a plastic homemade cabana!.

"I was Program Director of then Classic Rock 105.9 WXRG (Now Alpha's WQBB-FM) and we at Triad Broadcasting had weathered many storms previously, but had no idea of the severity of what we were about to go through. As part of the Mississippi Gulf Coast Emergency Network, we worked hand in hand with our media partner WLOX-TV, and began round the clock coverage as soon as Katrina became a major hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico and our area went under a hurricane warning. We remained on the air as the storm approached, airing the non-stop WLOX coverage…and I made it home that Sunday night as the storm approached to get some rest and prepare my home for the storm as best I could (I lived a block off the beach in West Gulfport).

The news was a bit encouraging as it looked like Katrina was Louisiana bound towards Grand Isle, and reports were as I feel asleep that we’d get conditions no worse than Hurricane George (1998). I slept soundly until about 6am that Monday, as the sound of howling winds grew and trees began beating against the house. I was determined to stay… I wasn’t leaving an elderly neighbor alone across the street…and I had escaped many a hurricane before, and ridden many storms out. My roommate of many years, Kreg Hoag, and my sisters in Louisiana gave me an earful when they learned I was still at the house.

Kreg was working on a Norwegian cruise ship and was in Alaska when Katrina hit. To my alarm as I first peeked out my kitchen door, the Gulf of Mexico was already lapping a foot or so and rising rapidly on my back porch. Adrenaline kicked in immediately, I had two doggies and several kitties to tend to, not to mention old man Bob across the street and his four terriers. I opened the attic (and steps) for the kitties in case they needed to rise up higher, wished them luck and grabbed the pooches and headed out in my truck across the street where Bob’s lot sat a coupla feet higher than mine. We got all six of our small dogs together, and kept our eye on the surge. In it came…getting higher and higher.

Bob and I resorted to trying to keep all six dogs on his couch, as we held the couch and began to ride the storm surge waves and they blew out the back of his house. There was a couple of times I had to swim and grab a pooch as it began floating off…but by the grace of God they were calm and remained in place. I was braced facing the Gulf and could see when another battering wave was moving in, and would holler “Brace” as we were swept up, almost hitting our heads on the ceiling. We were within inches of having to make the painful decision of getting on the roof, and having to let the beloved pets go. But luckily, the surge peaked after a coupla hours, and began to go down.

I looked over at my house, where the water had gotten to the top of my window and door sills, fearing the worst for my kitties. The outcoming surge raised the windows in my house and the water was storming out. I was hoping I wouldn’t see any of my babies being swept out to sea. We all survived at Bob’s battered place, now I had to get across the street and account for my cats. Luckily, there was about half a foot left before they would have drowned. My couch cushions and dresser mirror acted as rafts for them all! I vowed never to them or my family through anything like this ever again. We were totally cut off from the outside world, and could not get word out that we survived.

Reading the archive of e-mails between my roommate, my sisters, ex-wife Julie and friends is an eye-opener. Never again. Friends got in by Thursday, and I got a ride to the radio station to let all know I was fine, but the only thing I owned was the soiled clothes on my back, full of diesel fuel and seaweed. I decided to live in the radio station lobby for a while, we needed security, the place had lost it’s roof and was totally water-logged.

We got one studio live, and simulcasted post-Katrina from under a plastic homemade cabana! It only got worse the following week and we got torrential rains again as Hurricane Rita passed to our south. As they say, the rest is history.

A special thanks to our Triad family of stations nationwide for their generosity to not only me, but other coworkers that also lost everything they owned. We’ve never woulda pulled through without the help of the countless number of volunteers (especially church groups) that poured in almost immediately. I pray no one has to go thru a storm like Katrina ever again, I know if I do, I’m outta here!