I've pretty much given up on making it home as the wind is tossing us around and the rain is falling so hard that we can't see. I called Brent Manuel with the Lake Charles Fire Department to see what its like in town and he tells me the Fire Department is holed up in Oberlin at the City Hall. He tells us to get over there and that they have plenty of room for us. Even the Police are gone, many of them are in Kinder.

Peter and I are on walkie talkies and agree that we've come as far as we can. Brent talks me in to the City Hall as Julie is keeping me updated on Lake Charles. As bad as it is here, its worse there.

The mood in the Hall is gloomy. The generator is operating a small TV that gives us a snowy picture of KPLC broadcasting from St. Patrick's Hospital in Lake Charles. The story coming out of town is scary. People are calling in to describe parts of buildings flying past them. Water is rising.

I spent over an hour in the car. Too impatient. I'm scanning the radio stations and TV at the same time. My internet is still working so I'm trying to follow radar images of the storm which looks like it is barely moving. It looks like when it hits, it will hit for a very long time. Somehow Peter managed to go inside and get some sleep. I can't even think of sleeping; I am too wired. I'm ready to get home. The more I hear the scarier this thing gets. I'm thinking about the basketball goal I forgot to take down, the big pine trees next to the house, all the things that I'll find scattered in various parts of my house.

The winds are now tossing the car around and its starting to sound like a freight train blowing through. I just heard what I think was a telephone pole hit something. Time to go inside.

Incredibly lots of people are sleeping; there are over 100 people in here. Maybe 20 are standing or sitting around a table watching TV; the rest of us are pacing. This storm is not moving. Its basically hovering over Cameron and drawing a bead straight for Lake Charles. On KPLC they are reporting sustained winds of over 100 mph. They reported that the Terminal at the airport collapsed. In the midst of this, and right before we lose cell phone coverage, I get a call. My burglar alarm is going off. I can't believe it took this long, and at least it proves the phones are still on. The dispatcher doesn't seem to know about the storm. Since the garage set it off, that means that at least the pine tree next door isn't inside; neither is the basketball goal. I tell her to take a pass on sending anyone out there just yet.

KPLC lost much of their incoming communication, much of what we are hearing now is phoned in by listeners. Reports filter in of Interstate overpasses collapsing or caving in, we heard that a barge lost its mooring and is headed for the I-210 bridge. There is some question of whether one of the gaming boats are gone. The winds are not slowing down.

It dawns on me that Erin and the boys think we are staying in Alexandria. If they call looking for us they will panic. None of our cellphones are working; I decide I have to get out of here and near communication before they wake up.

I spend over an hour trying to find Peter. He is sleeping somewhere in this hall. There is no light. I know better than trying to shine a light in here; these guys need their sleep. I'm walking around holding up my cellphone and trying to see him by the light.

KPLC announces that they think the eye has passed. One of the firemen yells out for Peter and he surfaces.

The Chief says that we may not leave until sometime around noon. First, the winds have to subside to a point of safety, maybe 30 mph; second the roads have to be cleared. I hadn't even thought about the roadways, but Highway 165 has to be a mess. The firemen are itching to go, but they are told that even if they were cutting trees out of the way, the power lines are hanging everywhere and will be the real hazards.

I can't wait until noon. The winds are hovering between 40 and 50 so Peter and I take off. They think, they know we are nuts. No one thinks we will make it more than a mile or two before we get stuck.