The Ranger Online

Issue date: 5/18/06 Section: J School Travels

Media Credit: Julie Ann Sanchez Ervine Nicholson moves car stops Dec. 29 near the lot where his business formerly stood. The building moved two lots away from its original foundation.

PORT SULPHUR - Ervin Nicholson labored in the muggy Louisiana afternoon Dec. 29. Sweat covered his brow while tiny biting insects swarmed his face.

His gloved hands guided a dolly through overgrown weeds. He stacked 14 car stops in a neat row. It was most of what he could salvage from a recreation center he opened in Port Sulphur a year ago.

The nearest amusement center is more than 40 miles away.

Hurricane Katrina's storm surge pushed Mr. Nichol Amusement across three lots. The smashed building collapsed in a giant heap more than 50 yards away from its foundation.

"I think there's a table in there that's still good," he said, as he shielded his eyes from the sun and bent low to peer into a hole in his building.

He pointed to pictures of what Mr. Nichol Amusement looked like before Hurricane Katrina.

"What really surprised me was the devastation," he said as he flipped through his pictures. "I saw everything was flat," he said.

Across the street, a brand new mobile home sagged over a tractor rig. Nicholson said the owners had bought it a few months before Hurricane Katrina hit.

"The lives of everyone in this community are destroyed," he said in a low voice.

Nicholson's broad shoulders slumped. He has no idea how long it will take for things to return to normal.

"I try not to think that far about it," he said sourly.

Mr. Nichol Amusement had 12 video games, two pool tables and a pinball machine.

"My favorite thing was to hold house parties for the kids so their parents don't have to pick up after them," Nicholson said.

Children used to frequent Mr. Nichol Amusement after school. He scouted the area two years ago during the annual Port Sulphur Carnival. Every year, the parade runs down Belle Chasse Highway and ends where Mr. Nichol Amusement used to sit.

Splintered wooden frames cover several twisted trailers. Dirty plastic shreds wave in the wind. Rusty axles rise out of the pile of trash. That is all that is left of last year's floats.

The town of 3,200 is practically empty. Few vehicles cross Belle Chasse Highway.

Continued...

Page 1 of 2 next >

Article Tools