ABOUT THIS SERIES

In December 2005, a contingent of Poynter faculty and staff members, along with representatives from the Dart Center for Journalism & Trauma, traveled to the Gulf Coast to work with journalists who were dealing with the aftermath of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. In anticipation of the three-day concurrent seminars in Biloxi, Miss., and New Orleans, Poynter faculty members asked each participant to write a short essay about his or her experience in the days that followed the storm. Those essays, published here for the first time, with the permission of the journalists who wrote them, will continue to appear on Poynter.org throughout our weeklong remembrance of the one-year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. Some of the participants agreed to go one step further and provide us with an update of their experiences, which you will find after some of the essays. Click here to see the compilation of essays, which we will add to throughout the week.

DECEMBER 2005:  It's hard to forget Donald Jacko.

He's a Hurricane Katrina evacuee I interviewed as he waited to apply for financial assistance and social services at Ford Park, the entertainment center-turned-Red Cross shelter.

Floodwaters rose quickly in his Ninth Ward home as the hurricane made landfall. He rushed his wife, mother-in-law and two young sons to the attic hours before the storm made landfall.

As his family huddled in the attic for several hours, their home floated five blocks. Thankfully, debris knocked a hole in the roof.

Jacko pulled his family through the hole. His wife, the last pulled through the hole, was stuck on something.

As the house floated, it slammed into something and split open. The impact yanked his wife beneath the water. Her mother tried to rescue her and fell in, too. Both women drowned.

About an hour later, his wife surfaced right beside the house. Debris covered her face, but they recognized her belly. They could see her when they stood up.

Sometime later, Jacko's 5-year-old son, who learned to swim over the summer, fell into the water. He managed to swim to a tree and hold on for several hours.

Jacko feared he might drown in the rushing waters so he waited and instead kept talking to his son to keep the youngster calm.

A boater rescued them after two days. They spent another three days at the Superdome before making their way to Houston. Their family in Port Arthur found them in Houston and brought them to Southeast Texas.

As I interviewed him, he spoke in a slow, weary voice.

He said his sons hadn't even cried.

I expected him to cry, but I guess it was still all too surreal.