The Storm

I said my goodbyes and made a u-turn back to the main road that went back through Ruby, making my way to the main road 15 miles east. "Ruby. What an interesting place," I thought. "No alligator people after all. Just folks. Good folks." The trip back to Baton Rouge seemed to take no time at all. I was soon at the outskirts of the city and headed back to the command post to meet up with Major Peterson once again. I had radioed on the way and everything was set up for me as requested. The Major drove me back to the airport and we chatted briefly about what I had found. He seemed totally focused on the emergency service operation and not too much on what some puny reporter was doing or saying. He was friendly enough, but somewhat distant this time. "Goes with the job," I thought. I sure wouldn’t want to do it. My boss had done a good job at the logistics of the mission and getting me safely in and out. I had retrieved my boarding pass and waded through security with no belt, shoes off, and with my billfold, keys, and camera in a bucket, and waiting for my personal belongings to be scanned. No problems! The timing was perfect, as I didn't have a long wait at the gate, which was unusual. I was soon boarded and sitting comfortably in my assigned seat, and I collapsed in my weariness as the plane lifted off the runway and fell fast asleep with the muffled roar of the jet engines. Later, I was awakened by the kind voice of the flight attendant as she instructed me to position my seat for landing. I must have been really tired. I had slept all the way.

The excitement of getting back home was overwhelming. Louisiana now seemed a million miles away and like a dream,

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