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-- Special edition --
September 10, 2005
Katrina on our heels
By Samantha Perez
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Michel Lee/ The Tattoo
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Bossier City, LA - Aug. 30, 2005
Dad threw open my door Sunday morning.
“Sam, what are you doing? This
isn’t a game!” He stormed out.
I looked at my alarm clock: 2:30 a.m. The
note was lying next to me on the ground. I
picked it up and held it. Mom walked in. “Sam, where’s the instruction book for your phone?” Apparently, my grandparents do not know enough about cellular phones, and they needed a book. You know, so they know how to dial a number. Whatever. I’d been planning on packing some last-minute things this morning, but mom had another idea. I went outside. Mom
had packed my backpacks into the car already. I
knew I had packed the instruction manual, but I had no idea where it was.
I hadn’t thought my grandparents would need instruction on dialing a
number on a cell phone. Starting the day after Hurricane Katrina stormed across the Gulf Coast, killing thousands and chasing millions from their homes, 17-year-old Samantha Perez began to tell her heartbreaking story. This is the second printed installment, containing her second and third diary entries. To read all of Perez's work, including later entries, follow link.
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© 2005 by The Tattoo. All rights reserved. | ||