Since my online connection may be a short-lived miracle, I'm not going to get too detailed, but I think maybe the Cone of Insanity took its revenge on me Monday. Our safe haven, a fishing camp on False River in Jarreau, LA, across from New Roads, became a terrifying reminder of why we try to get away from these storms and how futile our efforts often turn out to be. My own Cone of Decimation became a bull's eye as Gustav tore into Point Coupee parish at hurricane force for almost 5 hours. The storm ripped the roof off our camp at about 2:30pm and while we tried to salvage our precious belongings that had been carefully selected, packed and brought with us to protect them from what could happen at home, Gustav threw a massive water oak (or maybe a sycamore or pecan, I'm no tree expert), a telephone pole and some roof debris on our cars. When the ceiling started to bulge downwards towards us, we knew it was time to get out. This was when we discovered the cars were inaccessible, buried under 15 feet of debris and tangled power lines, hissing and flashing like giant sparklers on the 4th of July. If it wasn't for the courage, resourcefulness and generosity of the Olinde family across the road, I think my parents and I would be listed as casualties of the storm. I can't express the gratitude and debt I owe Miss Helen, who they call Miss Honey, her amazing grandson Andrew and the rest of her kind, selfless family. They are my heroes and I thank them for the incredible gift they've given me and my family.