When I think of Katrina and her aftermath there is one image I will never forget. It wasn\'t seeing the destruction of my home or that of my friends and family. It wasn\'t finding all your pictures and memories destroyed. It wasn\'t of the black mold that engulfed what once was my bedroom. It was the face of a 19 year old boy who lost his mother during katrina. I will never forget sitting up all night listening to him describe this tradegy and how it unfolded. His mom and dad deceided to stay for the storm and on that fateful night the water started rushing in. His mom ran to the bedroom to grab a few pictures but it was too late. The water poured in so quickly the pressure slammed the bedroom door shut. Her husband and son fought as hard as they could but to no avail. Soon they were pressed up against the ceiling and about to give in when his father gave one last punch and the ceiling finally broke. They made it out but they will never be the same. Their wife and mother lost her life that night. A part of them died that night. That is the image I will always remember. The face of a young man with a wound that will never fully heal.