VERMILION PARISH, LA - As Hurricane Katrina dominated national headlines in the late summer of 2005, another storm, just as fierce, carved its path through the Gulf, leaving devastation that would be largely overshadowed in public memory. For many in Louisiana’s Vermilion Parish, the name Hurricane Rita evokes pain, loss, and resilience.
"Rita was like a forgotten storm in the shadow of Katrina," said Hank Moss, a fourth-generation farmer in the tiny community of Boston, near Henry.
On September 24, 2005, just three weeks after Katrina, Hurricane Rita, the most intense tropical storm ever recorded in the Gulf at the time barreled ashore, delivering a second, crushing blow to Louisiana’s vulnerable coastal parishes. It was a category 5 in the gulf and made landfall as a category 3.
"It was heart-wrenching," said Warren Perrin, a longtime Henry resident.
For Moss, whose family home was built in 1913, the storm changed everything.
“We were seven children, my mother, my father, my grandmother, my grandfather,” Moss recalled. “It was a safe space. Everyone has a memory of their childhood home.”
As the storm approached, Moss stayed behind to help evacuate cattle from his farm. "It got late, the electricity went off, and the weather started getting bad. The wind was blowing. We could no longer evacuate and the cattle couldn’t see what we were doing," he said. “We left about 100 heads behind on a levee.”
Rob Perillo, chief meteorologist at KATC-TV, was tracking the storm in real time.
“This is what the land looked like before the storm, and this is what it looked like after,” Perillo said, pointing to satellite imagery. “All of this dark area is water, Gulf water that reached anywhere between 15 to 30 miles inland.”
Entire communities were swallowed by the surge. Roads vanished. Homes were obliterated.
From Baghdad to back home
Retired U.S. Army veteran Zan Beckett had just returned from a deployment in Baghdad with the 256th Infantry Brigade when Rita threatened Louisiana.
“Between Katrina and Rita, we packed up all our stuff and redeployed back to Louisiana,” Beckett said.
But rest was not an option. Beckett quickly mobilized to help his community, partnering with local shrimp boat captains to rescue vessels from floodwaters.
“No one really waited around,” Beckett said. “We put the boat in at the Perry Bridge and had to take the river all the way down to the intercoastal. I wasn't the only one.” In total, Beckett helped save 20 shrimping boats.
Graves and schools
Elsewhere in the parish, officials faced grim and unusual challenges.
“It was just a floating casket or grave, like a cement grave,” said Homer Stelly, director of Vermilion Parish’s Office of Emergency Preparedness. “You’d be surprised what water can do when it comes in.”
Stelly, a sergeant major at the time, was tasked with relocating approximately 100 displaced graves.
The harrowing experience reshaped Stelly's approach to disaster preparation.
“You have to figure out how much damage you have in your parish and to your city and start prioritizing what to do next,” he said.
In nearby Henry, the storm tore through the heart of the community, the town’s high school, the first built in the parish.
“People could pick books up from the library if they wanted to, and so you’d often run into friends salvaging through the school before they finally tore it down,” said Perrin, who attended Henry High School.
Unshakable memories
Back on his porch two decades later, Hank vividly recalls the moment he returned to see what the storm had left behind.
“When I saw my home with water to the roof, it was a traumatic experience,” he said.
Despite carrying a camera, Moss said he couldn’t bring himself to document the destruction. “A picture would not have done justice to what my eyes were seeing,” he said quietly. “And I didn’t want to look at it again.”
