For now over 75 years, The Baylor Line has been publishing vivid storytelling from across the Baylor Family. I don’t think our archives full of deep, inspirational features should live solely on shelves, so we are bringing them back to life in BL Classics. This 1969 Classic article shares the powerful experience of Baylor graduates pastor Larry Rohrman and his wife Sonya O’Neal, during and after Hurricane Camille along the Gulf Coast. In their town of Biloxi, Mississippi, their family garnered available resources to care for their neighbors affected by the storm, distributing food and supplies to their community. In the face of great tragedy, this hurricane recovery story holds an immense amount of hope.
“Simon Peter, lovest thou me?”
“Lord, thou knowest it.”
“Feed my sheep.”
The First Baptist Church of Biloxi normally has two Sunday morning worship services, with from 700 to 1,000 persons in attendance. Last Aug. 17 about 250 attended the 8:45 service and only 50 persons came at 11.
Like most residents of Mississippi’s Gulf Coast, the members of the church were spending that Sunday morning nailing boards on the windows of their businesses, piling their furniture on the highest supporting structure in their homes or packing their bags and getting out of town.
The 60,000 citizens of the charming old resort city of Biloxi had been warned that Hurricane Camille was likely to blow in from the Gulf of Mexico sometime Sunday evening or night with winds exceeding 150 miles an hour.
The pastor of First Baptist Church, the Rev. Larry C. Rohrman (B.A. ’60), cancelled Sunday evening services and his wife (Sonya O’Neal, B.A. ‘60), made the agonizing decision to remain in Biloxi during the storm. This is their story of the storm.
“The place for a pastor to be in a time of disaster is on his church field and not some place out of town. My wife decided she wanted to be with me. We were confused as to sending the children out of Biloxi for their safety, but finally decided that we would all brave the storm together.
“At 9 the wind started blowing so hard that it was too late to leave so we simply closed up the house and began the long vigil.”
Staying with Rohrmans were eight young church members from all over the U.S. who worked in Biloxi. They were afraid to stay in the apartment house they lived in. One of their apartments was totally destroyed. Anyone in it would have been killed or injured.
“By 11 you could hear pine trees so large one could scarcely reach around them breaking like toothpicks and falling around the house.”
Near the Rohrman home seven large trees fell — the pines snapped in two and the oaks pulled up by the roots. The trees in the front yard fell forward, and the trees in the back yard fell backward, miraculously preserving the house. Flood water came within one foot of the house. Across the street every family lost everything, except one family which lost only the downstairs of the house. Raging water had ripped through the backs of the houses, leaving a foot of mud behind. The street was filled with fallen trees. Debris covered everything.
“About 4 in the morning the wind subsided enough that those of who were very weary could go to sleep lying on the hallway floor and in the living room.
“At 6 I was awakened by a knock on my door. Answering it. I discovered a man about 50 years old standing there in his underwear — the only thing he had left in the world. He had had to swim from his house to save his life. I gave him some of my clothes. Later he became ill and we took him to the hospital. I haven’t seen him since.
“There’s something pitiful about a 50-year-old man with nothing in the world but his underclothing. Little did I know that that scene was going to be multiplied again and again.”
Outside Rohrman could barely see the house across the street because of the debris in the front yard. He picked some of it up but could find no place to deposit it, so put it back where he found it. There was no electricity, no water, no telephone, no means of transportation or communication.
“One who has not seen destruction of this magnitude cannot comprehend it. An accurate description of much of my neighborhood and the Gulf Coast is wrapped up in one word, GONE. We didn’t venture far from the house until finally it came to me that I should check on some of my church families—particularly the widows or those who husbands were overseas in the Air Force.”
By Tuesday noon Rohrman had visited all of these women he could get to. Some roads were impassable. Some homes were destroyed and he knew no way to find the occupants.
“Somehow I wound up at Civil Defense Headquarters. The mayor, Daniel Buice, told me that the Red Cross was finding it difficult to get food and clothing to homeless Biloxi people. He asked me to go to the Red Cross headquarters and suggest ways to accomplish this task.”
The Red Cross Headquarters at Biloxi Community Center was chaotic. Monday night 45 trucks from Baton Rouge, La., were unloaded in the center. Food and clothing lay in one huge pile that touched all four walls. By Tuesday morning Biloxi was starving. A thousand people converged on the center, forced their way in and fought like rats on a garbage heap for the food and clothing.
“As we unlocked the boxes we could almost see a mother in Jackson, Natchez, Union or any other place, standing at her kitchen table trying to put in that box just those things she would want if she were unpacking it for her family in Biloxi. Love dripped off the shirt sleeves of the people of our state and nation.”
The National Guard had to stop them. By the time Rohrman arrived, 1500 persons were outside the building, separated from the food and clothing they needed by guardsmen with loaded rifles.
When his suggestions for distributing food and clothing were rejected by Red Cross officials, Rohrman returned to the mayor’s office. After explaining a distribution plan he and the mayor’s cousin, Dick Guice, had evolved, Rohrman was surprised to hear the mayor tell hum to put the plan into practice.
“We went to the Buena Vista Hotel (the city’s largest) and turned their convention center room into the central distribution center for all food and clothing that came into our city for the next five days. All caravans and trucks that came into our city were sent directly to the Buena Vista for unloading.
“We borrowed 100 men under the direction of six sergeants from Keesler Air Force Base. They unloaded the food and clothing and stacked it neatly in lines. Aisles led to any piece of goods that any individual might need.
“To hand a child a clean pair of pants when he doesn’t have any or a nice pair of shoes and to see the light of love and joy in the face of the mother of that child is a reward far too great to be spoken with words.”
“Dick went out into the city and found eight locations in the most devastated areas of the city and set up distribution centers. We then asked people to bring pickup trucks to the central center, and we began trucking the food and clothing to the eight locations as it was needed. They were manned by people from the particular neighborhood who knew the needs and who would be sympathetic to their neighbors in need.
“We continued this for the next five and a half days without more than two house rest a day until the immediate problem was alleviated. I realized that I was a pastor and needed to get back that work.”
Rohrman asked to be relieved and recommended the distribution be turned over to the Salvation Army, which did, in his words, “a magnificent job” for the next two weeks. After that time, all money and supplies were coming in via the Red Cross which assumed the job.
The First Baptist Church during those first weeks opened its doors to hungry people and was one of the neighborhood distribution centers. Members worked day and night sorting clothes and handing out food. They also fed the 100 Airmen from Keesler, so they would not lose time going to and from the base for meals.
“I am told that our church was feeding about 1500 hot meals a day, and I would say that had it not been for those 100 Airmen it is quite possible that many in our city would have facced dire physical strain. Those men made it possible for us to take the food to the people.
“Later we began getting things like clean sheets and mattresses, pillows and pillowcases, and these were distributed to anyone who had a specific need. There was no difference shown because of race, creed, color or economic position.
“Later we began getting things like clean sheets and mattresses, pillows and pillowcases, and these were distributed to anyone who had a specific need. There was no difference shown because of race, creed, color or economic position.
“As we unloaded the boxes we could almost see a mother in Jackson, Natchez, Union or any other place standing at her kitchen table trying to put in that box just those things she would want if she were unpacking it for her family in Biloxi. Love dripped off the shirt sleeves of the people of our state and nation. Knee deep in mire and mud, the people of the Gulf Coast were made to rejoice again and again as wonderful people shared because they cared.
“Later we began receiving money from churches throughout the nation, and we have taken that money and bought things such as mattresses and refrigerators. We found specific needs and gave the people what they needed to go back to some sort of normal living.
“Often we found small children sleeping on soggy mattresses, and took great delight in providing them a clean, warm place to sleep. None of us here at First Baptist Church feel we have done anything of any merit. It is a tremendous joy and privilege to help people when they need help, and for us to have been in a position to help simply made it possible for us to receive more joy and happiness than one should receive in a lifetime.
“To hand a child a clean pair of pants when he doesn’t have any or a nice pair of shoes and to see the light of love and joy in the face of the mother of that child is a reward far too great to be spoken of with words.”
Not all the Good Samaritans survived. Rohrman told of a couple who stayed at their service station, providing gasoline for fleeing Coast families, until the storm was so severe they could not escape. After the water was five feet deep in the station, the husband strapped his daughter to his back with his belt, took his son in one arm and held his wife’s hand and started out of the station.
The winds, at 200 miles an hour, ripped the child from his back and his wife from his hand, and he has not seen them since. He and his son swam to safety. Hurricane Camille treated one of Rohrman’s deacons and his family in typical fashion. Water started coming into their home and was soon over the tops of the tables. The family climbed into the attic for the storm’s duration. Rohrman asked him if he was frightened during that long night.
“Yes, preacher, I was scared to death,” he replied; “We just prayed and sang hymns all night.”
Families such as these who lived near the Rohrmans found a place to eat at the pastor’s home.
“My wife began cooking at least two hot meals a day, feeding as many as 25 and 30 people. If you want to try improvising some day, turn off all your water, all of your lights, all of your refrigeration, and try to feed 25 people two hot meals a day by cooking on a charcoal grill. I shouldn’t brag, but I discovered that what I have suspected for a long time is absolutely the truth, that I was fortunate enough to marry one of the finest girls in all the world. Sonya held the tradition of the Baylor Line with such high purpose that everyone around noticed what she had done.”
Sunday morning, Aug. 25, was quite different from the previous Lord’s Day at Biloxi First Baptist.
“Our church was packed. Not a dry eye could be seen from the time the service began to its final prayer. Never have the words of the Doxology meant so much to our people. We continued our worship by singing “Count Your Blessings,” and then “This Is My Father’s World.” Our tears were tears of joy, not defeat and depression.
“We know for a fact that it is far better to lay up in store for ourselves treasures in Heaven where neither moth nor rust can corrupt, nor thieves break through to steal. We are closer to God than ever before.
“The sermon that day was entitled ‘The Church in Shirt Sleeves.’ Too long have we sat with coat and tie within the four walls of the church. Finally we have rolled up our sleeves and gotten out where the needs of the people exist. God has gotten great glory from this hurricane.”
The church building was not damaged seriously by the storm. Sunday School classes had to be moved to make room for the disaster relief distribution and feeding rooms. The church had to scale down its financial obligations and prepare for reduced income from its membership, for, as Rohrman said, “The tithe of nothing is nothing.”
The miraculous news that no member of the church was among the hundreds killed.
“There’s something pitiful about a 50-year-old man with nothing in the world but his underclothing. Little did I know that that scene was going to be multiplied again and again.”
When Biloxi was starving, the mayor called on Rohrman to take the lead in feeding it. When the community gathered together for the first time after the storm, the mayor again asked Rohrman to provide — this time, food for thought.
It was halftime of the first high school football game.
In a speech that noted that “on the garden spot of God’s creation, property had become rubbish, beauty became ruin and materialism became a thing of the past,” Rohrman concluded by saying:
“We must build it back. The American spirit demands it. I have faith in America. I have faith in you. Let us decide here and now to give our children — those unborn generations to come — a happier day, a nobler heritage, a better world. Here we are, history behind us, opportunity before us. We are Americans and we will push on. With faith in God, belief in our fellow man and hope for our future, we will build it back. A better Biloxi, a better Coast, a better America.”
