Photos by Kristen Hebert Click here for photos

Saturday afternoon, my wife Nicole's family sat around her aunt's dining room table trying to get calls into their Vermilion Parish hometown of Erath. Seeking shelter in Baton Rouge since the early hours of Friday morning, our cell phone service was sketchy at best -- the table a strange conduit of reception. Piece by piece and call by call, listening to the speaker on her step-father's Motorola Razor, they started to grasp the extent of flooding.

Then someone spoke the stark words that voiced their fears: "Erath is under water."

The next day while Nicole, our dog and I sped home to clean up and cover our shingle damage with mint green tarp, the Heberts -- her mother Yvette, sister Kristen and step-father Chris -- and the Bernards -- her sister Andrea and husband Scott -- had planned to attend mass before venturing back. Yet, the uncertainty of their home's condition -- they knew it would be under water, they just didn't know how bad -- got the best of their imagination and called them back to Erath.

From reports finally appearing on the news and stringed-together details, it was clear they could not drive into town. Authorities also were not allowing residents to travel by boat for fear of striking debris and sinking. On the way home, they stopped off and purchased hip waders, determined to reach their house even if it meant trudging through waist-deep, murky and potentially contaminated water.

Setting out around the Highway 14 bypass, which connects Erath to Abbeville, they crossed a pasture on foot before being spotted by a friend in a high truck that could take them part of the way. All the while, 13-year-old Kristen snapped pictures with her digital camera. The truck stopped at the Bank of Erath, and they continued on foot walking down Broadway, one of the main streets in town. Erath High and its stadium, the church and the Acadian Museum, as well as both the Hebert's house and Yvette's parents', Richard and Dolores Dubois, home are all located on Broadway. The street now, as Scott put it, is more Broadway Canal. Well past the road's shoulders, well into the yards on both sides, Broadway is under water.

In the neighborhood, a couple jet skiers sped about too fast and possibly stole the school's flag from its bent-over pole. Other than a downed tree and the pole, there appeared to be little wind damage from the storm. Into one neighbor's yard washed an above-ground tomb from the nearby cemetery. A casket floated into another area. In one resident's carport, a boat is hitched. One of their friends joked he never thought he would have a boat launch in his front yard. Across the bypass on 339, the countryside looked like a massive lake, with choppy waters instead of a settlement. At the stadium Saturday's water was said to be a foot shy of topping a blue fence which stands at least six feet tall.

At the Dubois house, which sits flat on a foundation, it was as feared. A year ago, her family decorated the backyard in white lights and flowers, set up tables adorned with candles and tablecloths and rented a dance floor for our wedding reception. The day of the wedding, one of my groomsmen walked upstairs and was startled to find some guys watching television. It dawned on him that the reception hall he thought he was at was actually someone's house. Now in the kitchen where I've eaten too many good Sunday meals -- often eating too much, despite my wife's best intentions -- knee deep brown water laps midway up the dining table. The day before, it nearly crested at the table's surface. Their furniture, a purchase from a redecoration a few years ago, seeps in a pond of storm water. Down the hall, the new computer they had just bought and placed off the ground out of harm's way before the storm had been topped by water.

Next door Chris and Yvette's house, which was built on piers, faired a little better. Outside, the level was now flush with the bottom of their door, though it was a couple feet off the ground. Inside it had receded. Wood floors covered in mud bore witness to the gunk passing through the house. Still in good spirits, a joking Kristen knelt down in the water to trick them into thinking the water was deeper that it was. Under the carport, Scott and Andrea left their car and truck thinking they would fair better here than at their house near Bayou Tigue. Both Scott's Ford Ranger and Andrea's Dodge Avenger saw water halfway up their doors. Scott thinks his truck will run again with a new battery but counts it as a loss for Andrea's car.

After stopping by the church where Andrea and Scott are active in Life Teen -- inside a mural of Jesus' face is chin deep in water -- they soldiered on across town to their house.

To get there, they had to cross the railroad tracks that cut through and divide town. Although visible Sunday, on Saturday the tracks were completely submerged.

Before the storm water picked up, Scott received word that the water only reached the first step of their elevated house. Married in June, the couple bought the house and completely remodeled it, revealing handsome pine floors. In one room, they stored their wedding gifts they didn't have space for elsewhere. When the five of them reached the house, it bore a bright neon mark on the door, a sign search and rescue has checked the house and found no one. Under the carport, a flipped-over glider and an enviable gas grill peeked above water. Inside, the water mostly drained but the damage was still present. In the back yard, a fishing hole.

Erath is under water. Yet, there is more destructive flooding. Friends of ours in Delcambre had water higher than their stove. Others reported even higher marks. Overall, so is much of Vermilion Parish after facing a 10-foot or greater storm surge. Luckily, there are either no deaths or very few.

There's something about Erath that both keeps its own there and draws those who do leave back. Many of Nicole's friends and family never leave. Those who do venture back as often as possible for family gatherings that seem to come around almost weekly. If not, they return for Erath High's Homecoming and the Fourth of July festival. As soon as insurance checks go out, but more likely sooner, Erath's own will return.

On Monday, my in-laws were heading back to start cleaning up whatever they could. Many like them, I am sure, will do the same. Who knows when the conditions will be livable again. In the meantime, the Heberts are staying with us until we can once again say our family lives in Erath.