A story about Hancock Medical Center:

On Sunday afternoon, August 28, Hancock Medical Center’s department managers and supervisors reported to the hospital for a planned “Code White” briefing on the approaching, still-strengthening Hurricane Katrina. Seasoned professionals with checklists in-hand, faces around the room looked concerned as latest coordinates were released on the enormous red mass on the tracking map.  Little did they know, 24 hours later they would reflect on a catastrophic event that called on all the courage, strength and endurance they could muster.

The “lockdown” period began that Sunday afternoon, with 35 patients unable to be discharged to other facilities. Included in that number were five intensive care, 30 medical/surgical patients and one newborn. A decision had been made to locate all patients on the main floor of the building for staffing efficiency and in the event of roof damage. Flood was not a consideration, as the hospital is located on high ground, far from water.  After an uneventful night, staff noted significant wind activity outside the facility early Monday. About 9:30 a.m. a call from the medical staff president, checking on the hospital’s status would be one of the last communications with the outside world for days.  Employees watched in disbelief as rising water, complete with whitecaps, washed through the parking lot and up to the doors. Initial attempts to sandbag were unsuccessful; the need to move patients to the second floor became apparent and urgent.  Moving water resembling the Gulf of Mexico swirled automobiles around the parking lot, and staff worked feverishly to transport critical patients by elevator. Generators succumbed to flooding and darkness swept over the building, and remaining patients were carried up the stairwell to safety on the backs of physicians and facilities services staff.  Staff waited and prayed for the hurricane eye-wall to pass; knowing winds would shift and force waters back to their origin. Eerily, sunshine appeared…winds were calmed, and waters began to quickly recede over the next hours. Fish, crabs and a snapping turtle were deposited in the hospital along the way.

Adrenaline, compassion and desire to heal fueled the next 48 hours until the first Disaster Military Assistance arrived Wednesday.  Hundreds of community residents, many surviving by hanging on trees, walked miles to seek medical care. HMC’s staff was there. The U. S. Coast Guard began rescuing survivors from rooftops and transporting them by helicopter to the hospital. In return, they flew the hospital’s critical patients to accepting facilities.  Some 75% of HMC’s staff and physicians lost residences and/or possessions to violent winds and water. Included in that number are Administrator Hal W. Leftwich, DBA, FACHE, and Facilities Services Director Hank Wheeler, who both spent the first 14 nights after the storm on air mattresses under the canopy of the hospital’s business office. The two spent the next month in patient rooms on the second floor. Both purchased travel trailers, and now live on the hospital campus until their residences are rebuilt.