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Old 09-27-2005, 12:10 AM
Bipa
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True American Pioneering Spirit lives on

Just felt like passing this along. Reminds me of tales from the early 1800's, when settlers just assumed that they had to be as self-sufficient as possible. These folks might be poor and lost what little they had, but they sure still have their pride intact!

September 26, 2005
Toronto Sun
Exclusive: Sun team finds stranded victims
In a remarkable tale of strength and survival, an extended family who refused to get out of the way of Hurricane Rita is now blocked by more than 5-km of fallen woods.
http://www.torontosun.com/News/World...35835-sun.html


'We didn't think we'd see no one'
Louisiana's lost souls hack their way out of the backwoods after Rita
By THANE BURNETT, IN LOUISIANA

DEE HEART RIVER BEND, La. -- The hardest kind of people are born on the banks of the muddy Sabine.

Today, cut off from the world, Biddy Baby and his kin are proving that.

Even the gators know better than to tangle with those who live in the line of remote cabins and trailers here. The police don't really come back to Dee Heart River Bend, in the thickest backwoods, where bandits and those just skittish of the law are known to live out their days.

Which is why no government official is coming now to rescue Biddy Baby and his family, trapped here. Which is why they must cut -- one fallen oak and pine at a time -- a path back to civilization.


Biddy Baby and Chloe Runte, 3, at their home in backwoods Louisiana. (David Lucas, Sun photo)

In a remarkable tale of strength and survival, an extended family who refused to get out of the way of Hurricane Rita, is now blocked by more than 5-km of fallen woods. To walk to the nearest open store is apparently 110- km away.

No federal, or state government, is going to rescue the man nicknamed Biddy Baby, and the others in Louisiana's lost camp. They are on their own. As they always have been.

Yesterday, Toronto Sun photographer David Lucas and I -- after the better part of a day trying to get to this river bend by car, then all terrain vehicle and foot -- became the first outsiders these people have seen since Rita made them prisoners.

Their fortitude is the stuff of legend. Their tale of survival is the stuff of lore.

We first heard about the lost camp from Sherry Arfati, as she sat on the porch of a cabin in Starks, La. She had made her way from a home on the banks of the Sabine River, before Rita followed that waterway up, three days ago.

"There's a man and his two boys, who refused to come on out," she explained. "Their momma just dropped them off with him one day, then left. They've lived there ever since.

"But we're sure Biddy Baby and the boys are dead now.

"I told him to come out. He said, 'Nah, we'll stay put."

It was the last anyone heard from Biddy Baby and the others, including a 3-year-old girl named Chloe.

Dee Heart River Bend is so remote, few people here even know how to start to spell it.

The people who live on that section of the river are largely dirt poor. Around Beauregard Parish they have a reputation as "Beans, rice and cornbread people."

They will soon begin hunting squirrels. They are comfortable in the skin of bare feet.

Their community has a reputation as an outlaw community. And they see "City people" as weak and untrustworthy.

Which is why no officials, or a world of news media covering Rita here, have noticed they've been missing.

But others have.

Jean Tubbs' homestead is the last place you can drive to, before faced with the great divide Biddy Baby and the people of Dee Heart are trapped behind. She, her family and friends are cutting into the lost camp from the outward side.

"I'm sick of hearing about New Orleans," says her daughter, Georgann Barks, who works for the local post office.

"This is Starks. No one's coming here (to help)." So they are doing it on their own.

There was word one of the cabins beyond the fallen woods had burnt down. That Rita had torn down others.

No one could reach the lost camp, even on the usually reliable CB radio.

To find our way here has been to break a new trail into a place even Copperhead snakes find challenging.

Flies and brush biting our skin, the engines of our ATVs burned as hot as the thick air, which pushed toward 100 F.

Sweat, and blood from at least one bad fall, dropped into the mud below our spinning wheels.

To find our way to Biddy Baby and his clan is to follow the clear path of destruction. It ends at the bend in the river -- and their lost camp.

Trailers are torn away, but a Confederate flag still flies.

The walls of one cabin -- some of the places are seasonal camps -- are all gone, leaving only the stove inside standing lonesome and exposed.

ANGRY EYE

Powerlines are threads tangled in the downed trees.

A large CB antenna bows to the ground.

It is impossible to think someone could survive a hurricane, which picked this place to cast its very angry eye at.

But at the very end, standing in a doorway, is Biddy Baby, and his unmovable family.

The oaks which have been pulled up have shallow roots. Not these people. They are sprung from the tough earth.

He is a big, friendly man. Though I suspect he would be less polite if we hadn't brought along a local to vouch for us.

His clothes were tattered -- his pants ripped off in jagged bits around the knees. His face showed no excitement. Just curiosity, and perhaps surprise.

"We didn't think we'd see no one," he told us.

They didn't think they mattered to anyone, he continued, as tiny Chloe, his niece, wrapped around his leg. Wearing nothing but a diaper, her skin was marked with red blisters. Could be chicken pox, could be flea bites, the adults figured.

But there is no getting her out to a doctor to see for sure.

And there's no getting ice to keep Rebecca Statum's insulin cool. Another woman in the group has cancer.

"And we've eaten most of the food, for it went bad," said Rebecca, walking through the cabin, built high on stilts.

The river is rising fast now. They expect it to reach a man's shoulder height soon.

Including Biddy Baby, there are seven people trapped in the lost camp. Biddy Baby -- who's not often called by his real name of Ken Statum -- spent the hurricane with a friend in his tiny camper. The others stayed in this cabin on stilts.

Rebecca slept through it. Chloe played through it.

These are some of the toughest people you will ever hack through 5 km of bush to meet.

"We didn't have no other place to go," Biddy Baby said.

"Decided here was best."

Their homes shook. The freight train so many have described Rita as being, made its way to a stop not even on many local maps.

"We got roughed up good," Biddy Baby explained. "But we gonna get out. Just take us awhile."

Because they're on their own. Exposure often comes to the city. It doesn't ever come to the river bend.

"We knew we'd be on our own," said Rebecca, hoisting Chloe up on her hip. "We'll be the last ones people would come in to help. They just forget about us here."

The last we saw of Biddy Baby and his kin, the sun was moving off. A military helicopter flew overhead, but did not hesitate over this bend in the river.

The men were back, hacking away at the barrel-thick trees which hold them in. They believe it'll take a week or more to clear it all. They may have electricity back by November.

During that time, they'll be able to catch catfish, and grill them on the porch. They'll be able to send someone out, hoping they come back with supplies.

But the people here won't be waiting for the world to find their lost camp.

"You gonna tell people 'bout us?" asked Biddy Baby, as we loaded up to make our way out of a place even our cellphone signals could not escape.

I told him yes. He paused, thought about that, then added: "Don't know whether anyone'll care."

The hardest kind of people are born on the banks of the muddy Sabine. And they are now hacking their way out.
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Old 10-03-2005, 08:42 AM
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I found that very interesting. Thanks for posting it.
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Old 10-03-2005, 03:09 PM
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I'd survive.

I got guns 'n hsit.
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Old 10-03-2005, 03:40 PM
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Peculiar how many people are surprised that there are those that prefer to live their lives detached from 'civilization'. Doesn't anyone ever get off the beaten path anymore? I've run into people like this in just about every state I've visited or lived.
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