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By the Thousands, Faithful Toil to Resurrect Gulf Cities
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Their misfortune is not something that the well-to-do Tucker has experienced in his life.
After retiring from the Air Force in 1989 after 20 years as a test pilot and weapons-procurement specialist, Tucker, 58, started a defense-contracting business.
In 1997, he sold it and turned full time to managing his investments. Married for 36 years, he and wife Peggy have two grown children.
In a convoy led by the "Mow Cow," stunned volunteers visiting East Biloxi for the first time recently stared in silence at collapsed houses leaning into the streets, caved-in roofs, piles of debris, a blue Toyota draped over a fence.
A sour smell of decay and rot clung to the nostrils.
"My God," said one.
Jerry and Glenda Williams are two of the lucky residents having their home rebuilt. They just happened to encounter Tucker as he walked by shortly after his arrival, finding out who needed help.
Now, while a team installs drywall in their house, they live in a FEMA trailer behind it.
Jerry, 48, a shipyard worker who grew up in East Biloxi, grills ribs and pork chops for the volunteers; Glenda, 49, fixes fried chicken and rice and beans.
The Williamses credit Tucker for sparking the community back to life. One by one, they say, residents are returning as they see the work being done.
"He's come here and give us hope," Jerry said.
On some streets, there is only silence from the husks of broken houses.
But, slowly, other portions of East Biloxi are stirring. Generators roar, saws whine and teenagers drive by, music thudding from speakers.
On some streets, children play in yards again, and neighbors embrace and share stories of loss and survival, thanking God for what is left and those who are bringing it back.
