it is hard to believe that almost a year has passed since that fateful morning, of.June 27, 1957, when black death roared out of the Gulf of Mexico and laid waste Louisiana's upper Gulf oast.
Men gave the death a name— Hurricane Audrey. And Cameron —gutted, flooded, devastated Cam-eron—was its symbol.
But time, and the very business of living, of rearing children, of earning a salary, tend to file the past in the recesses of men's memories. Yesterday's tragedies gradually fade when confronted with the day-to-day crises of paying the rent, or fixing dinner, or getting the youngsters to bed.
Thus, the awful tragedy of 500 dead or missing has been somewhat softened by time. And concern over the thousands of homeless lessened with each new house that rose over the ruins and the mud.
Still, there are many who remember Cameron.
And there are those who can never forget. ...
One such is Dr. Cecil Clark. the nation's "Most Outstanding Family Physician55 for 1957. He lived —and worked — through Hurricane Audrey and was ruined by it. His hospital and home were destroyed. He cared for the injured and diseased during the hellish days and nights that followed the calamity while fighting through a special nightmare —not knowing whether his wife and five children were among the living or the dead.
And there are others who can't forget-
Among these are the Red Cross, the Salvation Army and a host of religious organizations which so valiantly aided the rehabilitation of the stricken town.
One of these organizations, B'nai B'rith, is honoring Dr. Clark this week end at a seven-state convention here by presenting him its first "Humanitarian Award," Its members, after the tragedy of
Cameron, raised more than $11,000 to rebuild medical clinics there, although not one member of their faith lived in the town.
A year later, they still remember Dr. Clark.
They remember that during the horror of the hurricane, while three of the doctor's five children were lost to the roaring wind and the tidal wave, Dr. Clark was delivering three babies by candlelight in the crowded Cameron courthouse.
The inscription on the medal being presented to Dr. Clark tells the story —the story of Cameron, of death, of life, of a doctor's great devotion to his duty:
"Be Thou A Blessing To Mankind ;• , . Cecil Clark, M. D, June 8, 1958." PHOTO: DR. CECIL CLARK, 34, the unassuming hero of Cameron. His family moved there from Natchttoches, where he was born, when he was four. In World War II he was a Medical Corps sergeant, then went to Northwestern State College and LSU Medical School. Part of his interneship was served at Hotel Dieu. He opened his clinic in Cameron in 1952.
