As my cameraman and I drove along the Gulf Coast this week, it was as if we were connecting the dots of Hurricane Katrina, from one town, and one person, to the next. Our assignment was to revisit some of the people we met in the days and weeks after the hurricane to see how they are doing now.

There was the woman who lost her home in Waveland, Mississippi, but now celebrates the birth of her first grandchild; a psychiatrist who after Katrina walked the streets of New Orleans armed with a gun, but now drives those same streets counseling police, EMS, and other first responders; a retired merchant marine who videotaped the storm as it invaded his home, but now repairs it all himself; and a volunteer who tirelessly served hot meals to workers, and now is back at work as a juvenile probation officer. These are only a few of the many people we met.

Despite the different stories, two themes regularly emerged in our conversations. The first is one of alarm -- alarm that the killer storm evolved so rapidly into a depraved situation due to the poorly organized response, and concern that the next disaster might follow the same course. The second is one of gratitude -- gratitude toward the people who came from every corner of the country to help rescue, relieve, and rebuild the Gulf Coast.