Warren Peper walked Interstate 91 along the Gulf Coast, stepping his way through the rubble: a rain-soaked shoe, a mutilated street sign, a tree ripped from earth lying across an intersection, a child’s brown-and-white teddy bear, muddy and flattened to the street curb, a washing machine, sucked from a kitchen lying atop fragments of what was once someone’s home: the residuum of Hurricane Katrina’s deed.
