The Annual Letters (1924-26) describe the cataclysmic event of August 25 as follows:

“…the 25^th of August about two in the afternoon a violent hurricane was unleashed throughout Louisiana. Warned a few hours earlier, we had taken all the necessary precautions, but the wind, accompanied by torrential rain, grew stronger and stronger by the hour. Our retreatants took refuge in their dormitory. We had the idea that two religious should stay up in turn to warn of danger, [but the rest should go to bed.] On entering our rooms we found them inundated. Towards ten o’clock, the hurricane winds reached 100 miles an hour. Our big house seemed to be shaking on its foundations; the chimneys fell destroying the roof, the tiles of which flew off like so many scraps of paper. Water flowed in through all the holes. One of the columns in the dormitory collapsed; the ladies, who were trying to mop up the water, moved to the parlors that were still sheltered and began to pray aloud. The chapel was full of water; a broken stained glass window was letting in both wind and water. About two o’clock in the morning the winds began to die down, but what a spectacle met our eyes at dawn: our superb pecan and walnut trees were lying on the lawn like stricken giants; the garden was torn up and covered with roof tiles; sheets of metal from the roof were all over the ground. That was what had become of the beauty of St. Michael’s! It was the third day of the retreat; the priest encouraged the ladies to thank God that their lives had been spared…then he advised them to go home, advice that they did not need as they were all anxious about their families, and so the retreat closed. Reverend Mother Vicar [Reid], having heard about the disaster, arrived two days later; she took us by surprise, as we had no telephone service. Upon seeing the damage, she realized that repairs could not be made before the opening of school, so she decided that the boarding school would not reopen that semester. She advised parents to send their daughters to Grand Coteau or the Rosary; a good number of the class mistresses were sent to those two schools. A small community stayed to take care of the two free schools, one for white children [58 students] and one for children of color [65 students]. We remain confident in the Heart of Jesus and in the decisions of our First Mother.”

There were forty-two religious in the community at the time; the boarders would have numbered fifty-three. The small group that remained carried on throughout the academic year 1926-27 teaching in the day schools and supervising repairs. The house journal expresses their joy on December 12, the day the chapel was ready for use again. The boarding school did not reopen for the second semester.

On April 17, Easter Sunday the convent annalist records the effects of a second hurricane. “From Good Friday on the river began to take on frightening proportions. The Mississippi and its tributaries overflowed causing disastrous flooding. Families were ruined; others perished trying to escape the floods. The President of the United States, Mr. Coolidge, sent his secretary [sic] Mr. Hoover to visit the flooded areas and provide for the needs of those stricken. In order to save New Orleans, the governor of Louisiana, Mr. Simpson, had a trench opened at Poydras, fourteen miles from the city, to drain the water. Of necessity the State paid an indemnity to the families whose lands were sacrificed. There were miracles of charity and devotedness; the Red Cross was especially distinguished for its service. Planes passed over frequently surveying the scene and bringing aid.” This time St. Michael’s does not appear to have suffered, the space given to the event in the journal indicates its significance.

Finally, from the journal entry on June 21 we learn what “the First Mother” decided: “Reverend Mother announced that our dear house would not be closed but would become the center of the Vicariate of Mexico. Our mothers from San Antonio [where the Mexican nuns had taken refuge from persecution] with their boarding school will take possession of the house. We rejoice that our house will continue to be dedicated to a work of the Society, but we feel the sacrifice of leaving this place that is so dear to us.” On August 2 we read: “An unforgettable day! Departure of the last band of the former community.” The joyful note in this account is that “the dear house” received new life as a shelter for the Mexican exiles until the end of 1931.