I wrote this back in October, 2005 at another site I visit. I decide to include it here for the anniversary of Katrina. There were so many thoughts, experiences and fears that even by October my mind had blanked out. I wish I had kept a journal.
My update is at the bottom.
I have photos that went in the story, but I don't know how to post them online, so I'm sorry you won't get the full effect.
Also, please see the dKos Katrina Blog: http://www.dkosopedia.com/wiki/Hurricane_Katrina_blog_project
The Katrina Experience
We didn't flood, and didn't even have a hole in the roof. We had some water damage due to the rain coming in sideways under the tin roof, but that's easily fixed.
We've removed approximately 1000 cu yds of debris so far - lots of trees down. To picture that, it was a pile about 8' high, 8' wide and 400' long. And there's another pile that big on the side to have removed. I guess we lost about 25-30 trees (keep in mind I live on a small farm)
We lost a lot in fences.... The power company bulldozed the entire front of the property. So the horses are living at a boarding barn until we can get the fences rebuilt.
We caught the western edge of the eye wall. It was very spooky. For hours (seriously, we thought it was bad at 8 am and didn't see the worst until 1 pm) the wind screamed out of the north. Then it became blustery all over, and then it came again out of the west. Honestly, I don't remember a lot of what happened during that time. I guess it was scarier than I thought.
But what was worse was after the storm. As bad as we thought it was within out property, there was nothing to prepare us for the feeling we had when we walked out to the highway (I live on a very busy 2 lane highway). Our neighbors were out there too and we were in shock. All you could see were downed trees and power lines. And not just here and there, there were trees every few FEET - big trees. Our highway takes 20 minutes to get from town to the next small town - about 20 miles. I've never felt so isolated in my entire life. It was really weird.
The other truly weird thing was the power lines. We were terrified to touch them because we've always been taught not to, but we had no choice. As it turns out, almost EVERY power line in the entire parish (county) was down. They basically rewired the entire area for power, phone and cable.
So Tuesday Michael and I figured out what we needed to do first. His parents and brothers were here and they unfortunately added to the stress so we let them be. We started cutting the tree off the fence to the dog's yard - we had to get their fencing up so they could get outside and stay safe. Then we put up some temporary fences for the horses. It was so hot they couldn't stay in the barn without fans (typical for us in the summer). So we got them out.
Tuesday was also when we got the news about the levees in N.O. from the radio (I could write another essay on the radio station and how it kept operating - truly amazing.) But we really couldn't absorb what they were saying, it just didn't compute through our own shock.
Then people started coming out to the highway with chainsaws and tractors, so Michael joined them with the chainsaw while I tried to help clear the dirt road for the neighbor to get out. They have an older father on an O2 generator and w/o power they were in trouble.
Something I want to highlight here - it was the citizens - us and our neighbors - who cleared the highway, not the government. If you think they're going to save you, you're going to wait. Everyone who had a saw, tractor, large truck, bobcat or other equipment was out there.
As soon as a single lane was clear on Hwy 21, Michael's relatives left. We thought they were foolish as there were clear orders to stay put and they lived on lower ground than us, but they went. And honestly, it was better that way. They hadn't brought any water with them and they hadn't brought enough of their medications. They only had one change of clothing... A lot of people figured it would be over with and they'd go home.
So we kept working. We didn't have a generator. That was our downfall. We worked like dogs and it was hot. Michael kept getting overheated and I was panicked about getting water to the horses who were out in the heat. The neighbors were fabulous - we all helped each other and traded whatever we had. We had stocked up on fuel thank goodness because without it, no generators and no water...
Wednesday night we got our first real showers (cold) at the neighbors. We had showered before the storm on Saturday night... Man was that the best shower!
We realized that we couldn't do it without a generator on site, so either Tues or Weds (can't recall but I'm thinking Weds) night Michael and I packed up the dogs and a cooler and headed to Jackson, MS to find a generator. We were shocked. That was a 2.5 hour drive and they had no power and no generators anywhere and the gas lines were long. We could hardly believe it. So we turned around and came home that night. It was really long to say the least and we were feeling panicked.
One thing we had done though was get through on cell phone at one spot in the road. I called a few people to tell them we were okay, and called a few others to make emergency plans for the horses. Let me tell you, I have never clung to a phone like that in my entire life. Almost every cell tower had lost electricity and didn't have a backup generator.
Thursday Michael became really sick from the heat. We had filled containers with water and were sponge bathing, but he could never get cooled off. And at night it was miserable - you couldn't sleep for the heat and the mosquitoes. So on Friday we stuck the horses in the trailer, dogs in the truck and headed out at 3 am. My neighbors took care of the chickens and cats for us. We stopped in Baton Rouge and dropped off the horses at my friend's farm, and then we headed to Houston. We were really in shock and it was good to see that the rest of the world was normal - no searching for gasoline or water, food in stores, stores that were OPEN for that matter... It was like a revelation.
We stayed with friends in Houston. We used to live there so it was a good break for us and a chance to be around people who we really care about. There was so much hospitality and kindness there - restaurants with 1/2 price meals for evacuees, low movie prices... It was overwhelming. I cried a lot just at the kindness of it all.
Then we started seeing pictures of NO. We lived in the city 7 years, and it's Michael's childhood home. It was both amazing and devastating to see. The images we'd heard about on the radio were all of a sudden in our faces and they were truly horrible. The photos of people stranded on their roofs were sickening and frightening.
We were going to stay a week in Houston to recover, but we couldn't stay away from home. We ordered generators (couldn't find any in Houston either) and headed home. One of Michael's employees had an extra house in Baton Rouge and they had moved my work office there too, so we came home, grabbed the cats, chickens, clothes and stuff and headed back to BR to wait for our generator to come in. Of course by that time Home Despot was getting them in regularly, you just had to camp out to get one.
Our neighbor's house was destroyed by trees and he had a major workshop - he's a specialty welder. So we let him and his family move into our house while we lived in BR. It was a great situation because they needed a place and we didn't want the house to be empty.
I'd like to add something here because it's very important. I have never, ever in my life believed in carrying a gun or keeping one in the house. My neighbor probably had 6 with him, and I was really glad. But this made me feel very depressed and angry - sad that I could ever feel this way and angry that my feelings were so affected by fear. I wanted a shotgun in my house - whether it was me or someone else living there. I'm ashamed by that but its how I feel.
So we lived in BR for two plus weeks and came home on weekends to work on the place. We both have our jobs, so it was exhausting, but we could see a little progress every weekend.
Our neighbors found a place up the highway where the electric had been restored. They moved up there so our house was empty. I hated it, but work was too crazy for us to come home at night and deal with generators and the like, and the traffic has become unbelievable. It still is. But the next week we had power back. It had taken only three weeks for power to come back - compared to the 5-7 weeks we were told. I was thrilled and we moved home ASAP. Unfortunately my wonderful older cat Claude disappeared while we were in BR. It was very sad to come home without him. We searched and put up fliers but it didn't help. He had picked us when we lived in NO the year we got married. He was 18 pounds of wonderful kitty. I was so numb at that point that I couldn't even cry.
Once home, I washed every single thing in the house. Everything was filled with bugs, grime, dust and funk. Everything smelled weird... We moved the horses from BR to Folsom so they are close until I can get a fence put up.
Life is starting to take on a pattern again, though it's filled with frustration. The roads are clogged with debris trucks, power trucks, displaced people who are living up here, contractors, fema, insurance adjusters.... It's truly a cluster f* The dirt road along our house has become a major roadway for debris trucks going to dump at the old dirt pit, and they're burning the waste so we have ashes falling around our house and sore throats. I'm a bit at the end of my rope with it.
Work is surreal. I work for the state environmental agency and epa is down here trying to avoid the mistakes of 9/11 by going overboard in the other direction... The one thing that they are doing that is truly wonderful is having household hazardous waste (paint, pesticides, etc) drop off points for people cleaning out their lives. They have also organized a HUGE white goods recycling program. They take refrigerators and AC units, remove the refrigerant (Freon, etc) and recycle the metals.
At first I did organizing work - lists of facilities we needed to visit and assess. Then I got to go into the field and work citizen complaints. Some were really valid, others not so. One day I went into St. Bernard parish to see a chemical drum that had washed up into this woman's house. When I got into the parish I was so sad and overwhelmed by the devastation. It was like a ghost town. No one can live there. I cried all the way up St. Claude Ave through the lower 9th ward. Then I made a run through my old neighborhood, Lakeview. The water had been almost to the top of the front door.
Our regional office in NO was destroyed and they are rebuilding. Fortunately for me, we have found a temporary office site only 30 minutes away from home!
I haven't really written any of this down before. There are so many details and emotions and I'm not a very talented writer - I just can't get them all down on paper.
This is our story. Unlike a lot of other people's it's pretty mild. We are so very fortunate - we have a house. A lot of friends from work have lost everything they owned. There is a lot of anger and frustration, sadness and (thank God) humor. We keep laughing our asses off, otherwise we sink. I've certainly had pity parties for myself, but then we just get back to work...
The Anniversary of Katrina
So much has happened since October. Later in the month, a couple drove up to our house to ask who the builder was. They drove by and fell in love with the house and wanted to build one just like it. We didn't know who the builder was, but we had the same reaction when we saw the house. Here it is pre-K
We invited them in and a month later they called us back to ask if we'd sell the house, so we did. No for sale sign, no fuss, no muss. We were able to find a place to rent because we know a lot of folks around here and we were really lucky as rentals are very rare.
Since then we've kept up our Katrina traditions of getting together with friends and neighbors more often. Of stopping in to visit and of having dinner parties. The conversation is still on Katrina; it never left.
There is still so much work to be done in our neck of the woods. Most of the debris trucks are gone, but the woods are now losing trees to an Eps beetle infestation. Some forests have been cleared, but many look just the same. Businesses are mostly back to normal, but usually with reduced hours. The two things you can count on to be open are bars and coffee houses.
It's the same in New Orleans, just multiply the devastation by an exponential amount. Rebuilding is spotty and only in certain areas. Friends are having house re-warming parties, but their new roofs leak and they aren't at all confident of the levees.
After we sold the farm, Michael started looking for a new job opportunity and just last week all fell into place. We are moving to Russ Feingold-landia!!! Otherwise known as southern Wisconsin at the end of August.
For years we have talked about the things we have to do before we leave New Orleans. Mostly involving eating at favorite restaurants and driving by houses we love to look at. Unfortunately many of those places are not yet rebuilt, such as Mandina's on Canal Street. I can't believe I'm leaving the city without going there one more time. And Commander's Palace - I actually never got to eat there once. We did go to eat at Irene's the other evening and it was fantastic. That is one of many places we will truly miss.
But we're looking forward to the land of cheese. At least there are no hurricanes and they tell me there's a warning siren for tornadoes.