Mucho Gracias and Answered Questions

O.k. First of all, I just want to say thanks to all of you who have stuck with me through the blogging of my Katrina experience. I know it was tedious at times and sometimes it was overwhelming, but I’m glad I got it out.

Thanks, too, to all who commented and linked. I do appreciate it and believe me, I read EVERY comment!

In the comments section, several of you asked some questions and made some observations that I’d like to acknowledge.

After this post, it will officially serve as the closing of this chapter in my life.

Thanks again.

(click on the person's name below to get directed to their blog)

Sassy-I’m so sorry to hear of your cousin’s townhome. I worked with a few people who had water to their ceilings and truly did lose EVERYTHING. That broke my heart. To imagine the loss of not only material possessions but your memories as well. I’ve seen pics like that (the black line of mold along the walls, the tossed appliances, etc…) and you’re right, the pictures don’t do it justice. And, technically, I’m not a Jeff girl. I lived in Orleans, but right past the Jeff line. I know peeps in the Ridge, too! Light of my life actually didn’t know any different when it came to starting kindergarten in a different school. Since she had only been to daycare (which was a combo pre-school, too), she was going to attend a new school that fall anyway. It just so happened that it was in MS instead of LA. Now, her first grade year, that was a different story. That was harder on her and on me since we were back in LA (and knowing that we were going to move the next year…again!) and having to go to a new school (the school she was originally to attend before Katrina) with new people. She LOVED her school in Flowood and missed it terribly.

Jenboglass-I’m glad to hear that at least one candidate mentioned Katrina. Hopefully, they’ll still have NOLA in mind when whoever comes to office. They could still use the assistance down there. Thanks for all your thoughts during this saga. And it was a little like Christmas running all through the house…all excited to see our things again and to see the non-damage. Yeah, we loved Freddy. He actually lived about another 6 months before finally passing away. I tell you though, it was a hardship for him, too. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that animals don’t feel things. Before the storm, he was a placid little fellow but after….he was mean. I mean, really mean. He would attack the inside of the bowl and would swim furiously if you tapped on the glass. I love how you dumped the Vamps novels for my story. That’s high praise indeed!

Rhea-Thanks for all your support during the story. Yeah, hearing about the levees breaking just about broke me down. I was already stressed enough as it was with the not being able to react and having to stay “on” all the time. Yeah, Anderson Cooper is gay. Not confirmed, mind you, but it’s pretty much a given. Remind me to tell you my story about seeing him. Did your family make it out OK with Gustav? I tell you, it looked like a third world country after the storm hit. It was eerie and smelly and…heartbreaking. It was hard to believe that this was IN a US city. Yeah, the insurance covered all the damages. The few things that weren’t covered, we were able to replace with some excess insurance money (that was legitimately owed).

Kat-Do you ever hear any flak about having the same name? Unfortunately, that storm has ruined that name for me. I always thought it was such a romantic, mysterious name, but not any more. Anytime I hear it, I automatically think people are talking about the storm. That makes me sad. I’m so glad to hear about your church sending the youth to Biloxi. They really needed the help over there. Dealing with Gustav was pretty rough. The same nasty butterfly feelings came back. I had problems in the bathroom area, if you know what I mean. I wasn’t even going through the storm, personally, but it was a combination of PTSD and worrying for my friends and family still in NOLA. Thanks for the good thoughts. Light of my life dealt with seeing things first hand pretty well. She decided to skip out on seeing the house the first day, but when she finally decided to go, she was o.k. When she saw that all her stuff, for the most part, was o.k. I think the worry she was holding on to finally let go. I did take her on a tour of the most devastated parts of the city so she could see, first hand, the devastating effects of a hurricane. I think that was the first time I saw any empathy from her. Being 5 years old, that was a big deal. The flood lines do linger. You can still see them on some people’s houses to this day. The fridge, by far, was the worst part. At least, physically. Emotionally, it was seeing all the devastation all around the city. We moved away from the city in August of 2007 and my mom followed the next month after she sold the house (to the neighbors that helped us out during the storm…coincidentally enough!).

Insane Mama-I think any kind of natural disaster is bad. I’m sorry that you have to deal with earthquakes. As much as I hate hurricanes, at least they give us some time to get the heck out of dodge before the devastation arrives. With earthquakes and tornadoes, you really don’t have much of a chance.

Tamie-Thanks for stopping by and reading! I don’t know if I 100% blame the mayor for everything that happened after. I do feel he’s to blame for lots of the fumbling and the mistakes that occurred afterwards, but I think it’s a combination of the government and the citizens. I strongly feel that the citizens should have heeded the warnings far earlier than they did (I’m talking about the ones that evacuated real late or didn’t evacuate at all). To me, it’s logical. You live on and/or near the water, a hurricane’s coming, you make the preparations to either evacuate or ride it out. None of this counting on the government to help you out of the circumstances that you created. I’m specifically referring to those citizens that you saw all over the news wearing Tommy Hilfiger clothes, with the 2 inch manicured nails and all the gold jewelry. Those people obviously had some sort of means to get out of dodge and chose not to. However, since you can’t get people to think logically 100% of the time and there are human lives at stake, I do think the government should have done a better job of taking care of those that did stay behind and were stuck in the city. That’s all I’m gonna say about that.

Lime-Thanks for stopping by! I think that’s awesome that your husband and daughter helped out the 9th ward. I love hearing about all the support from those outside of the state. It warms my heart and is much appreciated. And, yes, it’s still shocking to see how much devastation is still around.

Jennifer and Sandi-Ahhh…another hurricane survivor. I remember Andrew. I was in school at the time, but my mom (working in the insurance industry) had to go down there to work the storm. She was changed by the experience.

Minivan Mom- (If you haven’t given to her cause yet, please click on the link above the current post…you still have time to give). Tracey, for those of you who don’t know her, is one of the Yahoo group members that I mentioned in my last Katrina post. She (and the rest of the ladies) went out of their way to make sure that my family and myself were safe and sound and fully entertained. I am forever grateful to them for all of their support. This goes for Mary and Karen as well (I mention them specifically since they commented).

Ron-Thanks for stopping by! Yeah, I went through one hurricane that affected Orlando directly, but since Disney didn’t let us off of work the day it passed through, it couldn’t have been too bad. I don’t really remember it too well.

Afro-You’re welcome for remembering the brave, wonderful, stoic people of Mississippi during this time. I truly believe that these people were some of the real heroes during all of this. In my own personal opinion, they are the quiet survivors of this devastating storm and should be recognized as such. Like I mentioned to Kat above, the emotions from Katrina reared their ugly head again during Gustav. I didn’t rest until I had all my peeps accounted for. So cool to hear that your boys were born in Flowood. It was such a lovely city to while away the year til the house was repaired. I really do think that it was best that I offered light of my life the chance to see the devastation first hand but I was absolutely 100% o.k. with her decision to back out at the last minute. There were times when I didn’t want to go either.

Heather-I think that was one of the worst parts, as well. The “not being able to communicate” aspect of it was killing me. Thanks for all your support.

MAW-Yep, the not being able to react about did me in. I did manage to sneak off on long walks and cry and yell and shake and bitch and moan. So, I did eventually get some release. But, never at the exact moment I needed it. Don’t you love how karma works? I’m referring to your landlord/plumbing story in the comments. Served him right! I have not seen Déjà Vu….yet. I may, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to stomach it.

Maggie, Dammit-Thanks for stopping by and thanks for the support. I also want to commend you on your beautiful post and the support that you and Lance give to the city of New Orleans.

Trooper-Ahhhh……my pillar of support. Not only has he read faithfully, but he’s linked to me and sent me a private e-mail…and no, all you ladies out there can’t have his e-mail address OR know his real name like I do! Nanny, nanny, boo, boo. In terms of your questions and observations, I don’t really know what was worse. The not knowing anything make me nervous as all get out but I felt so helpless knowing that even if I knew anything, I couldn’t do anything about it. Both gnawed at me day and night. I debated long and hard over whether or not to take light of my life to see the house, but in the end, I felt it was a more of a disservice to her NOT to take her. Or at least, not to give her the option of going. The drive into town felt like a Twilight Zone episode. The stillness and quietness was eerie. I kept expecting to see aliens or Godzilla stamp his foot down right in front of our car as we were driving. And, yes, it was therapeutic to write all this down. I didn’t realize how much I needed to do so until I did it. It was so hard to talk to people after the storm. I couldn’t talk to my aunt about it because I felt guilty that she suffered so much worse than we did and I couldn’t really talk to someone who had not been through it because they didn’t really understand. Through discussing it with a few people and finally getting this down on “paper”, it’s truly helped enormously. I never thought of blogging as therapeutic, but, I guess, in this case, it is. And I’m grateful.

Lisa-Thanks for stopping by and reading…and yeah, I’m pretty sure Anderson is gay. You’re right, he is easy on the eyes. Sigh…..

Captain Dumbass-That was the most bizarre story I’ve heard (about the fire in the town your mom lived in). Government is so stupid some times. Glad to know no one lost their homes. Thanks for your reading and support. I’m glad I could drive home the story to those who just watched it on TV and read in on-line.

Melissa B-Thanks for stopping by and reading! Thankfully Gustav passed them by this time. I am NOT the mammadawg that created that award. That’s actually Mamma Dawg and if you click on her name, you can get directed to her.

Uberburber-Thanks for stopping by and reading. Yeah, I’m thinking of trying to get tragiversary into the dictionary. I think it’s fitting.

Robin-Thanks for stopping by and supporting and reading. I’m just so glad to hear that your dad’s doing better.

Lula-I can’t believe I’m the only firsthand account that you’ve ever read! I thought for sure you might have known someone that was affected. Thanks for the support. I loved that pic of Mike peeking through the pillows. He got in there all by himself. To this day, I still don’t know how he did it.

Mekhismom-Thanks for stopping by and reading. It really has been a wonderful outlet to get all this out.

Jen-Thanks for reading.

Scargosun-You know, life is too short to be miserable all the time. I never knew if I was a glass half empty or a glass half full person until after Katrina. I’m happy to report that I’m a glass half full person.

LiteralDan-Thanks for your support.

Jen721-Awww…thanks for stopping by and reading. I’m glad to know that I opened some peoples eyes to the utter devastation that these storms can cause. It truly is a sight to behold.

Anymommy-Thanks for stopping by and reading. I appreciate the kind words and the support.

Greedygrace-Thanks for reading and supporting. I appreciate it.

John Deere Mom-Thanks for stopping by. I’m glad I could make it real for others.

For those interested, my friends that stayed with me during Gustav went home on Wednesday and they appear to have minimal to no damage. It looks like Ike may bypass them as well.

Fingers crossed.

Later,

Happy Third Birthday, Katrina! Part 7

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6

This is the last part. It's sort of a tie-up post, if you will.

The next year is mostly about living in Flowood, keeping sane and dealing with insurance issues.

We did have insurance that paid for everything. So, we were lucky in that regard.

We found an apartment in Flowood, MS and I worked at our local office there. Light of my life started kindergarten in late September and pulled off straight A's the whole year.

She attended counseling once a week as did the rest of the Katrina evacuees that put down temporary roots in Flowood. I think we were one of the only families that stayed the whole year. Most headed back as soon as they could, but since we had no where else to live, we stayed. Plus, I wasn't uprooting her during all this heartache. It would have been too much and too confusing.

We met lots and lots of lovely people while evacuated. Everyone welcomed us with open arms, open hearts and open wallets. We were given lots of toys and a fake Christmas tree by the secretary of the school she attended.

My girls over at my Yahoo groups came through the most of all. They were what kept me sane throughout most of this.

They might not know it and I'm not sure how many I thanked, but they were lifesavers and caregivers and humanitarians all rolled into a great group of women. They sent Target gift cards, toys, clothes, books, games, etc....for light of my life and myself.

We received money from the Red Cross to help us get on our feet.

We received some money from FEMA.

We received items to help us set up the apartment by some ladies that lived where we first evacuated to (where we live now) in addition to money and other goodies.

As heartbreaking as all this was, as terrible as the whole situation was...there were some rainbows in the end.

My house got re-done. I finally got to paint the kitchen and bathroom and my bedroom.

We got new appliances.

We fell in love with our neighbors. I always LIKED my neighbors, J & R and their son W, but after the storm, we utterly fell in LOVE with them. They were always there for us and bent over backwards to help us IN addition to dealing with their own mess. R got me some extra jobs to help with the cash flow situation (due to increased insurance, higher gas costs, higher energy bills, etc....). We connected and became much closer friends. To this day, I still count her as one of my best friends.

Light of my life had an EXTRAORDINARY kindergarten year that, to this day, she still talks about.

We discovered the wonderful city of Flowood and all its citizens.

We re-discovered our faith in humanity.

We re-discovered our adopted city of New Orleans as it struggled to recover. We started going places and doing things that we didn't do before Katrina hit.

We made new friends.

To end this post, I'm gonna provide some links to pictures of the damages and of our life in Flowood. Please forgive the horrible quality of the pictures. They were first taken with a throw-away camera and then I photographed the photographs so I could post 'em. They're blurry and horribly shot, but these were mostly taken for insurance purposes and didn't have to be "pretty".

A picture of light of my life 3 days before Katrina hit.

A picture of the temporary office we set up in my uncle's house so I could continue to earn a paycheck.

A shoe.

The park near our house.

National Guardsmen.

First shot of our house.

Barred door and the white cat.

Laundry room exterior.

Laundry room interior.

Washer and dryer.

Sink.

Junk we pulled out.

Fridge interior...warning...gross.

Floor under fridge.

Fridge on street.

Guest bedroom walls at my mom's house.

Vase that caught the water.

Walls in my mom's living room.

My aunt's driveway.

My aunt's house.

Random house.

Squashed house.

Neighborhood street near levee break.

Yacht.

Big pile o'crap.

Lighthouse.

The car packed on the way to the apartment in Flowood.

Light of my life in the hotel room before her first day of Kindergarten.

The apartment with all it's "high end furniture" (insert sarcasm here).

Thank you for reading my story.

Later,

Happy Third Birthday, Katrina! Part 6

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

As we went room by room in my house, we did notice some damage. Most of the damage appeared to be water streaks coming from the ceiling and some mold spots on the floor. We concluded that although the water did not breach the house, the standing water stayed long enough to cause moisture to seep through the cracks in the floorboards. We didn’t have sub-flooring, so it was my 80 year old wooden floors, 6 inches of air and nasty, stinky flood waters. It caused spots of mold to grow on the flooring throughout the house.

We were instructed by the oh, so great and knowledgeable TV Gods that you were to clean out your refrigerators and then tape them securely before tossing them on the street for disposal.

I kept telling my mother to hell with it. Let’s just tape up the damn thing and toss it to the street. No one will know or care until it’s too late.

But, nope, my mother wanted to be a good law abiding citizen.

I told her under no circumstances could I do this. I can stomach almost anything but the stench of rotten food. Turns my stomach like nothing else can.

However, I had to put on my big girl panties and hold the trash bag while she literally swept everything that was in the fridge and freezer into the bag below.

***WARNING***WARNING***WARNING***WARNING***

This is gonna get graphic. Skip if you’re eating.

First of all, the stench was not as bad as I had thought it was going to be. I can only assume that after something has rotted to the degree that this rotted, that the smell eventually dissipates.

BUT…..the first time a maggot crawled across my gloved hand…I screamed like the little bitch I am and almost barfed right there amongst the ruins of my fridge.

Not that you would have been able to differentiate between it and what we cleaned out. It would have all looked the same.

I had to leave repeatedly just to get a breath of fresh air. I thought I was going to pass out.

I did learn a bunch of new things on this trip.

For instance…I learned that hamburger meat CAN liquefy. For real. And that just because it’s in a jar, doesn’t mean that it can’t grow legs and hair and practically walk out of the fridge by itself.

And that Tupperware, while sturdy and dependable, can not resist the charms of maggots and flies and liquid ooze.

After that lovely chore was done, we then taped the hell out of that fridge and my mom and I, BY OURSELVES, moved that fridge out of the kitchen and tossed it ass over tea kettle off the front porch to the street below.

I am woman, hear me roar! ROAR!!!!!!!!!!

The next step was to assess the damages to my mom’s place.

In three words…it was worse.

Despite not having a gaping hole in the roof, we lost about 75% of the shingles from the roof which allowed water to simply pour right in to the attic and then down to her ceilings in to her rooms.

The funny thing was, it all gravitated towards the light fixtures and ceiling fan openings in the ceilings. Anything that was directly below the fixtures got saturated.

This included the mattresses in both bedrooms, a flower arrangement on the dining room table (because it was right below the light, it saved her birds eye maple dining room pub table from ruin), a coffee table in the living room and part of the flooring in the kitchen.

To skip ahead to the damages, it was over $80000 worth of damage. Seven out of eleven walls had to be replaced, every ceiling had to be replaced, every room had to be repainted, the floors had to be replaced (as well as the ones in my house), contents had to be replaced, we needed a new roof, new gutters, etc, etc, etc…….

After we assessed the damages, I went and found a Ziploc bag, a fresh bottle of water from the car and managed to get Freddy into the bag with fresh water. I gathered up all of light of my life’s requests and we headed back over to K’s house for the night.

To be continued…

Later,

Happy Third Birthday, Katrina! Part 5

Part 1 Part 3

Part 2 Part 4

We arrived at my friend K’s house. They lived in a suburb outside of New Orleans. We got in town too late to go to the house to do our look and leave. Part of me was glad that I had to wait til the next day but a bigger part of me was antsy to get in there and….well, SEE.

After a restless, sleepless night, we got up the next morning.

I asked light of my life if she still wanted to go to the house with us and, bless her heart, she decided she didn’t want to go. After seeing all the piles and piles of debris in the towns we drove through, she got scared and didn’t want to go.

Her being 5 years old and all, I didn’t push it. I praised her for being brave enough to consider it in the first place and I told her I would call as soon as we got to the house to let her know what it looked like.

When we hit the Jefferson Parish/Orleans Parish line, I whipped out my video camera as I knew that it would only be a few minutes before we got to the house.

The streets were bare. We were the only car for MILES. The streetlights were out, there were no cars in the parking lots…not a single human being around.

We passed a National Guard checkpoint about half a mile from our house. A lone Guardsman sat under a flimsy tent and just half-heartedly waved us on. At this point, we were approaching the water treatment plant.

That’s when we started seeing the flood lines.

Those dirty, slimy, stinky, awful, heartbreaking flood lines.

You could see where there was an incline in the roads because the lines started out about 6 inches or so above the ground. They steadily rose the further into town you got. When we got to the house that was on the corner where we turned to get to our house, we could see the line. It was taller than light of my life.

Think about that. It was taller than my child. If she was standing on the ground, the water was OVER HER HEAD!!!

By this time, I can’t see straight anymore. My eyes were so filled with tears, my stomach was in knots, I felt like I had to barf.

I kept the camera on as we turned down my street. The grass in the park was dead from over saturation of water.

So many trees were missing.

There were abandoned cars that either had flood lines on them or no flood lines at all. It took me forever to realize that that meant that the water was OVER THE TOP OF THE CARS at some point.

We get to the cross street about 2 houses from my house. I’m straining to see if we can see the flood lines at our house and how high they might be.

Before I could see anything, we saw our neighbors house on the corner. The pile of Sheetrock and debris and appliances broke my heart. The doors were opened and you could see the gutted interior. He is a state trooper, so he was able to get back to his house before anyone else and could start working on it right away. My heart ached for their loss.

We pulled up in front of our house and we could see the flood line. It was on the second to the last wooden plank. I know that our neighbor had previously come to the house and declared that the houses weren’t breached, but until I could actually see it for myself, I wasn’t convinced.

With trepidation in our hearts, we walked up the front steps to the porch. We decided to go into my half first. We figured it would have the most damage.

Before we opened the door, we pulled our regulation face masks up on our faces. We were anticipating a foul odor from the rotten food in the now defunct refrigerator. We were anticipating mold spores big enough to pluck out of the air.

We got nothing.

That’s right…nothing.

We opened the door and I almost collapsed in relief. It was obvious that water had not entered up through my floorboards and ruined everything I owned.

The house smelled musty. Like it had been shut up for years and years and years without any visitors.

I started laughing in relief. We started running around the house checking on things.

Remember back in part 1 when I mentioned light of my life’s pet fish Freddy who we had to leave behind?

I had been telling light of my life that he was dead. He had gone 30+ days without food and he was just an itty bitty beta fish.

We had already grieved for him and whispered prayers for him in the dark. I explained that when we got back to the house, if possible, we would bury his little fishy body and place a gravestone over his final resting place.

After we got in the house, my mom headed straight for light of my life’s bedroom to check on the damages there and to see what condition his little body was in for burial.

I’m in the kitchen assessing the damages when I heard my mom shout. I ran back to the bedroom and she’s screaming, “He’s alive, he’s alive!” and I’m yelling over and over “You’re shitting me, you’re shitting me!”.

Yep, that little fighter was still alive…barely.

Mom said that when she went into the room, she saw his little body at the bottom of the tank. She just knew in her heart that he was gone. She knew that when fish died, they usually floated belly up on the surface, but it had been so long, she thought that maybe the decomp gasses had already left his body and he sunk back to the bottom.

Just for shits and giggles, she tapped on the glass tank with her flashlight and lo and behold, he swam up to the surface and started swimming all round.

I about near killed him with all the food I tossed into the tank!

I called light of my life immediately and I don't think she understood at first what I was telling her but when it finally clicked, I could hear her crying on the other end. After I got her all calmed down, she started giving me instructions on what to get out of her room that she decided were things she all of a sudden couldn't live without. I complied, because, well...why not? Her fish was alive, our house wasn't ruined, life was good.

Mom and I discussed how this miracle occured and we decided that what saved him was the fact that he was in a 10 gallon tank instead of a bowl and that he had survived by eating his own feces and any algea that had grown on the rocks.

I also discovered that when they tell you that betas get their vibrant coloring from the food they eat, they aren't lying. Freddy, before the storm, was a bright vibrant deep red but by the time we saw him 30+ days later, he was a pale orange and very sickly looking.

I then left him in peace to eat his food while we went to inspect the rest of the house.

To be continued….

Later,

Happy Third Birthday, Katrina! Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

During the next several weeks, lots of little life things occurred.

I fought with my bosses over leaving Mississippi and going to Houston with the rest of my unit. I finally got them to send me a laptop and all the accoutrements so I could work from my uncle’s house until we could find housing elsewhere.

We discovered we had an office located in Flowood, MS and convinced the powers that be that it would be cheaper to rent an apartment for myself and my mom (we both worked for the same insurance company) to live in until the office in Metairie opened up again. After that, if we couldn’t come home, the insurance would pay for the apartment.

I worried about light of my life and school.

See, she was supposed to have started kindergarten the day after Katrina hit.

Can you guess what happened?

Yeah, she didn’t start school on time.

We moved to Flowood the last week of September. We had a nice little 2-bedroom apartment in a safe complex that was literally within walking distance of the office we were going to work in. We were 3 miles from light of my life’s school. Due to my Katrina circumstances, I got free after school care for light of my life. We got a $25 gift certificate from Kroger to go towards school supplies. People in the office we were working out of brought us some cold weather clothes. While we were still up at my grandmother’s, we got Red Cross assistance, which was about $800+ to use at Wal-Mart. We purchased sheets, air mattresses, cold weather clothes (all we had was summer clothing and it gets chilly in September), utensils, dishes, toiletries, toys, books, chairs, I managed to have enough left over to get a TV for the apartment. Between my mom’s money (about $600 or so) and mine, we had enough to make a dent in furnishing the apartment.

During all this time, however, we still had not gotten a chance to get back down to New Orleans to check on our house. While were busy trying to build a new temporary life in Flowood, we still had MAJOR unfinished business in New Orleans.

We still had no clue for what waited us when we got home.

We were going to go down to New Orleans the weekend before we moved to Flowood, but we were told by our esteemed (insert sarcasm here, please) mayor that certain zip codes would not be allowed back at this time due to the impending Hurricane Rita.

So, we wait…again…to get our first glimpse of home.

Finally, finally, on the first weekend in October, we got a chance to do a look and leave.

This basically meant that we got to go to our houses during daylight hours (there was a strict curfew in the city at this time), look at the damages and then leave. We were not allowed to stay for any reason.

Not that you would have wanted to, anyway.

Since we didn’t know what to expect, we got our rubber boots (for some reason, we thought to evacuate with them…go figure), tons and tons of garbage bags (remember, we had 2 refrigerators that had been sitting for over a month in tropical heat w/no electricity), flashlights, the special masks you were supposed to use to protect against inhaling mold spores, gloves, cleaning material to get any spills, my camera to record damages, etc…..

I made the decision to bring light of my life with us on this trip.

I know, I know…..horrible, horrible mommy.

But, I know my child. I know how she is. I know that if she wanted to see first hand the damages, it would be o.k.

We drove back to the city. We were going to stay with some friends of ours that lived in a surrounding city (these same friends are the ones who are with us right now due to Gustav).

We entered the outskirts of Kenner and then got into the suburbs. We hadn’t even gotten into New Orleans yet and I was already crying buckets.

The devastation was horrendous in just Kenner alone. Piles and piles and piles of debris and trash and yuck were EVERYWHERE! Baby cribs littered the streets, wet sodden clothes overflowed Hefty bags, the stench of rotted food was in the air.

It looked like a third world country.

And we hadn’t even gotten into New Orleans yet.

To be continued….

Later,

Happy Third Birthday, Katrina! Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Before we could get any more news, the power went out at my grandmother’s house.

Yeah, someone was laughing at us. I just know it.

Several phone calls later, we determined that the power was up and running in town which was about 8 miles away.

After sitting and stewing and panicking, we got our stuff together, left light of my life with my grandmother and aunt and headed to the library to use their computers.

When we get there, we find out that their system is down.

Argggghhhhh!!!!

We went home and listened to a battery operated radio and heard all sorts of atrocious things that were happening. It was chaotic and noisy and useless and misleading.

It was frustrating.

And, the whole time, I CAN’T REACT!!! I have to be “on” for my daughter.

We tried calling everyone we knew. The lines were so busy we couldn’t get through to anyone and no one could get through to us.

I didn’t know the whereabouts of my friends or co-workers or anything. I didn’t know the status of my house. I didn’t even know if I had a house to go home to. I didn’t know if all of my daughter’s pictures were ruined, or if my couch had floated off down the street or if my daughter’s brand new Barbie house that I had just built for her was ruined. I didn’t know if that snow white neighborhood cat had drowned or if any of my neighbors had stayed behind to ride it out and were now dead or barely surviving.

I didn’t know ANYTHING. And it was FRUSTRATING!

And I couldn’t react.

Later on Monday, we heard from my uncle who said he had power and cable up at his house. We headed over there and watched any cable news station we could find. We were literally sitting on the edge of his leather couch just trying not to scream or cry or throw things at the PURE LACK of information the media seemed to have.

Now, I know I can’t blame them entirely, but in this day and age where you can speak to someone in Japan and it sounds like they’re in the next room or you can download an entire movie in minutes off the internet, it seemed improbable that these people couldn’t get ANY information to the public.

At this point, really, my days started to run together.

During the next couple of days, we were able to ascertain that it seemed our little block did get about 3 feet of water but not as bad as what we were hearing what other neighborhoods were getting.

On one of those days, we heard from my aunt and discovered that their street had 9 feet of water. And their house was only 3-4 feet off the ground. In short, they lost pretty much everything.

Again, hers is not my story to tell.

We heard on the TV that there was a website you could go to and you could see ariel shots of your house or neighborhood. We wrote down the site and headed to the library. Lo and behold, they were right. We were able to actually FIND OUR HOUSE on the Internet! How cool! We could see someone’s VW bug parked on the street in front of the park right by the house. We could ACTUALLY SEE the top of the VW. We knew then that our house wasn’t under water. It did look like there was a tree down on the roof, but we couldn’t tell for certain.

However, I lived on the bottom half of the duplex. Which means, if water got into our house, everything in my house was pretty much ruined. Even if it was only a foot of water.

How did I know this? Because we had been hearing that we were not going to be allowed back in to the house until the waters receded.

Think about it. Weeks of standing water + tropical heat + no power = a big old mildew-y mess of proportions like you’ve never seen.

And I didn’t have flood insurance. My renters insurance didn’t cover flood and my mom’s homeowners insurance didn’t cover MY contents.

The next couple of days were filled with listening to my gorgeous new boyfriend (shut up, I know he’s gay, still…) Anderson Cooper and the horrifying and extremely unqualified Nancy Grace go on and on and on and on and on and on about the tragedy.

It was enough to make my ears bleed. But, like a car wreck, you couldn’t help but watch. We were watching to get a glimpse of familiar sites while others in the family were watching to just watch.

We finally got through to my incredibly wonderful neighbors. They had evacuated to a Podunk little town in LA and rode out the storm in a cabin.

All entrances to the city were blocked but my neighbor managed to sneak in and got all the way to our block. The last couple of blocks, he had to walk because it was too deep to drive the car.

He said when he got there, he could immediately see that our houses hadn’t been breached.

WHEW!!!!!!!!!

However, EVERYTHING in the sheds and in our laundry room were gone. My little Geo Storm was flooded and nasty and smelly. He lost the ‘stang he was rebuilding for his son.

Our neighbors on the corner got hit the hardest. They had a slab foundation and got 4 feet of water in their house (our street sloped downwards as you got closer to the park).

We were spared mostly because our houses were off the ground about 3 ½ feet. We missed getting water in our house by 6 inches.

Our neighbor was only able to do a look and see. He walked around both properties and verified that no windows were broken and looters had not broken in.

He said that he had never seen the city so quiet and still and empty. It broke his heart.

To be continued...

Later,

Happy Third Birthday, Katrina! Part 2

Part 1

So, we got on the road about 8 o’clock that night. The last time we evacuated (for Hurricane Ivan), it took us 12 HOURS to reach my grandmother’s house which is normally a 5 ½ HOUR drive. That was because the contra-flow was not in effect at that time. We had decided to evacuate by going over the Causeway Bridge. What normally took 30 minutes to cross took 2 hours. I was driving and I was TENSE the whole time.

Anyway, this time, it was a lot smoother. It took us about 7 hours to make the 5 ½ hour trip. This was with stopping for potty breaks and coffee breaks and to clean out the litter box from a foul…never mind. I won’t go there.

So, we arrive at my grandmother’s pretty early Sunday morning.

We had packed summertime clothes with the anticipation that we would be there for at least a week but no more than two weeks tops.

Let me back up a minute.

You know how you see neighbors in disaster movies wishing each other good luck while every one goes their separate ways before the meteor/huge tidal wave/dinosaur/aliens hit and/or attack?

Yeah, that’s what we did. For some reason, we stood on our front porch and talked to a few neighbors about what they all were going to do. Some neighbors that we had always just said “hello” to, we were exchanging telephone numbers of where we were evacuating to just in case. In case of what, we didn’t know. But, Just In Case.

Back to the story…

….when we arrived at my grandmother’s, we found out that my aunt and uncle were going to a party in Shreveport and staying the weekend there. My aunt was concerned enough to take her precious jewelry and a few other things but my asshole of an ex-uncle was absolutely CERTAIN that nothing was going to happen and was frustrated with her and everyone else in the greater N’awlins area for making such a fuss.

Despite what you heard/read/saw…people were taking this seriously.

We were relieved to hear that they would be out of harms way and after putting light of my life to bed, we stayed up for a bit longer talking.

Since nothing was predicted to happen that night or even later that day, I went on to bed.

Sunday was uneventful. Mostly just watching TV and whatnot. Trying to keep a 5 year old entertained with the few toys that we brought with us.

The longer the day dragged on, the more upset my stomach got.

Of course, having a kid, I couldn’t freak out. I couldn’t let on how scared or nervous or terrified or $%^*^& I felt. I had to hold it in.

We heard from my aunt periodically. I think at that point she might have known what was going to happen. I really can’t speak for her, though.

Sunday night arrives and it’s time to go to bed. I get light of my life in bed and watch her fall asleep.

I go back out to the living room and watch the TV. At this point, it was pretty much a forgone conclusion that we were going to get it and get it good. All we could do at this point was bend over and take it like big people.

They were giving updates pretty much every hour.

Knowing it was going to happen until very early Monday morning, I went on to bed.

I have to tell y’all something. No matter how stressful it gets, I can ALWAYS, ALWAYS fall asleep. And I did. I fell asleep cradling my daughter while horrible, horrible images floated through my head.

My mom later told me that when the winds started picking up (for at this time, we were starting to get some head winds), she opened the front door to my grandmother’s place and just watched the trees dance in the wind. She said it was beautiful.

I woke up later that day an hour or so after the storm had hit. We still had power at my grandmother’s house. We turned on the TV and tried to catch a glimpse of our city.

At this time, the levees hadn’t broken and flooded the city.

We didn’t breathe a sigh of relief, but I remember a sense of relief that we got the west side of the storm and my heart started going out to the Mississippians on the Gulf Coast who got the east and worst side of the storm.

Later that day, literally right before we lost power at my grandmother’s house (by that time, the storm had downgraded to a Category 1 or a Tropical Storm as it passed over us), we heard on the news that the levees had broken.

To be continued...

Later,

Happy Third Birthday, Katrina!

That bitch. I wish she was never born.

For those who think I’m a horrible, horrible person at this point, don’t fret.

I’m talking about Hurricane Katrina.



It was three years ago, today, that she struck with a wrath that only a woman could embody.

And that’s not an insult to women.

Quite a few of you have asked (in the past) about my Katrina story.

So, in honor of this anniversary (really, why do they call horrible tragedies, anniversaries? Why can’t they call them something else….like…trageversaries…or something), I’m gonna tell you my Katrina story.

Now, keep in mind, my immediate family (me, my daughter and my mother) got off relatively light in comparison to others.

I can’t tell you other people’s stories.

That’s for them to tell.

This is mine.

And mine alone.

A little background.

At that time, I worked for an insurance company. Ironic, huh? Anyway, I worked in the personal lines boat and yacht unit. We handled claims from all over the country, not just Louisiana.

In addition, we lived in a section of New Orleans called Uptown. It’s not as fancy as it sounds. If you think of New Orleans as a big 10 inch deep FULL to the brim bowl…our house was about 2 centimeters from the lip of the bowl.

Back in 1998, my mom moved to New Orleans from Orlando, FL. I had moved there earlier in the year and was living with a friend. My mom decided to put down roots in New Orleans and she thought it would be beneficial to both of us if she purchased a duplex. She would live in one half of the duplex and I would rent the other half from her.

This was pre-light of my life and pre-ex-husband.

This scenario worked out for both of us.

7 years, 1 kid and 1 divorce later, on the Friday before Katrina struck, we found ourselves wiping our foreheads with relief that we had dodged a big one.

Before I left work on that Friday, I had logged on to the National Hurricane Center (NHC) and saw that the prediction was that the storm was going to turn and the projected path at that time was Orange Beach/the panhandle of Florida area.

We went about our business like normal. Had a nice Friday night. Yada, yada, yada.

On Saturday morning, I got a phone call from a co-worker asking me what I was going to do.

I was stumped. I said, “What do you mean”? She told me to turn on the weather channel.

So I did. And I promptly dropped the phone.

The projected path put New Orleans right smack dab in the middle of the path.

There was still a chance that the storm would turn. We didn’t panic too bad. Yet….

My mom came downstairs from her house and we talked about our options. We had already needed to run errands, so we decided to continue on with our day with us stopping by the office at some point to check the NHC website.

We went about our errands and ran by the office. We saw that they still had it hitting New Orleans.

Now…we panicked.

We went home and both of us checked our hurricane bags (for those of you not in the know, a lot of people keep a bag packed with important essentials like insurance papers, birth certificates, marriage certificates, divorce papers, precious jewelry, etc…packed in an easy to identify bag from basically June to November) and started taking pictures off the walls and putting breakables under pillows, etc….You know, preparing for your house to be pummeled with high winds and lots of rain. I put all of light of my life’s books in garbage bags (some were from when I was a kid). I fed her fish, Freddy, tons and tons of food.

We cooked up as much tilapia from the freezer as we could eat and had a feast before we left.

We had decided to leave that night around 8 pm or so. They had turned on the contra-flow at that point and we figured not as many people would leave at night.

Again, for those not in the know, a contra-flow is when they make a decision to turn I-55 that starts in LA and runs through MS and beyond, into a 4 lane highway all going north. This is to help evacuees get out of the city as fast as possible.

To be continued....

Later,