A Day In The Journey

In a week and a half, my city has become a new place. And I'm not about to complain about it. In fact, in many ways I think it will be a good thing both for the city and for the people we have added. For those of you who don't know, I live in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. My parents grew up in New Orleans. My grandmother lives in Metarie. My dad's cousin lives in the 9th Ward (in Bywater). My cousina and his wife live in Kenner and he goes to UNO. So this disaster is truly home-hitting. My family was out of power until yesterday, so I typed out some thoughts on my laptop as we shared the church's extra trailer with a couple from the Slidell northshore. I've attempted to place them into an order.

August 28th
The day after my 27th birthday. I don't feel 27. How is one supposed to feel at 27? I still feel 20 and unsure of myself so much of the time. At any rate, my sister and her friends (some of whom are on the basketball team I coach) spent the last two weeks planning a surprise party for me that was held during youth group tonight. They were upset that more people couldn't come--they invited a ton--because Katrina is now headed our way. In fact, it started wind-ing and raining during youth. This one is big--N.O. has been evacuating since yesterday, today they're under a mandatory evacuation. I got into it a little with some guys on the message board about whether or not Blanco and Nagan were taking this seriously enough. They felt that they weren't, that a mandatory evacuation should have been called on Friday when the path model changed. They have no idea what it's like here--that there's only one way out of south-east Louisiana and it's through New Orleans. A mandatory evacuation too soon would just clog the roads with people doomed to ride out the storm in their cars on the side of the road. And many New Orleanians are like New Yorkers--their identity comes from where they live, they don't want to leave, and kick up a fuss when forced to; it's better to let the southern parishes get out first. One of the guys is from coastal Florida and does know a lot about hurricanes in Florida. Hurricanes in south Louisiana are a very different matter. Nagan and Blanco are doing everything they can right now. Everything beyond is up to God.

August 29th
The storm started in the night--wind just whipping through the trees. If we had had a tornado, you'd never hear it over the wind that's pummeling everything around. I can't imagine what it's like near the eye. These are just 80ish winds with gusting--155 is hard to comprehend. The power went out early this morning; this afternoon we discovered it's because the line is down. The wind is just fierce--it never stops. This evening it started dieing down. The silence is unnerving. Once you get used to the sound of the wind, not hearing sounds ominous. Power is out all around. Mom is listening to the battery operated radio that all good south-Louisianians have. We just want to hear word of New Orleans. Maw-maw is in Maryland at my aunt and uncles, but we're worried about her house. Dad picked up her car on his way here Saturday after they shut the field in, but we don't know--she lives only two blocks from the lake and with a storm like this, we're really afraid her neighborhood might have flooded.

August 30th
This morning we learned that the levees broke. The city is just inundated. We don't know where Tommy is. Danny and Lynn went to Houston, but we haven't heard from Tommy at all. We don't even know where exactly the flooding is. We heard that French Quarter and Chalmette is flooded. We aren't sure about Bywater.
Later. From what we're hearing, not only is Metarie flooded (thanks to the 17th Street canal levee, etc.), but the 9th ward is flooded, too. I'm sure he evacuated, but without word. . . .There's no power anywhere, trees over roads, all of St. Bernard and Plaquemines parishes are under water. St. Tammany may be, but nobody has heard there isn't any communication. All the cell phones are dead and land-lines are gone. Stefan called the house this afternoon. He and his wife have been living in Slidell. They evacuated, but now they don't have anywhere to go. We invited them to stay with us. Of course, we don't have any power, but. . . .They're really worried about their house and his job. Their house is right on the north shore of the lake--it's an old fishing camp--so they are pretty confident that it's just gone. He works in Covington which we've heard has flooded. There isn't power anywhere.

September 1st
Tommy is in Arkansas, soon to be in North Carolina. My whole family breathed a collective sigh of relief.

September 2nd
My brother and sister and I went to a movie tonight. We've been sharing a two-bedroom, one bath trailer with Stefan and Amanda. There is a lot of news watching--basically all the time--and I just can't take it anymore. My heart is so sickened at what people are having to endure. I'm just so overwhelmed. I needed a movie. I feel so selfish wishing for power; complaining at having to share this trailer with practical strangers. At least we have that. At least we have our own home to return to once the power goes back on. But I can't help it. Human nature winning over better impulses. I can't even imagine what it would be like to share to shelter with thousands of complete strangers; to only own a masked off square and the clothes on my back. Even for those who have homes to return to, I can't imagine the frustration of knowing that everything you own is in a flooded house that you won't be able to get back to for at least a month. Today was the day I boiled over. I reached the end of my heart. Watching these people go through another day of heat and confusion and desperation was too much for me. I stood in the shower this morning and just sobbed. What really kills me is the should-have-dones and the would-have-dones. Right. Because standing outside is just like being there. Everyone, looking back or in, has the best vision, the best plan, the best strategy. I?m not excusing the obvious malfunctions all along the line. I'm not excusing the lack of co-ordination and the need for a faster, better response. I'm not. The fact is all those things are true--there ought to have been more done faster. But the fact is also that there wasn't. And sitting around telling the t.v. what ought to be happening changes nothing. Reporters bemoaning the state of affairs and finding some way to question the President and blame Mayor Nagan (the best mayor the city's seen in a long time) because of it does nothing. The only thing that can be done now is to get off respective asses and change things now. I know it's just a frustration of the part of some--like my dad and Stefan, because the only way they know to respond is to discuss the better way to do things. Like how they critique movies by "If he really shot both barrels, he would've gone through the wall . . ." But it just makes me angry--especially when the people yipping have no idea what's really going on and who we really are. You know, the people who think Louisiana= bayous and moss, and New Orleans=Bourbon Street and jazz. It seems to be a sickness of sorts: nobody jumps on the downed cities and leaders of other places when disasters happen, but when it happens here the fault is obviously because we're stupid and don't plan anything. Of course, my response is to want to curl up in a whole, watch the news, and cry. That doesn't help, either. I just don't know what to do. I'm so close, but there's nothing I know to do. I want to help people rebuild or clean out, but they aren't even all out of danger yet. I want a flat boat and a truck so I can go down and help with search and rescue. I want to be able to give money to help people. But I can't do any of those things. I feel completely useless. The last times I felt that way the disasters were far away: Turkey, New York, Indonesia. This is in my own backyard and I can't do anything.

September 4th
Tommy's house is definitely flooded. We heard that Metarie and Kenner are "drying up." That pretty much means that Maw-maw's house has had water in it. The question is how much. My aunt and uncle keep bugging Dad about them coming down with Maw-maw to check things out, etc. Dad keeps telling them there isn't anything we can do right now anyway. And no-one is going to be let in unless they have a Jefferson Parish i.d., so what exactly is the point? Plus, there isn't any power. I think it really bothers Dad that he's trying to help keep Maw-maw out of the worry zone and Ted and Lisa aren't helping. LIke any of us need the hassle of family arguments right now. Danny and Lynn have decided to go back to Maryland for now--hopefully he can get into a college up there to finish out the semester.

September 6th
Well. Yesterday my siblings and I went to help out at a shelter here. We played with kids so parents could catch a break. I have so much respect for the people in this shelter. They've got nothing--many are from the inner city--yet you can see the hope and new-found pride they have. The realization that so many people want to help them has made an impact in their lives. The realization that you can't depend on the government to help you may make a change in their lives. Frankly, I think for so many of the people who have depended on gvment assistance for so long, this may be just the opportunity they need to see that they can do for themselves. I was talking to a friend the other day (who was very glad that every one in my family was okay) and noting how so many poor black people have been robbed by their own "leaders." For so long they've been told that they deserve the government's help, that any problems they have are not their fault and the goverment should fix them, instead of being taught how to pick themselves up and make their own way. Now I know there are poor of all ethnicities, and many of them don't do for themselves as they ought--but black leaders have spent years crippling their own people with this dogma. Now, in a time a terrible disaster, all many of them know to do is just wait for the government. Not all, though. My favourite story is of a black man who saw an empty 18-wheeler sitting by the road, "commandeered" it, loaded as many people as he could into the back of it, and drove to Baton Rouge. That's leadership. Like he said, he knows you aren't supposed to steal a truck, but he had to start getting people out. And that if the owners wanted to get the truck back, it was right here at the gas station, they didn't need it anymore. In this horrendous situation, people are learning that they can do for themselves. At any rate, the military has moved in and squleched the bad element that was making everyone else look bad. I got so angry with the media footage--how many times can they show the same exact footage of the same looters? And you know what--most of the people are just taking food and necessities, why continuously show the ones who aren't? Why not show people grabbing water and sharing it with others over and over? Why not show the footage of volunteers with boats helping old ladies off of balocnies over and over? Why not show the 4,000 National Guard troops that have been there since the day of the storm helping people? Why do they always have to show the bad stuff over and over? Why do they only talk about the problems over and over? suddenly the media illness that has plagued the troops in Iraq (lets talk about dead bodies instead of troops helping and being helped) has struck here. I'm ranting a little I know. Im just fed up.

September 8th
God bless every single person around this country who has given money, goods, and time to the people here and on the Gulf Coast. Americans are so giving. So giving. I was so impressed by a team of doctors from the Carolinas who have set up a trauma unit in the Bay St. Louis tent city to help. And I know that we don't always think so highly of the personal lives of our celebrities, but so many of them are doing so much down here. Things are turning around. And what I said earlier about stubborn New Orleanians? Notice that even now there are about 10,000 people who have refused to leave though given several chances. Nagan is pushing for a forced evacuation to prevent disease from breaking out. The water in the city. . .well, you only have to see a couple of pictures to figure it out. Search and resue is beginning to become body recovery, mainly on the gulf coast. The National Guard is still picking people off of roofs. Stefan and Amanda got to Slidell and saw their house--they'll be trying to find a new place to live. But he does still have his job. That's a real blessing.
I'm so proud of the help everyone is giving. I'm so proud of the cities who have taked in the evacuees. I hope the evacuees take advantage of every new opportunity they are given by this--the silver lining. I pray that separated fammilies find each other. I pray that we all can adjust as we need to (the traffic is terrible here now!) and become better people because of this change. I hope everyone who read this will find a way to give.

www.shareyourhome.org

www.redcross.org