Last entry five years ago today.
It’s Monday morning. I should be getting ready for work but there's no work today. New Orleans is shut down. Hurricane Katrina roars ashore near the city at about 6AM. She reaches CrabAppleLane in all her power and ugliness at about 7AM. The power goes out here and the anxiety begins. If you're a fan of big weather and you have no stake in the outcome, this is the ultimate event. The winds howl for about 8 hours. Trees all around the house are lying down. A tree trunk or a limb snaps every few minutes. You hear a blast like a gunshot when it does and you worry for a few seconds hoping it doesn't come crashing through your window or roof. Speaking of the roof, a piece of flashing keeps tilting up and down as the wind hits it. If it doesn't hold up, wind will be able to get underneath the metal panels. It holds up. When the storm is over, we have no power, the yard is a mess, and the phones are down but we're safe.
Almost immediately after the storm passes, we hear chainsaws. People are out cutting up the fallen trees on Highway 1083. CrabAppleLane is right off of 1083. We can hear the chainsaws until it gets dark 3 or 4 hours later. I figure they've cleared the roadway. There is always a tree or two down on Highway 1083 after a big thunderstorm. Hurricane Katrina was more than that so I figured there were 20 or 30 down. 1083 is about 5 miles long from Highway 40 to Highway 21. Those guys aren't even trying to clear the roadway. They're just trying to clear a path so one vehicle can pass. There are hundreds of trees down. There are trees every 10 feet. One tree sometimes but clusters of trees most of the time. It is an enormous undertaking. They are not done but they surely did a lot. What those handful of guys got done with their chainsaws in such a short period of time is nothing short of amazing.
On the south shore, there is street flooding in the places where it traditionally floods in and around New Orleans after a heavy rain. That's expected. There is an elaborate drain and pump system in place in the greater New Orleans area but it can't keep up with torrential downpours. After the rain stops, it usually takes a couple of hours for the water in the street to go down.
As night falls, we're in the dark. We have no TV because we have no electricity. A generator would get here two days later. After a major disaster of any kind, the reporting is pretty haphazard and, usually, wildly exaggerated. Remember the early reports of the San Fransisco earthquake of 1989, the early reports in the first Gulf war, the earliest reporting from 911? Katrina reporting was like that, too. People are calling into WWL (The designated emergency broadcast station in the New Orleans area) and saying some of the most ridiculous things that they'd heard or claimed to have seen. One thing was consistently reported, though. The water is rising. It should have been receding.
The water is rising.
I offer the two photos below that I took at work some three weeks after the storm. The city was still shut down. You needed a special pass to get off of the interstate. Once you were off of the interstate, it was the wild west. You could go pretty much anywhere you wanted but everyone except me was armed to the teeth. No one else is supposed to be in the city but people ARE in the city. Some are just trying to protect their property but some are up to no good. Many businesses hired security. These are not the part-time rental "mall" cops. They are very serious and heavily armed. The photos show both the start and the finish of Hurricane Katrina. The clock stopped when the power went out. About two feet above where the clock is hanging, well, look at the next picture.
When time stood still
The rest of the wall
I'm facing the north cinder block wall. The big roll-up doors on the east and west side of the building were blown in by the winds. Hurricane-force winds got inside the building and blew the wall out. Somehow, the clock remained hanging.
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