Saturday, September 03, 2005

The Fall Of New Orleans

Warning: This post may lack the humor and candor you have come to expect from us here at Dogs of Atlantis. The management apologizes for our remarkable lack of a sense of humor in the wake of hurricane Katrina, and promises that as soon as said sense of humor returns, we will attempt a return to what passes as normal around here.-DOA Management

"Do you do that every time you leave?" my next door neighbor said to me as I uttered a quiet prayer for the safety of my home as I left that morning, feeling slightly foolish as I flippantly told her, "Only when there is a Cat 5 hurricane headed this way."

"I'll see you in a few days..." I said as I left the lighthouse that serves as the office for the New Orleans Steamboat Company; Never thinking that it might be in fact, the last time I would see many of my co-workers.

"Looting? It would never come to that after a hurricane!" I snickered at the ignorance of a delightful South African couple I had met on what I would later find out would be the last train out of New Orleans for a very long time.

My hometown has all but been destroyed. Mobs wander the streets, taking what they need to survive and then some. The only rule is the rule of the gun. Personally, I have been rendered functionally homeless and jobless, unable to access what little funds I have in my bank accounts, which were all in local banks. As my good friend Javafoofoo put it, "Our beautiful city, our culturally enriched city is quickly becoming a no man's land"

There are a lot of things that are going through my mind right now. My emotions are all over the freakin place.

First, gratitude that I find myself in the company of my good friends, who you all know as Drew and Stacey from the comic strip. It is soley by their good graces that I currently have a roof over my head and food in my tummy. I have thanked them about a billion times for this over the past few days... but it still doesn't seem like enough.

Secondly, I feel a good bit of old-fashioned fear for my future. I have no frickin idea what I'm gonna do right now. Everyone I talk to to let know I'm okay asks me this, and I'm running out of glib responses.

Third, I feel a tremendous amount of sorrow for my friends and neighbors that I know chose to ride out the storm in their homes. So much is being made of the refugees in the superdome and the convention center, that I think we've forgotten completely about the people that are still huddled in their homes with no water, power, and dwindling supplies. My friend and co-worker Mack is among that number. When I spoke with him on tuesday, his phone was still working, and he had banded together with some neighbors in his apartment complex to share food, water, and mutual protection. This was before the mall across the street from him burned to the ground.

Fourth, I feel a lot of anger toward the Federal, State, and City officials for not being better prepared for this. FEMA has been saying for years that exactly this scenario would play itself out if a Cat 4 or better struck our city. Admittedly, they were all overwhelmed, but why weren't better provisions made to equip the superdome to function better as the shelter of last resort? Surely they could have spared a storage room or two to pack in a hundred thousand MRE's, and enough water for a few days. they know the superdome's capacity... they could have worked it out.

Lastly, I feel a great deal of despair... at knowing my life will never be the same after this... my friends have been scattered to the four corners of the earth, and it may be a very long time before I see any of them again... If I ever do. I long very much to be handed a very cold beer by a beautiful woman in my neighborhood bar, laughing together at the latest supermarket tabloid news, or something equally meaningless.

Okay... starting to cry now, and I can't afford to replace Drew's keyboard if I short it out. I will keep y'all posted. Thank you for letting me rant about this a little.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Words are inadequate at a time like this. Your blog has always given me a good chuckle and is one of my favourites, and I only wish there was something constructive I could do to help you. I am sure your friends are only too happy to feed and house you, relieved that you are safe. Thinking of you and all those others out there who are dealing with such a traumatic life-altering experience.

Anonymous said...

Daily check-in. I hope things are OK.