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One Year Ago Today…

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One Year Ago Today…
(note: I wrote this August 29th, one year after Hurricane Katrina. I was in California at the time and unable to access my blog so here it is, a bit late.)

Certain events touch us in such a way that they leave an indelible mark on our souls. Those are the events we will always remember with “I was in such and such a place or doing such and such when I heard the news.” For instance, anyone old enough to remember will know exactly where they were when they heard that President Kennedy had been shot. I was too young for that one but I’ll never forget the Oklahoma City bombing or 9/11. As horrifying as each of these were, Hurricane Katrina is the disaster that touched me in a more personal way.

Twenty five years ago David and I spent our honeymoon in New Orleans. I was instantly captivated by America’s most European city and soon began plotting ways to return as often as possible. My love for this city grew deeper with each visit and eventually David was smitten as well. Last August we took a trip there that would forever change our lives.

With a newly married daughter spelling the end of my decade long career as a homeschool mom, I was struggling a bit with the empty nest and maybe even with a touch of midlife crisis. A trip to New Orleans was just what the doctor ordered (figuratively speaking) and only a few days into our vacation I began to see the possibilities that might exist for just the two of us. In fact, we were having such a fabulous time that midweek David suggested we extend our stay a couple of extra days. Little did we know that decision would turn out to be a potentially risky one.

On Wednesday we changed our flight from Friday, August 26th to Sunday, August 28th, made reservations for a couple of nights at the Wyndham and proceeded to enjoy every moment of our remaining time in the Big Easy. We even bought a timeshare at the yet unbuilt La Belle Maison. We would now have enough timeshare points to allow us to vacation in New Orleans 3 or 4 times a year. We talked about someday taking our kids, their spouses, and grandchildren with us. We even began to seriously discuss the possibility of retiring in New Orleans.

At this point we were only vaguely aware of a storm brewing — we don’t generally watch much television in a city where people watching is so much more entertaining. As I recall, it was Friday when we first realized that the storm might be a threat to New Orleans. When we awakened on Saturday David turned on the television while I was getting ready and we were stunned to realize we were faced with the very real possibility that a massive hurricane could very likely make a direct hit on New Orleans. At that point it was too late to change our flights and in fact, we were to learn that at least one airline stopped all flights in and out of the city on Saturday, two days before the hurricane arrived. Fortunately we were booked on Southwest and were hopeful that they would get us out safely. Still, we weren’t ignoring the possibility that we might be stranded, especially as we watched the news footage of bumper to bumper traffic heading to the airport and out of the city. We decided to buy some bottled water “just in case” and asked at our hotel what sort of emergency plans were in place. It was more than a bit disconcerting to discover they really didn’t have much of a plan.

David and I discussed our options, made our own plans and then decided to attend a hurricane party on Bourbon Street. I realize that may sound a bit crazy but we figured, what the heck? There really wasn’t anything else we could do so we might as well enjoy a final party. It also happened to be my birthday!

Even though our flight was scheduled to depart at about 11:30 a.m., we were up at 5 o’clock to get ready. We knew it might take awhile to get to the airport. The first thing David did when he got up was to look out the window of our room on the 22nd floor overlooking the river and the French Quarter. It was a gorgeous view but David was rather disturbed to note that there was not a cab in sight. The usually busy streets were empty.

Fortunately the bell captain was finally able to get us a cab which we shared with three other people. Amazingly, this elderly driver got us to the airport in 25 minutes via a rather circuitous route which managed to avoid all the traffic. He overcharged us all and we were still happy to add a hefty tip! Inside the terminal it looked like the busiest day at Disneyland with crowds lined up to see the newest attraction. Even so, I was pleasantly surprised by the general good cheer and friendliness of the people. It was a long wait to check in but every minute brought us closer to a safe escape. We didn’t truly breathe easily until the plane pulled away from the terminal. We took a final look at our favorite city as the plane lifted off and silently prayed that the dire predictions of total destruction would not come to pass.

We were one of the last flights out of New Orleans and were greatly relieved to be on our way to safety. We then spent much of the following week watching in horror as the city we had grown to love so much suffered the worst disaster in American history.

So today, one year after Katrina vented her wrath along the Gulf Coast, I can’t help but reflect on this catastrophic event and the subsequent recovery efforts. We were first able to return for a visit this past April and again in June to celebrate our 25th anniversary. It’s a mixed bag. Tourist areas are up and running for the most part but a drive through surrounding areas will break your heart. I will refrain from any political ranting (at least for now) except to say that I’m terribly disappointed that the richest nation in the world has been so slow to respond to this crisis.

I know it sounds crazy but David and I still hope to live in New Orleans someday. Despite Katrina’s best efforts, the spirit of this great city was not destroyed. The recovery will continue for many, many years and some things will never be the same. However, I firmly believe that nothing can keep this vibrant city down for long. Businesses will continue to reopen; homes will be rebuilt; people will return; life will go on. We will visit as often as possible, spending our tourist dollars in a city that needs them so desperately. And someday, just maybe, we will experience the city as permanent residents rather than merely visitors.

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  1. roz says

    Thanks for you post…I so well remember watching the news the first few hours after the storm and being thankful that it seemed that the city had avoided a direct hit and would be okay, only to learn later of the levee breaks and the horrific nature of the damage. I then spent the next 3 days, running back and forth between the computer (where I could watch a live feed from WWL out of New Orleans or in actuality Baton Rouge, where they had relocated their anchors) and the regular TV programming of CNN and others…and crying…and crying.

    Glad you are home…look forward to seeing you on Sunday!

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