Dana's Katrina story
I just had the time to sit down and read this email....Dana and I grew up together, best friends from age one....Our mothers are best friends....We grew apart in high school and I haven't really seen her in several years....She was the only one unaccounted for after the hurricane, for weeks we didn't know if she was dead or alive. Her mother forwarded me this email the other day and I just bawled my eyes out when reading it....Anyway, thought some of y'all should read it.....First hand account of the madness that happened down there....It's really long but read it when you have some time.....
> So, I figured that I would finally write down my
> story, since all of my friends keep asking me what
> happened. You don't have to read it, since it's kind
> of long, but here it is:
>
> On Saturday night, I went to work as usual. I
> had heard something about a hurricane on the news, but
> they ALWAYS tell you to evacuate, and it's always a
> big waste of time and money, so I had no intention of
> going anywhere. I planned on drinking with my
> friends, as is traditional in New Orleans during a
> hurricane.
> The bartender at Cafe Beignet that night was
> Barbara, my friend Andrea's mom. Andrea was the
> m.o.d. that evening. Andrea and I agreed that
> evacuating would be ridiculous, but Barbara was very
> freaked out about Katrina. She thought that we should
> caravan and get out of town. We talked about going to
> Houston, and hitting Astroworld while we were at it,
> but I still had no intention of actually leaving.
> Andrea decided to come over to my house with her
> boyfriend for the hurricane, and we would drink and
> play board games, and watch the storm. We would have
> a great hurricane party.
> After work, Andrea and I went out for a couple of
> drinks and ate at Angeli's. The service was kind of
> slow because the employees were busy boarding up the
> windows. I dropped her off at her house on Esplanade,
> planning to pick her up sometime the next day. I then
> went home and crashed.
> I woke up at around noon or one on Sunday. I
> called Andrea to see if she wanted to go eat sushi
> before coming over, but she had evacuated after all.
> Her mom had nagged her into it, and she was really
> annoyed. I thought then about hitting the road
> myself, since I would have no one to hang out with
> here.
> I only had a quarter of a tank of gas, and my car
> stalls when it's going very slow, so I didn't think I
> would get far. The news said that traffic was
> seriously backed up. I called my roommate to see
> where he was, and he was downtown, doing laundry. He
> said that the gas stations by the house were closed
> and out of gas. Unable to fill up the tank, I didn't
> see the point of leaving. I would just hang out with
> him.
> I talked to my mom a couple of times that
> afternoon, and knew that she was going to Little Rock
> with Bob and the kids. I told her "good luck", but I
> was staying. "I'll talk to you tomorrow," I said.
> Greg and I had stocked up on food and water, I
> washed and filled the tub, and I filled the fridge and
> freezer with bags of ice. I expected the power to go
> out, and I didn't want my stuff to go bad. I had just
> spent a fortune at Whole Foods, buying groceries.
> We watched movies and the news until the power
> went out. A tree branch fell onto the line on the
> corner, and it was touching the intersecting line, and
> caused the transformer to blow. The explosion sounded
> huge, but nothing caught on fire. We were
> unconcerned. Greg and I stayed up and played Monopoly
> by candlelight. We passed go, collected $200, and did
> shots. It was fun; I kicked Greg's ass. I ended up
> owning everything and Greg went bankrupt. It was a
> good game. I went to bed in a good mood.
> I woke up several times that night. The wind was
> really, really blowing, and the neighbor had left his
> car alarm on, so it KEPT GOING OFF. I thought about
> going over there with a baseball bat, but I restrained
> myself. Bits of my neighbors tin roof flew off, but
> nothing crashed into my house. I started getting a
> bit nervous, but I knew that it would be over soon. I
> finally fell asleep.
> I woke up at around 7:30 and looked out the
> window. There was a bit of water in the street, but
> since I had moved my car up onto the lawn, I was not
> worried. I saw a lot of trees down, and parts of roof
> in the street. I went back to bed.
> At around 10 or 10:30, Greg knocked on my door
> and woke me up. He said that I should look out the
> window. I got up, annoyed, and went to the living
> room. The board we nailed over one of the picture
> windows had blown off, so I had a good view. The
> water was almost to my porch. My car had water in it.
> My neighborhood was now a lake.
> We rushed around grabbing stuff. We each packed
> a backpack, and I got the cat carrier put together.
> We put jugs of water, canned food, and dog and cat
> food on our upstairs neighbor's back porch, just in
> case.
> I packed my birth certificate, my high school and
> college diplomas, my passport. I packed the camera
> that my parents had given me for Christmas and an
> extra roll of film. I picked up the book that I was
> currently reading, A Confederacy of Dunces (I couldn't
> leave it behind, unfinished). I took my wallet and
> all the money I had. I grabbed a couple of changes of
> clothes, my travel toothbrush and toothpaste. I took
> tooth floss. I had solid shampoo and conditioner and
> soap from Lush, so I packed these, also. I grabbed
> band-aids, aspirin, and other first-aid supplies. I
> also packed a flashlight, my discman/radio, and extra
> batteries. I had been a Girl Scout for many years,
> and I took the kind of things that I used to bring
> with me to camp. I thought about dumping my jewelry
> into my bag, but it was already very heavy, and I
> figured that I could always come back and get it.
> I checked the water again, and it was almost to
> the door. I tried to move my stuff higher. I moved
> the books that were on bottom shelves onto counters.
> I put my DVDs on the table. I threw my shoes onto the
> sofa. I had a teddy bear that my mom gave me on my
> first birthday and a rabbit she gave me for my third
> Easter--I put them on a table in my bedroom.
> The water was about to come in, so we climbed
> onto the roof of the shed and then onto the upstairs
> porch. It was only about two feet, square. I grabbed
> a blanket and an umbrella to cover us. We huddled
> there, me, Greg, Tanuki (my dog), and Faustus (my
> cat). The rain and the wind made us miserable. (One
> good note--the water finally got high enough to get to
> my neighbor's damned car alarm, and it stopped going
> the fuck off!)
> The flood continued to rise, so I kept going back
> into the apartment to move stuff higher. I had to go
> through the back bedroom window, since I couldn't get
> to the back door anymore--the water was too high.
> I put my photo albums on a high shelf in the
> closet, as well as my Harry Potter books. One of my
> albums was already ruined, because I had left it on my
> desk, and the water had reached it. I hadn't finished
> putting the photos in it that I took when I was in
> Florence and Rome. They were all just crammed inside,
> now destroyed.
> It was too late for the books in my room, too. I
> had just bought Jon Stewart's America, and it was on
> the floor by my bed. I had stacks of other books,
> that were also now under water. Gray's Anatomy, my
> Marvin Harris books, Wicked, my World Atlas of
> Archeology, and so many others--these were all gone.
> (I guess you can tell what kind of person I am, that I
> am grieving so much for my books.)
> Finally, I had to get out, because I was tripping
> on things that were being moved about by the filthy,
> black water. I couldn't see anything through that
> water. I had to give up.
> I climbed back onto the porch. We didn't know
> what we were going to do. We were cramped and
> miserable, exposed to the elements. The umbrella had
> long since broken, and the blanket was soaked through
> and useless in the wind.
> We noticed that our next-door neighbor had a much
> larger, covered porch. How would we get there? We
> could swim, but I was unwilling to let my few
> possessions left get wet. I also didn't think that I
> could swim with the cat carrier. Then I remembered!
> My mom had lent Greg her queen sized air mattress to
> sleep on, since he didn't have a bed. We could
> inflate it and use it as a raft. It had a leak, but
> maybe it would get us across to the next house.
> I walked down the back steps to the window. I
> opened it, and many of my already floating possessions
> were swept outside(my Greek text books, my globe, my
> Indiana Jones fedora). I climbed in to the now
> chest-deep water and got the deflated mattress off of
> the desk it was folded up on. I pulled it back to the
> porch and went to work blowing it up. Greg took one
> useless turn. He is a heavy smoker, and so had no
> lung capacity. He mostly just spit all over the
> valve. I ended up inflating it by myself. We loaded
> the cat and our stuff onto it and swam next door,
> pushing the mattress.
> Tanuki was unhappy about the situation, but he
> swam with Greg and got to the porch, while I brought
> the mattress. We brought our stuff up and settled in,
> much more comfortable (relatively speaking)than we had
> been.
> At one point, I heard a man screaming for help.
> I could tell that it was coming from Robert E. Lee
> Blvd., on the other side of my apartment. I yelled
> back to the man, but he was too panicked to respond.
> He just kept screaming for help. I couldn't just sit
> there. I swam back to my apt., and climbed onto the
> shed. Robert E. Lee was like a river. The water was
> rushing down the street at an unbelievable rate. I
> had been whitewater rafting before, and it reminded me
> of that. I climbed over the top of my fence and got
> into the water. Clinging to the insect covered
> boards, I made my way down the length of the yard,
> still yelling to the man. Then I saw him. He was a
> 30-35ish man, clinging to a pathetically small branch.
> He was being swept down the street. I guess he had
> been in a tree, and the branch broke, because he had
> been screaming for a few minutes. I tried to swim out
> to him, but I had to turn back because the current was
> so strong. I couldn't get to him. I watched him go
> under, farther down the street. I guess he drowned.
> I could do nothing. I couldn't even cry at that
> point. I was emotionally exhausted. I made my way
> back to the neighbor's porch. I didn't even tell Greg
> that the man had been pulled under. I just said that
> I couldn't get to him.
> We spent most of the evening being bitten by
> mosquitoes and trying to flag the Coast Guard
> helicopters we saw flying overhead. We saw them
> rescue a few of our neighbors from their roofs, but
> they didn't come for us. I got through to 911 on my
> cell phone three times, but still no one came. I
> listened to the radio on my discman, hoping for news
> of a rescue. Kathy Blanco said that there would be
> thousands of boats sent out at dawn to go through the
> neighborhoods and rescue people. We could wait for a
> morning rescue. We would be okay.
> We kept trying to signal the helicopters all
> night, anyway. Both of us had brought flashlights, so
> I S.O.S.ed them in Morse code (all that I remembered
> from scouting). They didn't stop. At one point a
> helicopter had its spotlight directly on us, and we
> jumped and waved and shouted. It moved on.
> We heard someone else crying for help. It was an
> old lady. I yelled back, "where are you?" She didn't
> answer. I don't think she could hear me. I thought
> it was coming from a house behind us on the block. I
> tried to swim over there, in the dark. The trees in
> the back yard blocked my way. I couldn't get through
> them. Some had fallen over, and there was no way to
> get across. One more person I couldn't save. I swam
> back to the porch, feeling utterly helpless.
> A little while later, we heard a couple of guys
> in a boat. They went down the street behind us. They
> rescued the old lady and another old man next door to
> her. We shouted to them, but they didn't come back
> for us. It was okay; at least the old lady was safe.
> We finally went to sleep.
> I woke up right at dawn, anxious to be rescued by
> one of the boats the governor had promised. I knew
> that I'd see them any minute. We packed up our stuff
> and waited to be saved.
> After several hours, we saw a boat. It was a
> couple and their young daughter, paddling down Robt.
> E. Lee. "Hey, have you seen any rescue boats," I
> called to them.
> "There are a couple, I think," the lady shouted
> back. "If we see one, we'll tell them you're here."
> Finally, we would be saved. A few more hours,
> and still, no one had come. We had seen a couple more
> small boats go by, paddled by neighbors, but they were
> too small for all of us. A couple of people told us
> that the firemen were out in boats and that they were
> taking people to the UNO dorms. They would tell
> someone we were here. Time went by. No rescuers,
> yet.
> At last, we saw a boat with some firemen. "Hey,
> we're here, we need rescue," I shouted.
> "Can you get to your roof?"
> "No, but we can swim back to the roof of the
> shed. We have two adults, a dog, and a cat in a
> carrier," I replied.
> "We can't take the pets, just you."
> "I'm not leaving my pets."
> "Well, good luck, then," he said as he left.
> Great. So we would not be rescued. I supposed
> that we would just have to rescue ourselves.
> I wasn't sure that the mattress would make it all
> the way to the dorms, with the leak. I had
> re-inflated it the night before for us to sleep on,
> and it was flat by morning. I inflated it again, and
> tried to come up with a solution. While I thought, I
> looked around the porch. Some shelves, a dryer, a
> broom, and...DUCT TAPE!!! Perfect! I patched the
> hole with many, many layers, and loaded up the
> mattress for another trip.
> At first, I swam, pushing and pulling the
> mattress, while Greg swam with Tanuki. Unfortunately,
> both of them tired quickly. We got Tanuki onto the
> mattress and Greg held him down and held on, as well.
> I had to swim a couple of blocks down before I found a
> street that wasn't totally blocked by trees and downed
> power lines. Tanuki wouldn't stay on the mattress, so
> Greg and he got off, and Greg held the dog and grabbed
> a log and kicked along behind me. We made it to Ben
> Franklin high school and stopped so Greg could take a
> break. (He was really out of shape.) We then swam
> the rest of the way to the dorms, finally getting to a
> parking lot that was shallow enough to wade in, and
> Tanuki could be held down on the mattress.
> As we approached the back entrance, a head stuck
> out of a window. "Do you guys need shelter?" the man
> asked.
> "Yes, we definitely do," I replied.
> "Well, come on in through the back and up the
> stairs. The first floor is flooded."
> I thanked him and we waded in. We had to carry
> our stuff through the doorway, since the mattress
> couldn't fit floating. We pulled it along with us and
> left it drifting in the lobby with the other boats as
> we made our way up the pitch black stairwell. Using
> our flashlights, we made our way up. There was no one
> on the second floor, and the third floor was also
> deserted. On the fourth floor, we met a man.
> "Do you guys need a room?"
> I told him that we did, and he led us down the
> hall. There were several other people in busted open
> dorm rooms, even a family with a baby, and a few dogs.
> The man led us to a door and let us in.
> "Here you go."
> "Thank you so much," I told him, truly being more
> thankful for the sight of a bed than I had ever been
> in my whole life. There were two beds, and we hit
> them hard. I think it was the best nap I have ever
> had.
> Before we slept, though, Gregory and I talked
> about our current situation. I thought that we had
> come to a pretty good place, and should stay here
> until we were rescued. He thought we should move on
> after our naps. I told him that I didn't think we
> could get far with the mattress, and he replied that
> we should steal one of the two boats that were
> floating in the lobby. I thought this idea was
> repugnant, and I flat-out refused. I was not about to
> steal someone else's boat and leave them stranded. I
> told him that if he did it, I would not be going with
> him. He backed down, and we went to sleep.
> A few hours later, when I woke up, I went out
> into the hall to meet the other people and find out
> what I could about our situation. There were several
> people with whom I spoke, and none of them really knew
> any more than I did. No one knew how long we would be
> there, but everyone agreed that it was way better than
> being stuck on a roof somewhere.
> I met Julie, who was a neighbor whom I had never
> met. A man named Ricky (who lived next door to her)
> had rescued her and four of her dogs in a boat and
> brought her here. (Ricky was out, scavenging for food
> and water, so I met him later.) Julie had brought
> only her dogs, the cremated remains another of her
> dogs, and her St. Jude statue (how appropriate--St.
> Jude is the patron saint of lost causes). She hadn't
> even brought a change of clothes.
> Several other people had been brought to the
> dorms by Ricky, as well, including the old lady I
> heard calling for help. She couldn't swim and was
> stuck in her house, with the water at her chin when
> she was rescued.
> A little while later, I met Ricky. I could tell
> as soon as he opened his mouth that he was from the
> 9th ward. His dialect was unmistakable. He was nice,
> though loud and outspoken. He was just a couple of
> years older than me. Ricky had taken the boat out,
> and had just returned. He had brought back food,
> water, and beer (a hurricane necessity)from his
> outing. I didn't want to live off of other people, so
> I offered to go with him on another trip in the
> morning.
> At this time I also met Cody. He was the guy who
> saw us from the window outside of the dorms. He was
> actually a student and lived in the dorms, on the 6th
> floor. His story was particularly bizarre.
> Cody had just celebrated his birthday. He had
> gone out all night with his friends and drank until he
> passed out. He wasn't even sure how he had made it
> back to his room. The next day, he was not only
> hungover, he was still drunk. He had only a small
> awareness of people rushing around the dorms, telling
> him to get up, to hurry up. He slept all that day.
> The next day, when he finally woke up, everyone was
> gone. They had evacuated the dorms without him. He
> had been left behind, alone, to face the hurricane.
> He was very glad to see other people when they showed
> up, looking for shelter.
> That night a small group of us hung out, eating
> and drinking and talking, and watching the stars for
> the first time over the city of New Orleans. Ricky
> and I leaned out the window of a dorm room, drinking
> our beers. Neither of us had ever imagined such a
> sight. The sky was mirrored in the now placid lake
> surrounding the dorms. Here and there the tops of
> trees and houses stuck out. There was a street sign,
> saying Leon C. Simon, but the street was nowhere to be
> found, laying deep below the murky water. I had a
> great time. I wouldn't mind having to spend a few
> days there before being rescued.
> After a VERY good night's sleep, Ricky and I took
> the boat out. Another thing I had learned in Girl
> Scouts was canoeing, which definitely proved useful.
> We paddled down St. Anthony to Robert E. Lee. On the
> way, we stopped by a house I had seen the day before.
> There was a boat, and I thought we might be able to
> use it to escape, if we needed to. We got closer to
> check it out. We pulled up alongside of it, and Ricky
> lifted the tarp that was covering it. There, right
> under the tarp, was a pile of guns. An AK-47, an Uzi,
> a 9mm., and a pellet gun. What the fuck. Using his
> shirt, Ricky picked them up to see if they were real.
> They were. We decided to get the hell out of there.
> We continued on our way to Elysian Fields, leaving the
> guns where we found them.
> On the way, we passed my house. Only the top of my
> front door was visible. It was depressing. We then
> paddled to Walgreens. The glass in the windows near
> the ceiling had been broken, and we could see food,
> drinks, diapers, toilet paper, etc. floating at the
> top. There was an older man in an inflatable raft
> inside, coming out. He told us that he was a
> methadone patient and he was looking for some kind of
> medication, but that it was all locked up. I was a
> bit nervous, but he paddled out and away from us,
> without incident. We tried to get our boat in to
> paddle around, but it wouldn't fit. We decided to
> come back later with a smaller boat which Ricky had
> found the day before. We still grabbed anything
> within reach that might be useful. Bottled water was
> our main objective, but we couldn't see much of it
> near the window. There were lots of cigarettes,
> though, so we grabbed them for the smokers in the
> dorms.
> Next, we headed for the gas station across the
> street. Its windows were also broken, but we would
> have to get in the water to get anything. We decided
> to wait until we came back. Again, we grabbed what we
> could that was within reach.
> As we paddled back, I was still amazed at the
> sight of my entire neighborhood under water. It was
> just eerie. I became lost in my thoughts, but was
> pulled out by another shock. The back of a man's
> head, back, shoulders, legs--floating. He had
> drowned, I supposed. I said nothing to Ricky. I
> didn't want him to see it, too. I don't think he
> noticed it. We paddled on to the dorms.
> We pulled into the lobby and unloaded everything
> we had gotten. We decided to take a break before
> going again. A couple of hours later, we took the
> boat back out, this time towing the smaller boat
> (which leaked), and also with Gregory and Cody. We
> dropped a father and his daughter off at their house
> (they lived on the second floor) so they could get
> some of their things. Then we headed back to
> Walgreens.
> On the way we ran into other boats of people.
> One fireman asked where we were going. I said "to
> Walgreens". He replied, "Walgreens is closed."
> "Not to us," Ricky replied under his breath.
> I just told the guy "okay" and "thanks." We
> continued on our way. Another fireman asked if we
> needed anything.
> "We could really use some water and food, if you
> want to drop some off at the dorms," I told him. He
> just laughed.
> At Walgreens, we pushed the small boat inside and
> climbed into it. Ricky and I took the paddles and
> scavenged around, while Greg and Cody waited in the
> larger boat outside. We filled the boat with useful
> items. Hand sanitizer, vitamins, water, packaged
> food, diapers for the two babies, sunscreen, tampax,
> aloe, band-aids--we grabbed anything that could
> possibly be useful, leaving behind unnecessary items.
> We weren't looters, after all; we were just trying to
> survive.
> We struggled to get the laden boat back out, but
> we eventually succeeded. We then made our way to the
> gas station. There, we had to get in the water. The
> boat couldn't fit in the window. Ricky dove in first,
> then Cody, and then myself. As was typical, Greg
> stayed in the boat and waited, doing as little work as
> possible. We got tons of bottled water and juice from
> there. We also helped ourselves to more beer. (They
> couldn't really sell it after this, could they?) We
> relayed stuff to the boat. Ricky went in the coolers
> and tossed the bottles and cans out. Cody and I
> grabbed the floating supplies and brought them to the
> boat. Greg fished them out of the water and tossed
> them in.
> Unfortunately, there was something else in that
> water with us. Probably a gar-fish, it was large and
> creepy. The water was too black with sewerage and
> other filth to actually see anything. We kept feeling
> it hit our legs. We finally decided to get the hell
> out of there, before it bit one of us.
> We slowly, ponderously, made our way back to the
> dorms again. Ricky would go back to pick up the
> father and daughter later. We were exhausted. Other
> people staying in the dorms helped us unload the
> boats. We made several trips up the stairs. Greg
> brought a load up and dropped it off in our room,
> along with his back pack, which contained some of his
> personal items.
> We went back for more stuff from the boat and
> back up the stairs. As Greg returned to the room, he
> saw three people emerge from our room. Two young boys
> and a woman (about 19ish) were coming out into the
> hallway. When he asked what they were doing, they
> ran. He went back into the room and saw that the bag
> was unzipped and there were items missing from it. He
> started shouting.
> He told the rest of us that the kids had taken
> his wallet. We cornered them, and the girl was, in
> fact, holding his flashlight. I grabbed it from her.
> They denied having anything else. It ended up that
> the wallet was still in the bag, but they took the
> flashlight and a pack of cigarettes. They probably
> just hadn't found the wallet yet, since it was in
> another compartment and Greg had surprised them.
> I was furious, anyway. What kind of people would
> steal from us when we were out, diving into raw
> sewerage to obtain food and water for them? We were
> trying to help them, and they took even more. That
> was when I realized that there would be more of this
> sort of thing during the hurricane aftermath.
> Some firemen had originally given Ricky an axe
> and told him to break into dorm rooms so people would
> have a place to stay. They dropped off several people
> in addition to the ones he had rescued. We were all
> aware of the fact that these were other people's
> rooms, and tried to be respectful. I didn't take
> anything but food, water, and a change of clothes. (I
> didn't even take nice clothes, but raggedy old jeans
> and a wifebeater.) My clothes were soaked in
> floodwater, and I couldn't wear them. Most of the
> others did the same. These kids who had come into our
> room were another story, though. They trashed the
> room they were in, moved to another room, and trashed
> it, as well. They found an X-Box, and stole it.
> Where were they going to play it, I wondered. I
> realized that there were some people who were going to
> take advantage of the situation, and weren't really of
> the "live and let live" mentality. There was nothing
> we could do about them, though, so we just went about
> our business and kept an eye on each others rooms.
> I took a quick shower with some of the bottled
> water we had found, and settled down for a nap. Just
> then, I heard shouting.
> "Is anybody here?" A man's voice came from the
> stairwell. "Anybody who is still here needs to come
> to the main campus right now. We are airlifting you
> out in five minutes."
> I considered not even responding. We had been
> listening to the radio, and knew what was going on in
> the Superdome. We were afraid they would take us
> there. I personally would rather wait it out in the
> dorms, with good people, that be thrown to the wolves
> in the Superdome.
> Ricky came into the room and asked Greg and I,
> "what do you want to do?"
> We discussed it for a few minutes before deciding
> to go. We didn't want to be left behind. We figured
> we could stay there for a week, maybe, but no longer.
> We didn't want to run out of food or water, or be
> forgotten. We repacked our stuff and headed down the
> stairs.
> The man who had called to us was another fireman.
> He told us that there was another hurricane about to
> hit the city, and that New Orleans would be completely
> submerged this time. He said that the entire city was
> being evacuated, and that they were getting us out of
> there tonight, in just a few minutes, by helicopter.
> This time, no one would be left behind. Anyone who
> was left would die.
> We asked if we could bring our pets. We would
> not go without them. We wanted to get out of the
> city, but we couldn't abandon them. We had to take
> them with us. He said we could. So, we followed him
> out to the main campus.
> There were thousands of other people, in lines,
> waiting. Helicopters were setting down, loading up
> with 12-15 people, and lifting off again, quickly.
> Maybe they would get us all out that night. We sat
> down to wait.
> After a few minutes, the fireman came back. He
> had made a mistake, he said. The pets would not be
> allowed.
> I told him that I would stay with my dog and cat.
> I would not leave them, no matter what. He told me
> that it was my choice, but that I would be left
> behind.
> "Fine with me," I said.
> Ricky's friend Bobby went to the line. So did
> Cody. Ricky, Greg, Julie, and I were left. Julie
> still had four of her dogs, and she wouldn't leave
> them. She had been forced to leave four dogs in her
> apartment to die, and she wouldn't abandon these. An
> old man with a toy poodle he had for eleven years left
> her by us, just assuming one of us would take her. He
> was unwilling to stay with her. Julie now had five
> dogs.
> The only time I ever saw Ricky cry was now. He
> was a tough guy, but he truly loved his 8 month old
> pit bull, Chewy. Chewy was a sweet, affectionate
> puppy who had been rescued from a life of dog fights
> by Ricky. He had actually stolen him from a man who
> intended to fight the dog. He couldn't leave Chewy,
> but he couldn't stay behind, either. He decided to
> leave Chewy in a classroom, and try to come back for
> him. When Ricky came back, alone, it looked like a
> piece of him was missing. He got into the line. I
> stayed with Greg and Julie and our pets.
> We figured that if we waited until last, they
> might let us on with our dogs (and cat). It was worth
> a try. Someone had to go last anyway, it might as
> well be us. There was no other way.
> It started to grow dark, and the helicopters
> slowed. They finally stopped coming at 8 p.m. There
> would be no more until 8 a.m. the next day. There
> were still thousands of people on campus, with more
> ariving every minute. We would have to find a place
> to sleep for the night.
> I wanted to go back to the dorms. It had at
> least been comfortable there, and there was only open
> sky on campus. We could find a classroom and sleep on
> a hard floor, but that would be hot and miserable. We
> decided to try to go back. Ricky (with Chewy), Julie
> and her five dogs, Greg, and I (with Tanuki and
> Faustus) made our way back through the water. Someone
> followed us, though. We didn't know who it was, and
> they wouldn't respond when we called to them. There
> were two flashlights, though, so there were at least
> two people. I thought it might be campus security,
> but we weren't sure.
> I thought that we should proceed to the dorms,
> but the others were nervous about the situation, so we
> turned back. At this point, I got a little annoyed.
> It had taken us a while to decide to go back to the
> dorms, and now everyone was being wishy-washy. I felt
> like the others were being paranoid, and I was mad at
> Greg for just following along with Ricky, rather than
> making a decision for himself. He just kept agreeing
> with whatever Ricky said. Julie did that, too, but I
> understood that she was afraid and in a strange
> situation, so she just went along with everyone else
> to be agreeable. Greg, on the other hand, was a
> Marine at one time, and had seen combat. I expected
> some strength of character from him. In that, I was
> disappointed. He proved to be completely spineless.
> On the way back to campus, we got into an
> arguement about it. He became quite obnoxious, and I
> admit I was yelling a lot. When the others (who had
> joined the line)walked back to us at the picnic table
> at which we had stopped, he APOLOGIZED for my
> behavior. I told him to go fuck himself, and went to
> a classroom to sleep with just my dog and cat.
> It was a nervous and uncomfortable night. I
> slept on the hard floor of the classroom and kept the
> windows closed to keep the mosquitos out. It was
> unbelievably hot. There was no way to lock the door,
> so someone could walk in at any time. I slept
> lightly, clutching my flashlight (it was a heavy metal
> Mag-light, so could be used for a weapon in a pinch).
> Ricky ended up coming to sleep in the classroom and
> cuddled up near the back with an Argentinian girl who
> was with us in the dorms. That was only an hour
> before dawn.
> As the sun came up, I got ready. I wanted to be
> packed up and outside when the helicopters came. I
> brought my bag and pets to the back of the line, sat,
> and waited. Eventually, Julie came to sit by me with
> her dogs. Soon, Ricky followed with Chewy. Both Greg
> and the Argentinian got into line at the front, away
> from us. I didn't speak to Gregory again.
> As 8:00 a.m. approached, the crowd grew restless.
> The sky was blessedly overcast, so it was a little
> cool. We waited and waited. The helicopters still
> hadn't come by 10. Word passed through the crowd that
> some people in another part of New Orleans had shot at
> a helicopter, so they weren't picking anyone else up.
> Another rumour was that they wouldn't fly when it was
> cloudy. (I guess that's why the war in Iraq is going
> so poorly. If you can't fly in the dark or when it's
> cloudy, how can you fight a war?)
> Finally, a helicopter came. Then another one.
> Then nothing for a while. Then another one. In all,
> fewer that 20 helicopters landed that day, and the
> number may have been closer to 10.
> We weren't too bad off, though. MREs were being
> given out, along with bottled water and sports drinks.
> They gave us apples and other snacks, too. We sat
> and hung out, talking to various people. People
> gossiped and told stories. We believed nothing we
> were told unless the person was wearing a badge. And
> not always then, since the police and firement were
> obviously not communicating, and none of them really
> knew anything.
> Ricky took Chewy for a swim in the pool at the
> gym; when he came back, Julie and I took our turn. We
> went with Tanuki and bathed and swam and had a pretty
> good time. We were nervous, of course. There had
> already been violent incidents on campus. The night
> before, a girl was raped in the new business building.
> There were fights. People were looting all over
> campus. The business building, the CRC, the
> bookstore, and the gym had all been looted. Someone
> even stole the yoga mat from the display case at the
> front. So, yes, we were definitely nervous.
> We swam without incident, and returned to our
> spot by the business building. Ricky had grown
> worried, since we had taken so long, but it was for
> nothing.
> When we got back, he was talking to two men.
> They were both very drunk, and were arguing about what
> kind of helicopter it was that was being used for the
> pick-ups. Both were ex-marines; the older man had
> retired, and the younger man had just served one term
> and gotten out. They asked Ricky who we were. He
> told them that Julie was his mother and that I was his
> girlfriend, so "hands off".
> They bickered for a while about nonsense and then
> left. Ricky told us that they had been talking about
> "looking for some pussy" and wanted to keep them the
> heck away from us. He ended up bringing them over to
> the dorms to spend the night there, so they wouldn't
> be around to bother us. He thought they might become
> violent as they continued to drink and look for women.
> His quick thinking probably saved us from a lot of
> trouble. Maybe from worse.
> As it grew dark once again, the helicopters
> stopped coming. A new rumor ran through the crowd; we
> were all supposed to walk to the private airfield in
> New Orleans East. There would be no more food or
> pick-ups on UNO's campus. We didn't believe it. I
> asked a fireman and he said it was nonsense. Still,
> hundreds of people went, dragging their bags and
> pillows behind them. Among them were Greg, Cody, and
> Bobby. I told them not to go, but they left anyway.
> We didn't see them again.
> Once again, we spent the night in that classroom.
> Julie slept with her five dogs. Ricky and I slept
> next to each other, on top of every article of
> clothing we owned, because the floor was so damned
> hard. I was very sunburned, so he offered to rub aloe
> on my back and neck. I accepted his offer, and it all
> went downhill from there. (Well, in a good way.)
> The next morning, we decided that we were not
> going to wait anymore. Why waste another day, sitting
> and doing nothing? We decided to walk along the levee
> to the Coast Guard base and try to get out from there.
> We didn't think they would turn us away. We ate our
> breakfast of MREs and loaded up a grocery cart with
> our stuff. As we made our way around campus and up
> the levee, we saw large helicopters landing on the
> field. They were those kinds with two rotary blades
> on top, instead of just one. I don't know what
> they're actually called, but they're big. I figured
> that if they were going to use those, they might
> actually pick everyone up today. We decided to go
> back. We waited only half an hour before heavily
> armed coasties came up over the levee. They started
> bringing people to the lake to put on boats. They
> said we could bring our pets. We were saved! Or so
> we thought.
> We loaded up onto a boat, along with several
> other people and their pets. They confiscated my
> pepper spray and the two pocket knives we had. (They
> promised to give them back, but they never did. I'm
> not going to file a complaint.) They brought us to
> the same Coast Guard base that we were going to walk
> to, and loaded us onto trucks. Then they drove us to
> a small stretch of grass on the corner of Causeway and
> Veterans Blvd. in Metarie. We joined the several
> thousand other people who were waiting there.
> At first, we just sat and waited. There was
> plenty of water and MREs, so we were content for a
> while. Then, we started to wonder how long we would
> be here. It was as if we had jumped from the frying
> pan into the fire. This place was absolutely filthy,
> and we kept being bombarded with garbage every time a
> helicopter took off or landed with more people.
> Ricky walked around and spoke with other people,
> to feel out the situation. He's a very street smart
> kind of guy. He came back feeling more comfortable,
> but with little information. Everyone else was just
> waiting, too. No one knew what was going on or when
> we would be leaving.
> I walked over to a sheriff and asked him what we
> should do. He said to just sit and wait. We would be
> put on a bus, but he didn't know when. We sat and
> waited. We spent the night there, in that field of
> trash. It was freezing cold by dawn, and we were
> soaked through by the dew. (I lost my voice for
> several days.) Just before the sun rose, about a
> dozen buses came through, loaded up, and left. There
> were not enough of them.
> Faustus was yowling in his carrier. He had
> soiled it and was tired of being cooped up with his
> own filth. I took him out and tried to clean it. He
> clawed and bit me, and managed to wrench himself free
> of my grasp. He bolted. I chased him to the fence by
> the Galleria, but he slipped through, and away from
> me. I walked back, hoping he would return. He
> didn't.
> We got up, we ate, and we started to build
> ourselves a shelter out of the cots that were laying
> about everywhere. We stacked them, tieing them with
> whatever we could find. We got to be pretty
> comfortable. I would, from time to time, look and
> call for my runaway cat, but I never found him. I
> gave up.
> I spoke with another sheriff, who told us that we
> would be put on buses, but that there were no pets
> allowed. He said that the humane society had been
> there the day before to take pets, but that they were
> gone and wouldn't be back. He told me that I would
> have to let my dog go. I explained to him the
> impossibility of that, but he said I would have to. I
> walked back to the group with no intention of leaving
> Tanuki.
> We waited with our pets until we were the last
> ones there. Two sheriffs said that we had to get on
> the bus. I said that I wasn't going anywhere without
> Tanuki. They replied that they would arrest us and
> force us onto the bus, and let our dogs go themselves.
> I told them to go right ahead.
> I started crying then. I couldn't leave my baby.
> They would have to arrest me. What would I do?
> Luckily, a man walked up just then. It was the state
> treasurer, Mr. Kennedy. He asked me what the problem
> was. I explained the situation to him, crying still.
> He said that we would not have to leave our dogs.
> "I'm a dog person myself. I have two dogs and I
> would never leave them behind. They're like my kids."
> He said that he would make an announcement on the
> news station and get the SPCA back down there. (The
> cell phones weren't really working, so he couldn't
> call them.) He only asked that I make sure that
> another dog, whose owner had tied him up under the
> overpass, was rescued. I agreed, wholeheartedly.
> While I was talking to Mr. Kennedy, Ricky and
> Julie had started talking to a soldier named Ray. He
> had offered to take Ricky to his dad's house in
> Metairie. Ricky wanted to leave Chewy there, not
> trusting the Humane Society or SPCA to come back, or
> take care of him if they did. He was afraid that
> Chewy might be considered a bite case, and put down.
> They left, and Julie and I waited with our dogs.
> They made it back before the SPCA did. Ricky
> said that Ray was willing to take him to the
> Convention Center and wanted to leave with him. He
> said that he would meet up with Julie and me later. I
> had, by this time, grown very attached to him. I
> didn't want our group to split up. He promised that
> he would meet us, though, and left his bag with us.
> He just had to see what the rest of the city was like.
> He left, and Julie and I waited for the SPCA.
> They finally arrived, and we got all of the dogs
> together, including several more that had been left
> with us by people getting on buses. While we stood
> with them, a man and a woman approached us. They told
> us that they had a bus. They asked us to go with them
> to a shelter in Clinton, LA. They said it would be
> better than going to Houston with everyone else. I
> was very suspicious.
> "Who runs this shelter?" I asked. "Who are you?
> Why should we go with you instead of getting on the
> other buses?"
> They said that the shelter was run by a church,
> and that the woman was an elected official, and the
> man was her husband.
> "A church? You're not trying to convert me, are
> you?" Great. They must be cult members, or
> something, preying on desperate people fleeing New
> Orleans.
> They swore that they would not try to convert me.
> Julie and I went with them. Leaving Tanuki there,
> after everything was very difficult. I started
> crying. The woman asked if that was my dog. I told
> her it was.
> She said, "well, go back and get him. You can
> bring him with you. One dog should be okay."
> I raced back to him. That was one of the best
> moments of my life, being able to go back and get
> Tanuki. I didn't want to leave him with the SPCA. I
> untied his leash and ran back to the bus with him,
> still crying, but this time from sheer joy. I came
> very close to getting hit by a truck with him as I ran
> back, not paying attention to anything else, but hey,
> I had my dog with me.
> It ended up that the woman was on the school
> board. She was Una Anderson, and her husband was
> David. I recognized her from the news, after I
> stopped to think about it. They took us to the
> shelter in Clinton, where we had a hot meal and were
> given clothes. I even got a Tetanus shot, woohoo!
> Dave and Una invited Julie and me to go back with
> them. They said we could stay at their house in
> Covington. They said that Ricky could come, too. We
> wouldn't have to stay in the shelter.
> They took us with them to Una's mother's house
> for dinner. Julie and I got hot showers and cold
> beers. Heaven! We spent time with their family,
> eating and watching the news. I hadn't seen the news
> since before the hurricane, almost a week before. I
> was shocked, horrified at the destruction of the rest
> of my city. I had thought that I had it bad, but
> others had it much worse. Thousands were dead and
> dying. Entire neighborhoods had been inundated by the
> flood water. I started to really feel grateful for
> what I had, rather than continuing to dwell on what I
> had lost.
> I spent three nights at the Anderson's house. We
> had a great time there. Dave and Una, far from being
> the crazy cult members I had feared, were pretty nice
> people. But I couldn't stay and mooch. I felt that I
> should join the effort to help others who were trying
> to leave New Orleans. So, I went to Baton Rouge to
> volunteer at B'nai Israel Synagogue. The Rabbi there,
> Barry Weinstein, took me into his home. He invited me
> to stay with his family over the phone, before he had
> even met me. Again, I was crying. I stayed with them
> for a week.
> Mrs. Weinstein took me to get a hepatitis shot,
> and to buy clothes on the second day I was with them.
> As we were about to go back to the shelter, to do some
> more work, we got news. The congregation had put
> Rabbi on administrative leave. They had taken his
> keys and banned him from services. He was all but
> fired. And why? They didn't approve of him opening
> up the synagogue as a shelter, and having poor black
> people stay there. They were racist and classist, and
> they weren't having anymore of the Rabbi's charity in
> their temple.
> Rabbi hadn't slept for days, working to help
> evacuees from New Orleans. He had put his heart and
> soul into this work, and his congregation slapped him
> in the face. It was one of the crappiest things I had
> ever heard of.
> Rabbi and his wife, Linda, decided to put their
> house up for sale. I spent the rest of that week
> helping them pack. I was befriended by their
> daughter, Amy. She was really nice to me, and we
> spent a lot of time together.
> Finally, I got in touch with my mother. I had
> gotten the number of her hotel room from an e-mail she
> had sent me, and called while I was still in
> Covington. But then, she left the hotel, and I hadn't
> heard from her since. Well, we got in touch and she
> told me that she was in Alabama. I decided to take a
> Greyhound and meet her.
> Rabbi and his family asked me to stay. They
> invited me to stay for a year, if I wanted. They were
> so wonderful, but I needed to see my parents and
> brothers. Rabbi drove me to the bus station on Sunday
> morning. After a tearful goodbye, I was on my way.
> He gave me an envelope, with a letter, a prayer book,
> and some cash. He had kept trying to give me money,
> and I kept refusing it, but he finally managed to
> sneak it to me.
> It was a three hour ride to Mobile, and I slept
> for most of it. When I got there, my mom was waiting
> for me. I almost knocked her down when I rushed into
> her open arms. No matter how self-sufficient and
> independent I ever am, it will always be nice to come
> home to my mom.
> Well, that's pretty much the end of the story.
> It's not completely over, of course, since I am still
> homeless, car-less, and jobless, but I'm really just
> tired of writing. Thanks for reading.
>
> Love, Dana Eileen Taggart
>
> So, I figured that I would finally write down my
> story, since all of my friends keep asking me what
> happened. You don't have to read it, since it's kind
> of long, but here it is:
>
> On Saturday night, I went to work as usual. I
> had heard something about a hurricane on the news, but
> they ALWAYS tell you to evacuate, and it's always a
> big waste of time and money, so I had no intention of
> going anywhere. I planned on drinking with my
> friends, as is traditional in New Orleans during a
> hurricane.
> The bartender at Cafe Beignet that night was
> Barbara, my friend Andrea's mom. Andrea was the
> m.o.d. that evening. Andrea and I agreed that
> evacuating would be ridiculous, but Barbara was very
> freaked out about Katrina. She thought that we should
> caravan and get out of town. We talked about going to
> Houston, and hitting Astroworld while we were at it,
> but I still had no intention of actually leaving.
> Andrea decided to come over to my house with her
> boyfriend for the hurricane, and we would drink and
> play board games, and watch the storm. We would have
> a great hurricane party.
> After work, Andrea and I went out for a couple of
> drinks and ate at Angeli's. The service was kind of
> slow because the employees were busy boarding up the
> windows. I dropped her off at her house on Esplanade,
> planning to pick her up sometime the next day. I then
> went home and crashed.
> I woke up at around noon or one on Sunday. I
> called Andrea to see if she wanted to go eat sushi
> before coming over, but she had evacuated after all.
> Her mom had nagged her into it, and she was really
> annoyed. I thought then about hitting the road
> myself, since I would have no one to hang out with
> here.
> I only had a quarter of a tank of gas, and my car
> stalls when it's going very slow, so I didn't think I
> would get far. The news said that traffic was
> seriously backed up. I called my roommate to see
> where he was, and he was downtown, doing laundry. He
> said that the gas stations by the house were closed
> and out of gas. Unable to fill up the tank, I didn't
> see the point of leaving. I would just hang out with
> him.
> I talked to my mom a couple of times that
> afternoon, and knew that she was going to Little Rock
> with Bob and the kids. I told her "good luck", but I
> was staying. "I'll talk to you tomorrow," I said.
> Greg and I had stocked up on food and water, I
> washed and filled the tub, and I filled the fridge and
> freezer with bags of ice. I expected the power to go
> out, and I didn't want my stuff to go bad. I had just
> spent a fortune at Whole Foods, buying groceries.
> We watched movies and the news until the power
> went out. A tree branch fell onto the line on the
> corner, and it was touching the intersecting line, and
> caused the transformer to blow. The explosion sounded
> huge, but nothing caught on fire. We were
> unconcerned. Greg and I stayed up and played Monopoly
> by candlelight. We passed go, collected $200, and did
> shots. It was fun; I kicked Greg's ass. I ended up
> owning everything and Greg went bankrupt. It was a
> good game. I went to bed in a good mood.
> I woke up several times that night. The wind was
> really, really blowing, and the neighbor had left his
> car alarm on, so it KEPT GOING OFF. I thought about
> going over there with a baseball bat, but I restrained
> myself. Bits of my neighbors tin roof flew off, but
> nothing crashed into my house. I started getting a
> bit nervous, but I knew that it would be over soon. I
> finally fell asleep.
> I woke up at around 7:30 and looked out the
> window. There was a bit of water in the street, but
> since I had moved my car up onto the lawn, I was not
> worried. I saw a lot of trees down, and parts of roof
> in the street. I went back to bed.
> At around 10 or 10:30, Greg knocked on my door
> and woke me up. He said that I should look out the
> window. I got up, annoyed, and went to the living
> room. The board we nailed over one of the picture
> windows had blown off, so I had a good view. The
> water was almost to my porch. My car had water in it.
> My neighborhood was now a lake.
> We rushed around grabbing stuff. We each packed
> a backpack, and I got the cat carrier put together.
> We put jugs of water, canned food, and dog and cat
> food on our upstairs neighbor's back porch, just in
> case.
> I packed my birth certificate, my high school and
> college diplomas, my passport. I packed the camera
> that my parents had given me for Christmas and an
> extra roll of film. I picked up the book that I was
> currently reading, A Confederacy of Dunces (I couldn't
> leave it behind, unfinished). I took my wallet and
> all the money I had. I grabbed a couple of changes of
> clothes, my travel toothbrush and toothpaste. I took
> tooth floss. I had solid shampoo and conditioner and
> soap from Lush, so I packed these, also. I grabbed
> band-aids, aspirin, and other first-aid supplies. I
> also packed a flashlight, my discman/radio, and extra
> batteries. I had been a Girl Scout for many years,
> and I took the kind of things that I used to bring
> with me to camp. I thought about dumping my jewelry
> into my bag, but it was already very heavy, and I
> figured that I could always come back and get it.
> I checked the water again, and it was almost to
> the door. I tried to move my stuff higher. I moved
> the books that were on bottom shelves onto counters.
> I put my DVDs on the table. I threw my shoes onto the
> sofa. I had a teddy bear that my mom gave me on my
> first birthday and a rabbit she gave me for my third
> Easter--I put them on a table in my bedroom.
> The water was about to come in, so we climbed
> onto the roof of the shed and then onto the upstairs
> porch. It was only about two feet, square. I grabbed
> a blanket and an umbrella to cover us. We huddled
> there, me, Greg, Tanuki (my dog), and Faustus (my
> cat). The rain and the wind made us miserable. (One
> good note--the water finally got high enough to get to
> my neighbor's damned car alarm, and it stopped going
> the fuck off!)
> The flood continued to rise, so I kept going back
> into the apartment to move stuff higher. I had to go
> through the back bedroom window, since I couldn't get
> to the back door anymore--the water was too high.
> I put my photo albums on a high shelf in the
> closet, as well as my Harry Potter books. One of my
> albums was already ruined, because I had left it on my
> desk, and the water had reached it. I hadn't finished
> putting the photos in it that I took when I was in
> Florence and Rome. They were all just crammed inside,
> now destroyed.
> It was too late for the books in my room, too. I
> had just bought Jon Stewart's America, and it was on
> the floor by my bed. I had stacks of other books,
> that were also now under water. Gray's Anatomy, my
> Marvin Harris books, Wicked, my World Atlas of
> Archeology, and so many others--these were all gone.
> (I guess you can tell what kind of person I am, that I
> am grieving so much for my books.)
> Finally, I had to get out, because I was tripping
> on things that were being moved about by the filthy,
> black water. I couldn't see anything through that
> water. I had to give up.
> I climbed back onto the porch. We didn't know
> what we were going to do. We were cramped and
> miserable, exposed to the elements. The umbrella had
> long since broken, and the blanket was soaked through
> and useless in the wind.
> We noticed that our next-door neighbor had a much
> larger, covered porch. How would we get there? We
> could swim, but I was unwilling to let my few
> possessions left get wet. I also didn't think that I
> could swim with the cat carrier. Then I remembered!
> My mom had lent Greg her queen sized air mattress to
> sleep on, since he didn't have a bed. We could
> inflate it and use it as a raft. It had a leak, but
> maybe it would get us across to the next house.
> I walked down the back steps to the window. I
> opened it, and many of my already floating possessions
> were swept outside(my Greek text books, my globe, my
> Indiana Jones fedora). I climbed in to the now
> chest-deep water and got the deflated mattress off of
> the desk it was folded up on. I pulled it back to the
> porch and went to work blowing it up. Greg took one
> useless turn. He is a heavy smoker, and so had no
> lung capacity. He mostly just spit all over the
> valve. I ended up inflating it by myself. We loaded
> the cat and our stuff onto it and swam next door,
> pushing the mattress.
> Tanuki was unhappy about the situation, but he
> swam with Greg and got to the porch, while I brought
> the mattress. We brought our stuff up and settled in,
> much more comfortable (relatively speaking)than we had
> been.
> At one point, I heard a man screaming for help.
> I could tell that it was coming from Robert E. Lee
> Blvd., on the other side of my apartment. I yelled
> back to the man, but he was too panicked to respond.
> He just kept screaming for help. I couldn't just sit
> there. I swam back to my apt., and climbed onto the
> shed. Robert E. Lee was like a river. The water was
> rushing down the street at an unbelievable rate. I
> had been whitewater rafting before, and it reminded me
> of that. I climbed over the top of my fence and got
> into the water. Clinging to the insect covered
> boards, I made my way down the length of the yard,
> still yelling to the man. Then I saw him. He was a
> 30-35ish man, clinging to a pathetically small branch.
> He was being swept down the street. I guess he had
> been in a tree, and the branch broke, because he had
> been screaming for a few minutes. I tried to swim out
> to him, but I had to turn back because the current was
> so strong. I couldn't get to him. I watched him go
> under, farther down the street. I guess he drowned.
> I could do nothing. I couldn't even cry at that
> point. I was emotionally exhausted. I made my way
> back to the neighbor's porch. I didn't even tell Greg
> that the man had been pulled under. I just said that
> I couldn't get to him.
> We spent most of the evening being bitten by
> mosquitoes and trying to flag the Coast Guard
> helicopters we saw flying overhead. We saw them
> rescue a few of our neighbors from their roofs, but
> they didn't come for us. I got through to 911 on my
> cell phone three times, but still no one came. I
> listened to the radio on my discman, hoping for news
> of a rescue. Kathy Blanco said that there would be
> thousands of boats sent out at dawn to go through the
> neighborhoods and rescue people. We could wait for a
> morning rescue. We would be okay.
> We kept trying to signal the helicopters all
> night, anyway. Both of us had brought flashlights, so
> I S.O.S.ed them in Morse code (all that I remembered
> from scouting). They didn't stop. At one point a
> helicopter had its spotlight directly on us, and we
> jumped and waved and shouted. It moved on.
> We heard someone else crying for help. It was an
> old lady. I yelled back, "where are you?" She didn't
> answer. I don't think she could hear me. I thought
> it was coming from a house behind us on the block. I
> tried to swim over there, in the dark. The trees in
> the back yard blocked my way. I couldn't get through
> them. Some had fallen over, and there was no way to
> get across. One more person I couldn't save. I swam
> back to the porch, feeling utterly helpless.
> A little while later, we heard a couple of guys
> in a boat. They went down the street behind us. They
> rescued the old lady and another old man next door to
> her. We shouted to them, but they didn't come back
> for us. It was okay; at least the old lady was safe.
> We finally went to sleep.
> I woke up right at dawn, anxious to be rescued by
> one of the boats the governor had promised. I knew
> that I'd see them any minute. We packed up our stuff
> and waited to be saved.
> After several hours, we saw a boat. It was a
> couple and their young daughter, paddling down Robt.
> E. Lee. "Hey, have you seen any rescue boats," I
> called to them.
> "There are a couple, I think," the lady shouted
> back. "If we see one, we'll tell them you're here."
> Finally, we would be saved. A few more hours,
> and still, no one had come. We had seen a couple more
> small boats go by, paddled by neighbors, but they were
> too small for all of us. A couple of people told us
> that the firemen were out in boats and that they were
> taking people to the UNO dorms. They would tell
> someone we were here. Time went by. No rescuers,
> yet.
> At last, we saw a boat with some firemen. "Hey,
> we're here, we need rescue," I shouted.
> "Can you get to your roof?"
> "No, but we can swim back to the roof of the
> shed. We have two adults, a dog, and a cat in a
> carrier," I replied.
> "We can't take the pets, just you."
> "I'm not leaving my pets."
> "Well, good luck, then," he said as he left.
> Great. So we would not be rescued. I supposed
> that we would just have to rescue ourselves.
> I wasn't sure that the mattress would make it all
> the way to the dorms, with the leak. I had
> re-inflated it the night before for us to sleep on,
> and it was flat by morning. I inflated it again, and
> tried to come up with a solution. While I thought, I
> looked around the porch. Some shelves, a dryer, a
> broom, and...DUCT TAPE!!! Perfect! I patched the
> hole with many, many layers, and loaded up the
> mattress for another trip.
> At first, I swam, pushing and pulling the
> mattress, while Greg swam with Tanuki. Unfortunately,
> both of them tired quickly. We got Tanuki onto the
> mattress and Greg held him down and held on, as well.
> I had to swim a couple of blocks down before I found a
> street that wasn't totally blocked by trees and downed
> power lines. Tanuki wouldn't stay on the mattress, so
> Greg and he got off, and Greg held the dog and grabbed
> a log and kicked along behind me. We made it to Ben
> Franklin high school and stopped so Greg could take a
> break. (He was really out of shape.) We then swam
> the rest of the way to the dorms, finally getting to a
> parking lot that was shallow enough to wade in, and
> Tanuki could be held down on the mattress.
> As we approached the back entrance, a head stuck
> out of a window. "Do you guys need shelter?" the man
> asked.
> "Yes, we definitely do," I replied.
> "Well, come on in through the back and up the
> stairs. The first floor is flooded."
> I thanked him and we waded in. We had to carry
> our stuff through the doorway, since the mattress
> couldn't fit floating. We pulled it along with us and
> left it drifting in the lobby with the other boats as
> we made our way up the pitch black stairwell. Using
> our flashlights, we made our way up. There was no one
> on the second floor, and the third floor was also
> deserted. On the fourth floor, we met a man.
> "Do you guys need a room?"
> I told him that we did, and he led us down the
> hall. There were several other people in busted open
> dorm rooms, even a family with a baby, and a few dogs.
> The man led us to a door and let us in.
> "Here you go."
> "Thank you so much," I told him, truly being more
> thankful for the sight of a bed than I had ever been
> in my whole life. There were two beds, and we hit
> them hard. I think it was the best nap I have ever
> had.
> Before we slept, though, Gregory and I talked
> about our current situation. I thought that we had
> come to a pretty good place, and should stay here
> until we were rescued. He thought we should move on
> after our naps. I told him that I didn't think we
> could get far with the mattress, and he replied that
> we should steal one of the two boats that were
> floating in the lobby. I thought this idea was
> repugnant, and I flat-out refused. I was not about to
> steal someone else's boat and leave them stranded. I
> told him that if he did it, I would not be going with
> him. He backed down, and we went to sleep.
> A few hours later, when I woke up, I went out
> into the hall to meet the other people and find out
> what I could about our situation. There were several
> people with whom I spoke, and none of them really knew
> any more than I did. No one knew how long we would be
> there, but everyone agreed that it was way better than
> being stuck on a roof somewhere.
> I met Julie, who was a neighbor whom I had never
> met. A man named Ricky (who lived next door to her)
> had rescued her and four of her dogs in a boat and
> brought her here. (Ricky was out, scavenging for food
> and water, so I met him later.) Julie had brought
> only her dogs, the cremated remains another of her
> dogs, and her St. Jude statue (how appropriate--St.
> Jude is the patron saint of lost causes). She hadn't
> even brought a change of clothes.
> Several other people had been brought to the
> dorms by Ricky, as well, including the old lady I
> heard calling for help. She couldn't swim and was
> stuck in her house, with the water at her chin when
> she was rescued.
> A little while later, I met Ricky. I could tell
> as soon as he opened his mouth that he was from the
> 9th ward. His dialect was unmistakable. He was nice,
> though loud and outspoken. He was just a couple of
> years older than me. Ricky had taken the boat out,
> and had just returned. He had brought back food,
> water, and beer (a hurricane necessity)from his
> outing. I didn't want to live off of other people, so
> I offered to go with him on another trip in the
> morning.
> At this time I also met Cody. He was the guy who
> saw us from the window outside of the dorms. He was
> actually a student and lived in the dorms, on the 6th
> floor. His story was particularly bizarre.
> Cody had just celebrated his birthday. He had
> gone out all night with his friends and drank until he
> passed out. He wasn't even sure how he had made it
> back to his room. The next day, he was not only
> hungover, he was still drunk. He had only a small
> awareness of people rushing around the dorms, telling
> him to get up, to hurry up. He slept all that day.
> The next day, when he finally woke up, everyone was
> gone. They had evacuated the dorms without him. He
> had been left behind, alone, to face the hurricane.
> He was very glad to see other people when they showed
> up, looking for shelter.
> That night a small group of us hung out, eating
> and drinking and talking, and watching the stars for
> the first time over the city of New Orleans. Ricky
> and I leaned out the window of a dorm room, drinking
> our beers. Neither of us had ever imagined such a
> sight. The sky was mirrored in the now placid lake
> surrounding the dorms. Here and there the tops of
> trees and houses stuck out. There was a street sign,
> saying Leon C. Simon, but the street was nowhere to be
> found, laying deep below the murky water. I had a
> great time. I wouldn't mind having to spend a few
> days there before being rescued.
> After a VERY good night's sleep, Ricky and I took
> the boat out. Another thing I had learned in Girl
> Scouts was canoeing, which definitely proved useful.
> We paddled down St. Anthony to Robert E. Lee. On the
> way, we stopped by a house I had seen the day before.
> There was a boat, and I thought we might be able to
> use it to escape, if we needed to. We got closer to
> check it out. We pulled up alongside of it, and Ricky
> lifted the tarp that was covering it. There, right
> under the tarp, was a pile of guns. An AK-47, an Uzi,
> a 9mm., and a pellet gun. What the fuck. Using his
> shirt, Ricky picked them up to see if they were real.
> They were. We decided to get the hell out of there.
> We continued on our way to Elysian Fields, leaving the
> guns where we found them.
> On the way, we passed my house. Only the top of my
> front door was visible. It was depressing. We then
> paddled to Walgreens. The glass in the windows near
> the ceiling had been broken, and we could see food,
> drinks, diapers, toilet paper, etc. floating at the
> top. There was an older man in an inflatable raft
> inside, coming out. He told us that he was a
> methadone patient and he was looking for some kind of
> medication, but that it was all locked up. I was a
> bit nervous, but he paddled out and away from us,
> without incident. We tried to get our boat in to
> paddle around, but it wouldn't fit. We decided to
> come back later with a smaller boat which Ricky had
> found the day before. We still grabbed anything
> within reach that might be useful. Bottled water was
> our main objective, but we couldn't see much of it
> near the window. There were lots of cigarettes,
> though, so we grabbed them for the smokers in the
> dorms.
> Next, we headed for the gas station across the
> street. Its windows were also broken, but we would
> have to get in the water to get anything. We decided
> to wait until we came back. Again, we grabbed what we
> could that was within reach.
> As we paddled back, I was still amazed at the
> sight of my entire neighborhood under water. It was
> just eerie. I became lost in my thoughts, but was
> pulled out by another shock. The back of a man's
> head, back, shoulders, legs--floating. He had
> drowned, I supposed. I said nothing to Ricky. I
> didn't want him to see it, too. I don't think he
> noticed it. We paddled on to the dorms.
> We pulled into the lobby and unloaded everything
> we had gotten. We decided to take a break before
> going again. A couple of hours later, we took the
> boat back out, this time towing the smaller boat
> (which leaked), and also with Gregory and Cody. We
> dropped a father and his daughter off at their house
> (they lived on the second floor) so they could get
> some of their things. Then we headed back to
> Walgreens.
> On the way we ran into other boats of people.
> One fireman asked where we were going. I said "to
> Walgreens". He replied, "Walgreens is closed."
> "Not to us," Ricky replied under his breath.
> I just told the guy "okay" and "thanks." We
> continued on our way. Another fireman asked if we
> needed anything.
> "We could really use some water and food, if you
> want to drop some off at the dorms," I told him. He
> just laughed.
> At Walgreens, we pushed the small boat inside and
> climbed into it. Ricky and I took the paddles and
> scavenged around, while Greg and Cody waited in the
> larger boat outside. We filled the boat with useful
> items. Hand sanitizer, vitamins, water, packaged
> food, diapers for the two babies, sunscreen, tampax,
> aloe, band-aids--we grabbed anything that could
> possibly be useful, leaving behind unnecessary items.
> We weren't looters, after all; we were just trying to
> survive.
> We struggled to get the laden boat back out, but
> we eventually succeeded. We then made our way to the
> gas station. There, we had to get in the water. The
> boat couldn't fit in the window. Ricky dove in first,
> then Cody, and then myself. As was typical, Greg
> stayed in the boat and waited, doing as little work as
> possible. We got tons of bottled water and juice from
> there. We also helped ourselves to more beer. (They
> couldn't really sell it after this, could they?) We
> relayed stuff to the boat. Ricky went in the coolers
> and tossed the bottles and cans out. Cody and I
> grabbed the floating supplies and brought them to the
> boat. Greg fished them out of the water and tossed
> them in.
> Unfortunately, there was something else in that
> water with us. Probably a gar-fish, it was large and
> creepy. The water was too black with sewerage and
> other filth to actually see anything. We kept feeling
> it hit our legs. We finally decided to get the hell
> out of there, before it bit one of us.
> We slowly, ponderously, made our way back to the
> dorms again. Ricky would go back to pick up the
> father and daughter later. We were exhausted. Other
> people staying in the dorms helped us unload the
> boats. We made several trips up the stairs. Greg
> brought a load up and dropped it off in our room,
> along with his back pack, which contained some of his
> personal items.
> We went back for more stuff from the boat and
> back up the stairs. As Greg returned to the room, he
> saw three people emerge from our room. Two young boys
> and a woman (about 19ish) were coming out into the
> hallway. When he asked what they were doing, they
> ran. He went back into the room and saw that the bag
> was unzipped and there were items missing from it. He
> started shouting.
> He told the rest of us that the kids had taken
> his wallet. We cornered them, and the girl was, in
> fact, holding his flashlight. I grabbed it from her.
> They denied having anything else. It ended up that
> the wallet was still in the bag, but they took the
> flashlight and a pack of cigarettes. They probably
> just hadn't found the wallet yet, since it was in
> another compartment and Greg had surprised them.
> I was furious, anyway. What kind of people would
> steal from us when we were out, diving into raw
> sewerage to obtain food and water for them? We were
> trying to help them, and they took even more. That
> was when I realized that there would be more of this
> sort of thing during the hurricane aftermath.
> Some firemen had originally given Ricky an axe
> and told him to break into dorm rooms so people would
> have a place to stay. They dropped off several people
> in addition to the ones he had rescued. We were all
> aware of the fact that these were other people's
> rooms, and tried to be respectful. I didn't take
> anything but food, water, and a change of clothes. (I
> didn't even take nice clothes, but raggedy old jeans
> and a wifebeater.) My clothes were soaked in
> floodwater, and I couldn't wear them. Most of the
> others did the same. These kids who had come into our
> room were another story, though. They trashed the
> room they were in, moved to another room, and trashed
> it, as well. They found an X-Box, and stole it.
> Where were they going to play it, I wondered. I
> realized that there were some people who were going to
> take advantage of the situation, and weren't really of
> the "live and let live" mentality. There was nothing
> we could do about them, though, so we just went about
> our business and kept an eye on each others rooms.
> I took a quick shower with some of the bottled
> water we had found, and settled down for a nap. Just
> then, I heard shouting.
> "Is anybody here?" A man's voice came from the
> stairwell. "Anybody who is still here needs to come
> to the main campus right now. We are airlifting you
> out in five minutes."
> I considered not even responding. We had been
> listening to the radio, and knew what was going on in
> the Superdome. We were afraid they would take us
> there. I personally would rather wait it out in the
> dorms, with good people, that be thrown to the wolves
> in the Superdome.
> Ricky came into the room and asked Greg and I,
> "what do you want to do?"
> We discussed it for a few minutes before deciding
> to go. We didn't want to be left behind. We figured
> we could stay there for a week, maybe, but no longer.
> We didn't want to run out of food or water, or be
> forgotten. We repacked our stuff and headed down the
> stairs.
> The man who had called to us was another fireman.
> He told us that there was another hurricane about to
> hit the city, and that New Orleans would be completely
> submerged this time. He said that the entire city was
> being evacuated, and that they were getting us out of
> there tonight, in just a few minutes, by helicopter.
> This time, no one would be left behind. Anyone who
> was left would die.
> We asked if we could bring our pets. We would
> not go without them. We wanted to get out of the
> city, but we couldn't abandon them. We had to take
> them with us. He said we could. So, we followed him
> out to the main campus.
> There were thousands of other people, in lines,
> waiting. Helicopters were setting down, loading up
> with 12-15 people, and lifting off again, quickly.
> Maybe they would get us all out that night. We sat
> down to wait.
> After a few minutes, the fireman came back. He
> had made a mistake, he said. The pets would not be
> allowed.
> I told him that I would stay with my dog and cat.
> I would not leave them, no matter what. He told me
> that it was my choice, but that I would be left
> behind.
> "Fine with me," I said.
> Ricky's friend Bobby went to the line. So did
> Cody. Ricky, Greg, Julie, and I were left. Julie
> still had four of her dogs, and she wouldn't leave
> them. She had been forced to leave four dogs in her
> apartment to die, and she wouldn't abandon these. An
> old man with a toy poodle he had for eleven years left
> her by us, just assuming one of us would take her. He
> was unwilling to stay with her. Julie now had five
> dogs.
> The only time I ever saw Ricky cry was now. He
> was a tough guy, but he truly loved his 8 month old
> pit bull, Chewy. Chewy was a sweet, affectionate
> puppy who had been rescued from a life of dog fights
> by Ricky. He had actually stolen him from a man who
> intended to fight the dog. He couldn't leave Chewy,
> but he couldn't stay behind, either. He decided to
> leave Chewy in a classroom, and try to come back for
> him. When Ricky came back, alone, it looked like a
> piece of him was missing. He got into the line. I
> stayed with Greg and Julie and our pets.
> We figured that if we waited until last, they
> might let us on with our dogs (and cat). It was worth
> a try. Someone had to go last anyway, it might as
> well be us. There was no other way.
> It started to grow dark, and the helicopters
> slowed. They finally stopped coming at 8 p.m. There
> would be no more until 8 a.m. the next day. There
> were still thousands of people on campus, with more
> ariving every minute. We would have to find a place
> to sleep for the night.
> I wanted to go back to the dorms. It had at
> least been comfortable there, and there was only open
> sky on campus. We could find a classroom and sleep on
> a hard floor, but that would be hot and miserable. We
> decided to try to go back. Ricky (with Chewy), Julie
> and her five dogs, Greg, and I (with Tanuki and
> Faustus) made our way back through the water. Someone
> followed us, though. We didn't know who it was, and
> they wouldn't respond when we called to them. There
> were two flashlights, though, so there were at least
> two people. I thought it might be campus security,
> but we weren't sure.
> I thought that we should proceed to the dorms,
> but the others were nervous about the situation, so we
> turned back. At this point, I got a little annoyed.
> It had taken us a while to decide to go back to the
> dorms, and now everyone was being wishy-washy. I felt
> like the others were being paranoid, and I was mad at
> Greg for just following along with Ricky, rather than
> making a decision for himself. He just kept agreeing
> with whatever Ricky said. Julie did that, too, but I
> understood that she was afraid and in a strange
> situation, so she just went along with everyone else
> to be agreeable. Greg, on the other hand, was a
> Marine at one time, and had seen combat. I expected
> some strength of character from him. In that, I was
> disappointed. He proved to be completely spineless.
> On the way back to campus, we got into an
> arguement about it. He became quite obnoxious, and I
> admit I was yelling a lot. When the others (who had
> joined the line)walked back to us at the picnic table
> at which we had stopped, he APOLOGIZED for my
> behavior. I told him to go fuck himself, and went to
> a classroom to sleep with just my dog and cat.
> It was a nervous and uncomfortable night. I
> slept on the hard floor of the classroom and kept the
> windows closed to keep the mosquitos out. It was
> unbelievably hot. There was no way to lock the door,
> so someone could walk in at any time. I slept
> lightly, clutching my flashlight (it was a heavy metal
> Mag-light, so could be used for a weapon in a pinch).
> Ricky ended up coming to sleep in the classroom and
> cuddled up near the back with an Argentinian girl who
> was with us in the dorms. That was only an hour
> before dawn.
> As the sun came up, I got ready. I wanted to be
> packed up and outside when the helicopters came. I
> brought my bag and pets to the back of the line, sat,
> and waited. Eventually, Julie came to sit by me with
> her dogs. Soon, Ricky followed with Chewy. Both Greg
> and the Argentinian got into line at the front, away
> from us. I didn't speak to Gregory again.
> As 8:00 a.m. approached, the crowd grew restless.
> The sky was blessedly overcast, so it was a little
> cool. We waited and waited. The helicopters still
> hadn't come by 10. Word passed through the crowd that
> some people in another part of New Orleans had shot at
> a helicopter, so they weren't picking anyone else up.
> Another rumour was that they wouldn't fly when it was
> cloudy. (I guess that's why the war in Iraq is going
> so poorly. If you can't fly in the dark or when it's
> cloudy, how can you fight a war?)
> Finally, a helicopter came. Then another one.
> Then nothing for a while. Then another one. In all,
> fewer that 20 helicopters landed that day, and the
> number may have been closer to 10.
> We weren't too bad off, though. MREs were being
> given out, along with bottled water and sports drinks.
> They gave us apples and other snacks, too. We sat
> and hung out, talking to various people. People
> gossiped and told stories. We believed nothing we
> were told unless the person was wearing a badge. And
> not always then, since the police and firement were
> obviously not communicating, and none of them really
> knew anything.
> Ricky took Chewy for a swim in the pool at the
> gym; when he came back, Julie and I took our turn. We
> went with Tanuki and bathed and swam and had a pretty
> good time. We were nervous, of course. There had
> already been violent incidents on campus. The night
> before, a girl was raped in the new business building.
> There were fights. People were looting all over
> campus. The business building, the CRC, the
> bookstore, and the gym had all been looted. Someone
> even stole the yoga mat from the display case at the
> front. So, yes, we were definitely nervous.
> We swam without incident, and returned to our
> spot by the business building. Ricky had grown
> worried, since we had taken so long, but it was for
> nothing.
> When we got back, he was talking to two men.
> They were both very drunk, and were arguing about what
> kind of helicopter it was that was being used for the
> pick-ups. Both were ex-marines; the older man had
> retired, and the younger man had just served one term
> and gotten out. They asked Ricky who we were. He
> told them that Julie was his mother and that I was his
> girlfriend, so "hands off".
> They bickered for a while about nonsense and then
> left. Ricky told us that they had been talking about
> "looking for some pussy" and wanted to keep them the
> heck away from us. He ended up bringing them over to
> the dorms to spend the night there, so they wouldn't
> be around to bother us. He thought they might become
> violent as they continued to drink and look for women.
> His quick thinking probably saved us from a lot of
> trouble. Maybe from worse.
> As it grew dark once again, the helicopters
> stopped coming. A new rumor ran through the crowd; we
> were all supposed to walk to the private airfield in
> New Orleans East. There would be no more food or
> pick-ups on UNO's campus. We didn't believe it. I
> asked a fireman and he said it was nonsense. Still,
> hundreds of people went, dragging their bags and
> pillows behind them. Among them were Greg, Cody, and
> Bobby. I told them not to go, but they left anyway.
> We didn't see them again.
> Once again, we spent the night in that classroom.
> Julie slept with her five dogs. Ricky and I slept
> next to each other, on top of every article of
> clothing we owned, because the floor was so damned
> hard. I was very sunburned, so he offered to rub aloe
> on my back and neck. I accepted his offer, and it all
> went downhill from there. (Well, in a good way.)
> The next morning, we decided that we were not
> going to wait anymore. Why waste another day, sitting
> and doing nothing? We decided to walk along the levee
> to the Coast Guard base and try to get out from there.
> We didn't think they would turn us away. We ate our
> breakfast of MREs and loaded up a grocery cart with
> our stuff. As we made our way around campus and up
> the levee, we saw large helicopters landing on the
> field. They were those kinds with two rotary blades
> on top, instead of just one. I don't know what
> they're actually called, but they're big. I figured
> that if they were going to use those, they might
> actually pick everyone up today. We decided to go
> back. We waited only half an hour before heavily
> armed coasties came up over the levee. They started
> bringing people to the lake to put on boats. They
> said we could bring our pets. We were saved! Or so
> we thought.
> We loaded up onto a boat, along with several
> other people and their pets. They confiscated my
> pepper spray and the two pocket knives we had. (They
> promised to give them back, but they never did. I'm
> not going to file a complaint.) They brought us to
> the same Coast Guard base that we were going to walk
> to, and loaded us onto trucks. Then they drove us to
> a small stretch of grass on the corner of Causeway and
> Veterans Blvd. in Metarie. We joined the several
> thousand other people who were waiting there.
> At first, we just sat and waited. There was
> plenty of water and MREs, so we were content for a
> while. Then, we started to wonder how long we would
> be here. It was as if we had jumped from the frying
> pan into the fire. This place was absolutely filthy,
> and we kept being bombarded with garbage every time a
> helicopter took off or landed with more people.
> Ricky walked around and spoke with other people,
> to feel out the situation. He's a very street smart
> kind of guy. He came back feeling more comfortable,
> but with little information. Everyone else was just
> waiting, too. No one knew what was going on or when
> we would be leaving.
> I walked over to a sheriff and asked him what we
> should do. He said to just sit and wait. We would be
> put on a bus, but he didn't know when. We sat and
> waited. We spent the night there, in that field of
> trash. It was freezing cold by dawn, and we were
> soaked through by the dew. (I lost my voice for
> several days.) Just before the sun rose, about a
> dozen buses came through, loaded up, and left. There
> were not enough of them.
> Faustus was yowling in his carrier. He had
> soiled it and was tired of being cooped up with his
> own filth. I took him out and tried to clean it. He
> clawed and bit me, and managed to wrench himself free
> of my grasp. He bolted. I chased him to the fence by
> the Galleria, but he slipped through, and away from
> me. I walked back, hoping he would return. He
> didn't.
> We got up, we ate, and we started to build
> ourselves a shelter out of the cots that were laying
> about everywhere. We stacked them, tieing them with
> whatever we could find. We got to be pretty
> comfortable. I would, from time to time, look and
> call for my runaway cat, but I never found him. I
> gave up.
> I spoke with another sheriff, who told us that we
> would be put on buses, but that there were no pets
> allowed. He said that the humane society had been
> there the day before to take pets, but that they were
> gone and wouldn't be back. He told me that I would
> have to let my dog go. I explained to him the
> impossibility of that, but he said I would have to. I
> walked back to the group with no intention of leaving
> Tanuki.
> We waited with our pets until we were the last
> ones there. Two sheriffs said that we had to get on
> the bus. I said that I wasn't going anywhere without
> Tanuki. They replied that they would arrest us and
> force us onto the bus, and let our dogs go themselves.
> I told them to go right ahead.
> I started crying then. I couldn't leave my baby.
> They would have to arrest me. What would I do?
> Luckily, a man walked up just then. It was the state
> treasurer, Mr. Kennedy. He asked me what the problem
> was. I explained the situation to him, crying still.
> He said that we would not have to leave our dogs.
> "I'm a dog person myself. I have two dogs and I
> would never leave them behind. They're like my kids."
> He said that he would make an announcement on the
> news station and get the SPCA back down there. (The
> cell phones weren't really working, so he couldn't
> call them.) He only asked that I make sure that
> another dog, whose owner had tied him up under the
> overpass, was rescued. I agreed, wholeheartedly.
> While I was talking to Mr. Kennedy, Ricky and
> Julie had started talking to a soldier named Ray. He
> had offered to take Ricky to his dad's house in
> Metairie. Ricky wanted to leave Chewy there, not
> trusting the Humane Society or SPCA to come back, or
> take care of him if they did. He was afraid that
> Chewy might be considered a bite case, and put down.
> They left, and Julie and I waited with our dogs.
> They made it back before the SPCA did. Ricky
> said that Ray was willing to take him to the
> Convention Center and wanted to leave with him. He
> said that he would meet up with Julie and me later. I
> had, by this time, grown very attached to him. I
> didn't want our group to split up. He promised that
> he would meet us, though, and left his bag with us.
> He just had to see what the rest of the city was like.
> He left, and Julie and I waited for the SPCA.
> They finally arrived, and we got all of the dogs
> together, including several more that had been left
> with us by people getting on buses. While we stood
> with them, a man and a woman approached us. They told
> us that they had a bus. They asked us to go with them
> to a shelter in Clinton, LA. They said it would be
> better than going to Houston with everyone else. I
> was very suspicious.
> "Who runs this shelter?" I asked. "Who are you?
> Why should we go with you instead of getting on the
> other buses?"
> They said that the shelter was run by a church,
> and that the woman was an elected official, and the
> man was her husband.
> "A church? You're not trying to convert me, are
> you?" Great. They must be cult members, or
> something, preying on desperate people fleeing New
> Orleans.
> They swore that they would not try to convert me.
> Julie and I went with them. Leaving Tanuki there,
> after everything was very difficult. I started
> crying. The woman asked if that was my dog. I told
> her it was.
> She said, "well, go back and get him. You can
> bring him with you. One dog should be okay."
> I raced back to him. That was one of the best
> moments of my life, being able to go back and get
> Tanuki. I didn't want to leave him with the SPCA. I
> untied his leash and ran back to the bus with him,
> still crying, but this time from sheer joy. I came
> very close to getting hit by a truck with him as I ran
> back, not paying attention to anything else, but hey,
> I had my dog with me.
> It ended up that the woman was on the school
> board. She was Una Anderson, and her husband was
> David. I recognized her from the news, after I
> stopped to think about it. They took us to the
> shelter in Clinton, where we had a hot meal and were
> given clothes. I even got a Tetanus shot, woohoo!
> Dave and Una invited Julie and me to go back with
> them. They said we could stay at their house in
> Covington. They said that Ricky could come, too. We
> wouldn't have to stay in the shelter.
> They took us with them to Una's mother's house
> for dinner. Julie and I got hot showers and cold
> beers. Heaven! We spent time with their family,
> eating and watching the news. I hadn't seen the news
> since before the hurricane, almost a week before. I
> was shocked, horrified at the destruction of the rest
> of my city. I had thought that I had it bad, but
> others had it much worse. Thousands were dead and
> dying. Entire neighborhoods had been inundated by the
> flood water. I started to really feel grateful for
> what I had, rather than continuing to dwell on what I
> had lost.
> I spent three nights at the Anderson's house. We
> had a great time there. Dave and Una, far from being
> the crazy cult members I had feared, were pretty nice
> people. But I couldn't stay and mooch. I felt that I
> should join the effort to help others who were trying
> to leave New Orleans. So, I went to Baton Rouge to
> volunteer at B'nai Israel Synagogue. The Rabbi there,
> Barry Weinstein, took me into his home. He invited me
> to stay with his family over the phone, before he had
> even met me. Again, I was crying. I stayed with them
> for a week.
> Mrs. Weinstein took me to get a hepatitis shot,
> and to buy clothes on the second day I was with them.
> As we were about to go back to the shelter, to do some
> more work, we got news. The congregation had put
> Rabbi on administrative leave. They had taken his
> keys and banned him from services. He was all but
> fired. And why? They didn't approve of him opening
> up the synagogue as a shelter, and having poor black
> people stay there. They were racist and classist, and
> they weren't having anymore of the Rabbi's charity in
> their temple.
> Rabbi hadn't slept for days, working to help
> evacuees from New Orleans. He had put his heart and
> soul into this work, and his congregation slapped him
> in the face. It was one of the crappiest things I had
> ever heard of.
> Rabbi and his wife, Linda, decided to put their
> house up for sale. I spent the rest of that week
> helping them pack. I was befriended by their
> daughter, Amy. She was really nice to me, and we
> spent a lot of time together.
> Finally, I got in touch with my mother. I had
> gotten the number of her hotel room from an e-mail she
> had sent me, and called while I was still in
> Covington. But then, she left the hotel, and I hadn't
> heard from her since. Well, we got in touch and she
> told me that she was in Alabama. I decided to take a
> Greyhound and meet her.
> Rabbi and his family asked me to stay. They
> invited me to stay for a year, if I wanted. They were
> so wonderful, but I needed to see my parents and
> brothers. Rabbi drove me to the bus station on Sunday
> morning. After a tearful goodbye, I was on my way.
> He gave me an envelope, with a letter, a prayer book,
> and some cash. He had kept trying to give me money,
> and I kept refusing it, but he finally managed to
> sneak it to me.
> It was a three hour ride to Mobile, and I slept
> for most of it. When I got there, my mom was waiting
> for me. I almost knocked her down when I rushed into
> her open arms. No matter how self-sufficient and
> independent I ever am, it will always be nice to come
> home to my mom.
> Well, that's pretty much the end of the story.
> It's not completely over, of course, since I am still
> homeless, car-less, and jobless, but I'm really just
> tired of writing. Thanks for reading.
>
> Love, Dana Eileen Taggart
>