August 2008
Nothing can describe the feeling one has when passing over the industrial canal bridge on I-10 as you head into New Orleans. Perched atop the high and mighty bridge looking down upon the skyscrapers of Uptown, the mighty power lines, endless train tracks, and monstrous barges as they move their way threw the canal. The air is thick with humidity casting a haze over the entire city.
We arrived at about 8 o’clock in the morning on August 29th. This day was indeed a special one for the city. 3 years have past since hurricane Katrina lunged her deep nails into the back of New Orleans. Down at the Lower Ninth Ward, just north of Claiborne is ground zero here. Where 3 years ago sat nothing but piles of rubble, overturned houses, and vacant foundation, now a sign reads “Welcome home Lower 9th Ward Residents”. A few houses have been built here now. The owners sit resilient on the porch with a smile. Smiling with the pride of a southerner that has been able to rebuild everything that they once lost. At 9:00 the Jazz Funeral to commemorate those 1,836 lives lost in the city begins. The coach proceeds slowly down Tennessee St. with Mardi Gras Indians and former residents wearing there pain on there shoulder closely behind.
Sadly, the memorial services have a dark cloud lingering over them. Residents of the Gulf Coast had hoped this day would be a day of remembrance, but also a day to celebrate the rebuilding of their city. But very few have a smile, or even a positive outlook. For another storm is on the way.
On Saturday, everyone wakes up to the news that Gustav has become a category 4 storm just south of Cuba. At this point the news is 24/7 hurricane coverage. Any other Saturday afternoon in the garden district would be full of tourists going into each shop along the stretch of magazine street. People walking down the sidewalks of the corridor streets rich with vegetation. But this Saturday only a few people are out. And they are all wielding hammers and saws hoping they have a place of business to return too.
The french quarter is nearly empty. The remaining tourist stocking up on last minute souvenirs and drop a few dimes in the hats of the street performers one last time before the party ends. One performer, painted in bronze, dressed as a baseball trophy stands motionless, in perfect formation watching national guardsmen and police officers take position. Up on the banks of the Mississippi, overlooking the crescent the city takes its name for, only a few homeless people sit. Taking up the last bit of beautiful scenery before it very well could be taken away forever.
On canal street, one man stumbles and staggers down the street. Drunk to his wits, holding a can of Old English.
In his deep gravely southern accent he says.
“Gustav, Fuck Gustav. You know what I’m gunna do? I’m gunna get drunk.” then proceeds his staggered walk dancing down the street.
I guess when you have already lost everything, you don’t have much care for this type of thing. If he did, he was not letting on to it.
It was shortly after this that our hotel informed us we had to leave. There was no place for us, a storm is coming and you have to leave. So we packed up our things and hit the road. Well, not so much hit the road as found a parking lot. I-10 was completly packed. For most of the way we just idly sat on the road. Passengers took to the beds of their trucks to relax while traffic sat at a halt.
Finally we decided to leave the interstate and take the only other northeastern exit out of the city, and that was highway 90. To a degree things moved a little quicker at times, though not by much. We moved on inch by inch passing by many of Katrina’s ominous scars. A gas station lay in ruins with the price of unleaded still at 2.69. As we neared the quite resort and vacation areas of Lake Borgne, many lots still quietly sat as they did the day the storm passed. Nothing more then a concrete slab and a few wooden pillars left walking into the sea.
Fortunately for New Orleans, this storm decided to go the other way.
Artwork by Banksy in the Lower Ninth Ward
Evacuating for Gustav
Residence in the Garden District prepare for Gustav
Buses arrive to shuttle residence out of the city
National Guardsmen arrive in the French Quarter
With traffic at a stand still on I-10 people relax on their truck
Traffic on I-10
Looking towards the sea as Gustav loomed
People gathering at a gas station in Slidell, LA