New Orleans- The City That Care Forgot
Its been a while since I have posted, not that i havent been writing, but I havent edited everything yet, but felt a need to write about the devastation going on in Louisiana and Mississippi.
My family pretty much has lost everything. MY mothers house in the Marigny is underwater. She evacuated to Laurel, MS. My brother tried to evacuate on Sunday, but got stuck in traffic and had to turn back to his girlfriends families house in New Orleans near the airport.
I just moved back to NY from New Orleans two years ago, and everyone I knew there just keeps flashing in my mind. Mr. Steeg, my old boss who is in his 80s, his wife, the little kids at my daughters catholic school uptown, my friend Wardell, the mailroom guy at my old lawfirm who just overcame colon cancer.
Rewind to three weeks ago. G was staying with my mom for a few weeks. My mom just bought a beach house in her home town of Bay St. Louis. I came to get her, and there we were in her new house that did need work, but was going to be wonderful. This town, is a town I spent summers in as a kid. Swimming with my friend Lisa from Waveland in the Gulf of Mexico. It was surreal to see my child there, playing in the green grass, listening to the crickets, and smelling the freshness of the honeysuckle and lush plants every where. We went to the beach where the water is calm and warm. G played in the water, splashing and looking at the little fish. My mom and I plopped on the sand under an unbrella- reminicing. This was a town that she grew up in- where if it was too hot indoors, she would run to the pier and sleep and wakeup the next day and go home. A town that gave us Lil Rays shrimp po boys, and the best catfish in the world. G came home telling everyone about the gulf of mexico. She was captivated by it. We had no idea that a few weeks later, my mom would be missing, my brother would be missing, and I would be left in NY helpless wondering if my familymembers were alive or not.
As the storm approached, my mom called me. A tree had fallen into the kitchen of the house she was in. She still had at least three hours of the storm to go. Her voice was shaky and she was scared. My brother was in New Orleans- he never made it out, and all I could see on the news was mass flooding. Within the first two hours, 9th Ward was under 6 feet of water. Nothing could prepare us for what was ahead. After this conversation, I didnt hear from my mother for three days.
Three days of watching the first footage of what Katrina left behind- what my brother could be in, what my mother could be in. Three days of knowing that even if they are ok, they are without power and anyone who has been to Mississippi or New Orleans in Aug/Sept will tell you, its brutally hot. They dont have clean drinking water. My brother was in New Orleans, where i am seeing looting and shootings and desperate people, dead corpses floating around. Helpless, all I could do here is just wait and wait some more.
Then the footage of Bay St. Louis and Waveland came in. And they were wiped out. Im thinking of my aunts, my cousins, my uncles. Many of whom live in those areas. They show a second line marching down canal street waist high in water. Then breaking news flashes in. A levee has broken. New Orleans will now be filled with even more water.
Trying come to terms with the fact that this city is gone, I am trying to keep my head straight as I wait for my family to call me. I finally get a hold of my brother-while sitting in my friend Ts house drinking wine. He is ok. He is on a higher point of New Orleans, but obvoisly doesnt know the impact that this storm had on the rest of the city. He has a power generator. He is safe. None of us had heard from our mom-family members and friends were calling me, but all I could say over and over is that I dont know where she is and no I dont know if she is ok.
Two days later, I get a phone call from a man who I dont know. He says my mom is ok. She is in Laurel. I can finally try to sleep.
I dont know if everything is just hitting me now, or maybe I was just in survival mode when I was waiting to hear form them, but I was ok until I was standing on the Q train to drop of money to Gs grandfather since he had her all week long. I didnt have a seat so I was standing holding on the pole, and I guess the guy in front of me knew I was about to cry. Men usually sense this.. when a girl is at the verge of tears. I grabbed my cell phone and called R, a friend of my moms since we were little, and like an aunt to me. I couldnt even finish my sentence before becoming a blubbering mess. The lady sitting next to me, hands me her tissue pack and tells me to keep it. All I can say is "we have lost everything" as I walk out of Church Ave. Train station. "Well fasten your seat bealt honey", she began in her Jackson Mississippi accent "because this is going to be just the beginning".
I almost want to tell people who say to me "at least your brother and your mother are ok" that NO. They certainly are not ok. Yes, they are alive, but things certainly are not OK. Lives have been torn apart. My mom has lost everything. EVERYTHING. from family photos, to clothes, to my grandmothers china. EVERYTHING IS GONE. So NO things are not ok. We are not at the superdome starving and hot and waiting for this joke of a fucking president to get his ass in gear and get the National Guard on point, but we arent OK.
So I watch now the city burn, the city drown, the people die. And I wonder about everyone. I wonder about my aunt and uncle who never evacuated Bay St. Louis. I wonder about my relatives who are doctors who stayed behind, only to hear there was a shooting in Charity Hospital, I wonder about the woman who used to serve my gumbo at lunch time and say "here baby" and slip an extra piece of cornbread in the bag.
I know I shouldnt stay watching the news all the time, but I have to. I think about Bush, how in 2001 FEMA warned that New Orleans was one of the three most likely disasters in the United States, yet Bush cut New Orleans Flood control funding by 44 percent to help fund his fucking oil war.
My mom is en route to Chicago. She met with Rs sister in Jackson, MS and got some cash for gas and I will be flying her out here from Chicago where she will stay with me. I am working on getting her to work at my office so she can have some money, since her firm in New Orleans has been wiped out along with the rest of Canal Street.
Im angry, and Im sad, and Im tired and Im overwhelmed. I just want to spend this weekend with my daughter and be grateful that everyone is alive.
My family pretty much has lost everything. MY mothers house in the Marigny is underwater. She evacuated to Laurel, MS. My brother tried to evacuate on Sunday, but got stuck in traffic and had to turn back to his girlfriends families house in New Orleans near the airport.
I just moved back to NY from New Orleans two years ago, and everyone I knew there just keeps flashing in my mind. Mr. Steeg, my old boss who is in his 80s, his wife, the little kids at my daughters catholic school uptown, my friend Wardell, the mailroom guy at my old lawfirm who just overcame colon cancer.
Rewind to three weeks ago. G was staying with my mom for a few weeks. My mom just bought a beach house in her home town of Bay St. Louis. I came to get her, and there we were in her new house that did need work, but was going to be wonderful. This town, is a town I spent summers in as a kid. Swimming with my friend Lisa from Waveland in the Gulf of Mexico. It was surreal to see my child there, playing in the green grass, listening to the crickets, and smelling the freshness of the honeysuckle and lush plants every where. We went to the beach where the water is calm and warm. G played in the water, splashing and looking at the little fish. My mom and I plopped on the sand under an unbrella- reminicing. This was a town that she grew up in- where if it was too hot indoors, she would run to the pier and sleep and wakeup the next day and go home. A town that gave us Lil Rays shrimp po boys, and the best catfish in the world. G came home telling everyone about the gulf of mexico. She was captivated by it. We had no idea that a few weeks later, my mom would be missing, my brother would be missing, and I would be left in NY helpless wondering if my familymembers were alive or not.
As the storm approached, my mom called me. A tree had fallen into the kitchen of the house she was in. She still had at least three hours of the storm to go. Her voice was shaky and she was scared. My brother was in New Orleans- he never made it out, and all I could see on the news was mass flooding. Within the first two hours, 9th Ward was under 6 feet of water. Nothing could prepare us for what was ahead. After this conversation, I didnt hear from my mother for three days.
Three days of watching the first footage of what Katrina left behind- what my brother could be in, what my mother could be in. Three days of knowing that even if they are ok, they are without power and anyone who has been to Mississippi or New Orleans in Aug/Sept will tell you, its brutally hot. They dont have clean drinking water. My brother was in New Orleans, where i am seeing looting and shootings and desperate people, dead corpses floating around. Helpless, all I could do here is just wait and wait some more.
Then the footage of Bay St. Louis and Waveland came in. And they were wiped out. Im thinking of my aunts, my cousins, my uncles. Many of whom live in those areas. They show a second line marching down canal street waist high in water. Then breaking news flashes in. A levee has broken. New Orleans will now be filled with even more water.
Trying come to terms with the fact that this city is gone, I am trying to keep my head straight as I wait for my family to call me. I finally get a hold of my brother-while sitting in my friend Ts house drinking wine. He is ok. He is on a higher point of New Orleans, but obvoisly doesnt know the impact that this storm had on the rest of the city. He has a power generator. He is safe. None of us had heard from our mom-family members and friends were calling me, but all I could say over and over is that I dont know where she is and no I dont know if she is ok.
Two days later, I get a phone call from a man who I dont know. He says my mom is ok. She is in Laurel. I can finally try to sleep.
I dont know if everything is just hitting me now, or maybe I was just in survival mode when I was waiting to hear form them, but I was ok until I was standing on the Q train to drop of money to Gs grandfather since he had her all week long. I didnt have a seat so I was standing holding on the pole, and I guess the guy in front of me knew I was about to cry. Men usually sense this.. when a girl is at the verge of tears. I grabbed my cell phone and called R, a friend of my moms since we were little, and like an aunt to me. I couldnt even finish my sentence before becoming a blubbering mess. The lady sitting next to me, hands me her tissue pack and tells me to keep it. All I can say is "we have lost everything" as I walk out of Church Ave. Train station. "Well fasten your seat bealt honey", she began in her Jackson Mississippi accent "because this is going to be just the beginning".
I almost want to tell people who say to me "at least your brother and your mother are ok" that NO. They certainly are not ok. Yes, they are alive, but things certainly are not OK. Lives have been torn apart. My mom has lost everything. EVERYTHING. from family photos, to clothes, to my grandmothers china. EVERYTHING IS GONE. So NO things are not ok. We are not at the superdome starving and hot and waiting for this joke of a fucking president to get his ass in gear and get the National Guard on point, but we arent OK.
So I watch now the city burn, the city drown, the people die. And I wonder about everyone. I wonder about my aunt and uncle who never evacuated Bay St. Louis. I wonder about my relatives who are doctors who stayed behind, only to hear there was a shooting in Charity Hospital, I wonder about the woman who used to serve my gumbo at lunch time and say "here baby" and slip an extra piece of cornbread in the bag.
I know I shouldnt stay watching the news all the time, but I have to. I think about Bush, how in 2001 FEMA warned that New Orleans was one of the three most likely disasters in the United States, yet Bush cut New Orleans Flood control funding by 44 percent to help fund his fucking oil war.
My mom is en route to Chicago. She met with Rs sister in Jackson, MS and got some cash for gas and I will be flying her out here from Chicago where she will stay with me. I am working on getting her to work at my office so she can have some money, since her firm in New Orleans has been wiped out along with the rest of Canal Street.
Im angry, and Im sad, and Im tired and Im overwhelmed. I just want to spend this weekend with my daughter and be grateful that everyone is alive.
posted by Jessica @ 12:56 PM
1 Comments:
At 2:16 PM,
Misty said…
I am really happy your family is ok. I have no idea how awful it is, as tv can't give the full impact. My heart goes out to all of you and I can only hope the government will get their asses moving to help the victims.
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