Tuesday, August 30:
One of my daughters was sick all day yesterday. I'm not sure if it's an illness or just stress. We have now seen the photos of all of the destruction and flooding. One of them shows her husband's office under water.
A new levee break at the 17th Street Canal has happened and homes that were spared in the hurricane are now completely under water as Lake Pontchartrain pours in. We have good friends in that area and we know they have lost their home. The Superdome is filled with 30,000 people who have no food or water. (The Red Cross will not set up shelters in New Orleans because it's below sea level.) There's looting for food and water. And there are those who will simply take advantage of the situation to steal what they really don't need.
Tuesday, August 30: Evening:
My best friend Patricia and her family are in a hotel nearby. We have seen them every day, and that helps. We would like to call other friends and family who have left the city and gone elsewhere, but we can't. All cell phones with a 504 area code can't receive calls.
We decide we need to get away from the computer video streaming and the house, so we take the kids to a nearby mall. There is a great buffet and lots of fun things for the kids to do. But my sister tells me we can't stay past about 4:00 because of the traffic. No matter, we're ready now.
Patricia and I stop at a store -- Bath Junkie -- near her hotel to buy some bath gel. We look so pitiful, they give it to us free. Thank you, Houston.
We need more New Orleans food, so we go home and make jambalaya. After dinner, Mayor Nagin comes on and tells us the Army Corps of Engineers have not sent the sandbags we need to try to fix the breach in the 17th Street Canal. He says to expect another nine feet of water on St. Charles Avenue in a few hours. I get sick too. That's my neighborhood.
Wednesday, August 31:
This morning I woke up with swollen eyes. I couldn't hold it in any more. I didn't even have the energy to change my clothes. I brushed my teeth and washed my face and fell into bed crying. Everything I held in came out at once and when it started, it wouldn't stop.
I had a cup of tea and called my four grandchildren, Jason 6 1/2, Hayley, 3 1/2, Tyler 3 and Kaitlin 9 months. We had a yoga class this morning in my daughter's living room. Jason did the best tree pose, Tyler did the best cobra pose and Hayley did the best cat. Kaitlin just watched and chewed on a toy. It was a great stress reliever.
We listened again to the feeds from the New Orleans TV. Houston cable now carries it because there are so many refugees here. Houston has been good to us. The public schools here are accepting our children. Jason is in 1st grade and he just had his first test last Friday. He asked me today how long it would be before he he could talk to his teacher again.
Reality has set in. We just had a conversation about what to do from here. We have too many people in this house and while we are welcome, our mayor says we may not be able to come home for 4 to 6 weeks. You know what they say about the smell of company that stays too long. How long is too long we wonder? Time to cook some more comfort food.
Some of us went to a movie this afternoon. The plan was to get some escape. The theater had about 30 screens and many movie choices. We looked at each other silently and bought tickets to Skeleton Key. It was filmed recently in New Orleans and we needed a glimpse of our beloved old city as it was last week.
Patricia Chimes In:
I'm Patricia, Sharon's friend. This is the first time my family has ever evacuated New Orleans for a hurricane, but for some reason, this time we raced out as soon as possible. Let me tell you, this is the most difficult experience I have ever gone through.
When you lose a family member, or some other tragedy occurs, a few people share your pain, but in this type of situation, an entire city is suffering. In exile, we are surely more comfortable than the people left in the city. Nevertheless, we are shell-shocked, and I usually feel guilty after a good meal.
When we arrived in Houston, I called the nursing home where a close relative resides. I had been told the patients would be evacuated to Jackson Mississippi, but when I checked, it turned out they had not evacuated and so were stuck in Kenner, where the damage was expected to be really bad. I was sick to know that these poor people, who cannot help themselves, were stuck to probably drown. I have no other close family, other than my sons who came with me.
Secondarily, our homes are in this sewer bowl, and everything that we know is gone, or materially changed, forever. Our lives as we have always lived them are gone. Reality is a difficult pill to swallow. Enough for now.
