Getting the Courage:
It took me 4 months to garner my courage to go into the most devastated areas of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. I live uptown and we were the lucky ones. My area of town is in the 20% of New Orleans that wasn't flooded by Hurricane Katrina. The shops on Magazine Street are back to normal as are most of the restaurants. My bank and pharmacy are open and if we can just get a roof to stop the water from coming into the guest bathroom every time it rains, we'll be completely happy. But, if I go about 1/2 mile toward Lake Pontchartrain, there's still complete devastation. No electricity or gas, and few brave souls. I've tried not to go anywhere near that destruction. I've stayed uptown and in the French Quarter as much as possible, avoiding the worst of it. But, I finally had to admit to myself that I am a coward and it is time I faced the reality of the destruction. So, it was with a heavy heart and my best friend, Patricia, by my side that I got into my car the other day to do what I knew I must do.
A Beautiful Day Made It Worse:
Patricia lives nearby and I picked her up at 10. It was a picture perfect morning. The sky was deep blue and cloudless and the temperature was about 68 degrees. We are blessed with many of these perfect days during fall and winter in New Orleans and I should have been at the Audubon Zoo with my grandchildren. But, I had to come out of my denial so Patricia and I drove down Claiborne Avenue, heading for the Ninth Ward. I know that area well since I grew up around there. We didn't get far before we saw a familiar, but eerie sight. It is the custom in New Orleans to park your car on the Neutral Ground when a heavy rain is forecast. That's higher than the street and the curbs. In New Orleans' tradition many people parked on the wide neutral ground and under the expressway that runs overve Claiborne Ave. Trouble is, the cars are still there. Some where they were parked, but upside down. All destroyed. The mud and film covering them evidence that they were completely submerged for weeks.Going Deeper Into the Abyss:
The further down Claiborne Ave we drove the greater the destruction. As we entered the Ninth Ward, we saw houses off their foundations, piles of furniture, sheetrock, and personal belongings were in the front yards. Pieces of destroyed lives everywhere. Evidence of happier times with families, yet no living souls. It was the quiet that hurt the most. No people, no pets, no children. No lives, just evidence of what was once a thriving neighborhood now gone.
The Horror That is the Lower Ninth Ward
Friends and family who have made this journey before have told me that you have to see it first hand because no picture can show the horror to you. It's true. Smashed homes still have the spray paint on the doors with the date the house was searched by rescuers. Some of the doors or walls say simply "body found." There is no indication of when the body was retrieved and taken to the massive morgue set up in St. Gabriel as the rescuers went on with hope of finding someone still alive.
A Personal Note:
I thought of a friend who flew in from California to try to find her elderly aunt after Katrina. Her joy reading the front of the house and finding no indication that a body was found in the house led to grief when the body was found behind a door under the wreckage of the house. But that grisly discovery wasn't made until mid-December. How does one live with not knowing for so long what happened to a beloved aunt? How many more are lost and will never be found?
