Signing Off

As we wind up our evacu-cation here in lovely Seagrove, I finally have the time and the distance for some reflection. It's hard to believe that we raced here, lives packed up, fleeing a killer storm and traumatized at the thought of another Katrina-like episode.

Saturday, we were just relieved to have gotten out in advance. Sunday was full of dread and endless checking of websites. Monday was the day of reckoning, and even when it was clear that Gustav had swerved, and we'd avoided the worst, we were still glued to the television. Would the rapidly-overtopping Industrial Canal wall fail? But then it didn't. So Tuesday, we were finally free to relax and attempt to enjoy ourselves. Yesterday and today were icing on the cake - the waves calmed down enough to allow some swimming.

I do feel a bit guilty about not getting back to New Orleans as soon as humanly possible, like I've delayed a visit to a relative in ICU so I could go shoe shopping. After all, post-K, I stationed myself in Baton Rouge (thanks again, Mom!) so that I could have easy access to the city. But with the damage so limited this time, and there being little for me to do, I told myself it was okay.

So at this point, I am just extremely thankful, for many things, namely, that:

- my beloved city was not re-destroyed
- I had the means to evacuate and stay away as long as needed
- my house has apparently suffered little to no damage
- through all of this, I've had the advice and counsel of Carlos the Wise, my personal climatologist

And I want to thank everyone who has called, emailed, and posted to check on me and who cares about New Orleans. Your support has carried me through these very difficult times.

Well, that, and some really awesome dogs.


But seriously, thanks.

Surfpuppies

Well at least all was not lost today. The dogs got their first ever trip to the beach! Iggy was iffy about the whole thing, but followed me into the water based on pure trust. Dulle was more into it, chomping at each frothy wave like some small, fluffy blue whale. My concern about her ingestion of large amounts of salt water was borne out by later, um, GI distress she experienced. Repeatedly. Poor baby girl. She's better now.

Thanks to Tish for some incredible photographs of the expedition. Looking at them now, I rather feel like an African explorer who's emerged from the jungle only to find some elephants frolicking in the surf.

Dangers of Re-Entry

While the evacuation seems to have gone off without a hitch, there is now widespread anger about the tiered re-entry. Councilpeople Fielkow and Head have been trying to convince the Mayor to reconsider and to let people in now, but he will apparently not budge.

Writer Ian McNulty has a beautiful piece on Blog of New Orleans about the mess. Here's an excerpt, but I recommend reading the whole thing:

Our community has endured another psychological wallop from this flight from home and the holding-on and waiting-to-see that followed. True leadership should step up to inspire, encourage and thread together our common bonds for whatever comes next.

Update: TP writer James O'Byrne has written a lengthy editorial on the same subject. I'm posting an excerpt, but again advise reading the entire piece.

Under Louisiana law, it is still legally not possible to forcibly remove people from their property and make them leave in advance of an approaching storm. So every evacuation becomes an implicit contract between the officials and the public. You tell us the truth, and the risks as the scientists and forecasters see it. We'll try to make good decisions for the sake of our families.

Update #2: The TP has taken O'Byrne's article down. Apparently it was too explosive. Or something. If anyone saved a full-text copy, please email it to me.

Update #3: Found it.

How Do You Spell "Relief?"

I'll bet that New Orleanians all over the country have their own versions, but for me, it's the rather lengthy "thank god that flippin' Industrial Canal floodwall held and damn they'd better improve it soon because this was only a Category Two and look how easily it was overtopped." Okay, that technically is not a spelling, but it's in the spirit of the effort, don't you think?

Now I'm reading about this "Tier One" reentry business. There are some excellent observations on this out-of-the-blue policy on Blog of New Orleans. My beefs with this are many, but here they are in a nutshell:

1. It's unconstitutional
2. We should have been informed about it in advance (if it existed in advance) and (we could've challenged it in court)
3. The rationale - that businesses need to "restock" - doesn't make any sense
4. This policy will discourage many people from leaving next time

Nothing much I can do about it from here except dwell on the costuming potential of the various tiers (Tier One Imports!) and I'm here at the beach till Thursday anyway. But I am fully supportive of those calling for an insurrection at the checkpoints.

On some lighter notes, we had a minor accidental self-ampution yesterday when a member of our crew removed part of her fingertip and nail while chiffonading basil. "It was a really sharp knife!" proclaimed our victim, who claims to have never inflicted such an injury in 30+ years of cookery. Other helpful housemates, already in Destin on a shopping spree, grabbed the latest in medical technology to help. And this is what they found: a finger condom.


We celebrated the apparent sparing of our beloved New Orleans last night by feasting on sweet, plump fresh blue crabs (masterfully prepared by Chef David),


and consuming vast quantities of the following:

3 oz brandy
3 oz orange Curacao
3 oz Triple Sec
fruit of your choice
1 bottle of champagne


Before yesterday, this concoction had no name, but now, it is The Cocktail of the Century.

Caveat imbibor.

Reports from the Streets

Tomio - all is quiet in Bywater. No power or phone, though.

Stephanie - same in Uptown

John - Children's Hospital without city power but using their own generators.

Tried but could not get through to Karen. All circuits busy.

10 a.m. Updates

WWL-TV is reporting that there is overtopping of the Industrial Canal floodwall on the upriver (i.e., MY) side of the canal. Overtopping in and of itself isn't really a big deal, but if the pressure destabilizes the walls, or if the overtopping scours the earthen bases on the dry side, we could be looking at something bordering on the catastrophic. Also, there are two ships and one barge LOOSE in the canal. At least three people, then, should be going to prison. That is criminal negligence. I hope lawyers somewhere are preparing warrants.

On a lighter note, here is a report from Lance, a friend of a friend, who's stayed in Algiers:

It's all sideways down here. Leaves stripped from the trees. No cell service. House rattling wind gusts followed by blasts of rain.The raindrops look as sharp as razor blades. I will stay out of the way and let them pass. All the house geckos have gathered in the air conditioning vents. I can see their beady eyes looking out furtively. I've crumbled up graham crackers to reassure them all.

Hey...there goes a goose hurtling backwards. It's not too early for a beer....

Update: both ships are closer to the lake in the canal, and somehow they're being secured. No word on the barge, so maybe that was rumor. What does have me concerned is a report that water is spurting through or under the flood walls on the upper side.

Where's the Beach?

Yesterday, we had about 75' of beach to work with. We parked our short chairs in the surf, read magazines, and imbibed fruity beverages. Then, because we just couldn't resist, we grabbed the boogie boards here are the house, and went into the water. It was exhilarating. I don't think I'd smiled all day, much less laughed, but let me tell you - being propelled to shore on a bed of foam and froth did wonders for my mood.

But I don't think swimming is in the cards for today.




There's no walkable beach left at the moment. The waves are huge for this part of the coast at this time of the year. Yet according to Google Maps, we're 281 miles away from the center of the storm, so what is it like in Houma?

CNN at 3 a.m.

3 a.m. and I'm wide awake. The TV in my room doesn't have a remote, so I've just left it on CNN and it finally woke me up. The latest news is less grim: G took the slight westward jog that the Hurricane Center had been predicting, and he seems to have weakened to a strong 2 or weak 3.

I am very concerned about the West Bank of the city and Jefferson Parish, and perhaps even more so about the low-lying communities south of Houma, like Galliano and Dulac. The wetlands that once extended far into the Gulf and served as buffers have been severely eroded over the decades. The main culprits? Oil exploration, drilling, and pipelines, which have meant cutting into the swamps and hastening their erosion, and, ironically, flood control systems such as levees, which have prevented the natural restocking of the wetlands with river silt. Oh, and that pesky little global warming thing.

Now I see that someone from CNN is reporting from Grand Isle. Grand Isle??? Did no one check the projected storm surge map?

Update: WWL-TV is doing a live stream on their website. Soooo much better than CNN. And Lee Zurik just gave props to Matt McBride!

Friends and Their Whereabouts

Here's a list of friends and where they are. I'll update this regularly. Please feel free to post a response or email me to let me know where you've landed.

Staying
Mary and Tomio - Bywater
Karen and John - Carrollton
Wade and Andrea - Warehouse District
Stef and Gerry - Uptown
Martha C. - downtown
Frank R. - Treme
Louis S. - French Quarter
David S. - French Quarter
Nick - citywide
Jeff - citywide

Evacuated
Whitney and Brett - Baton Rouge
Jackie and Hans - North Carolina
Dannal - Arkansas
Alex and Kourtney - Arkansas
Cousin John - Baton Rouge
Lori - beach
Tish and Steve - beach
Ian - Baton Rouge
Doris - Eglin AFB
Sarah L. - Pensacola
Sara O. and David - Canada
Ken - Alabama
Rob W. and kids - Montgomery
Alan - Greenville
Greg - Washington, D.C.
Nathan - Bastrop
Dennis - Baton Rouge
Michelle - Hammond
Jennifer F. - Tylertown, MS

Comic Relief

With apologies to blogofneworleans, from whom I snagged this photo.

The Road to Hell I Mean Houston

Just got a call from the ever-generous Wade and Andrea, who are staying put in their Warehouse District condo. They want you all to know that anyone who didn't evacuate is welcome to stay in their loft (and they mean it). So if you're feeling a bit less enthusiastic about your home's structural integrity, let me know, and I'll put you all in touch.

Wade also reports that friends who left last night at 8 p.m. for Houston have still not arrived. Incredible. That's a whopping 15 hours, so far.

Even more glad to be here at the beach.

9 a.m. update

Just learned that contraflow means no one can go east on I-10 past Slidell. I'm so glad that we left yesterday. It woud've been near impossible to get here.

The water is now choppy, with small waves that are bigger than what you'd normally see at this hour. Gustav is making his presence known. However, Fay (remember Fay?) has left her mark - all that wind churned up lower levels of water, resulting in cooler surface temperatures (borne out by a brisk, brief swim last evening). Since hurricanes feed on warm water, this is good.


At least two sets of friends are staying: Mary and Tomio, down in Bywater, and Karen and John, over in Carrollton. I am concerned about all of them but selfishly glad that someone is still there. I don't like the idea of total abandonment of the city.

Karen says that Bob Breck says G is closer to a 2 than a 3. I wish Fox 8 had a live feed for their newscasts. Nagin has apparently claimed that no building in NOLA is wind rated above 150 mph. Anyone know where he got that stat?

This is what has me worried. Flippin' lake Pontchartrain and its crazy storm surge. We ought to just pave it.

The Mother of all Comments

Mayor C. Ray Nagin has proclaimed Gustav "the Mother of all Hurricanes." Even for a man given to hyperbole, that is a serious statement. Wunderground says it will be a cat 4, slamming the central Louisiana coast and propelling huge amounts of water into Lake Pontchartrain.

My friends here at the beach are giving me grief for checking the internet so often, telling me that I need to relax - we're on vacation! Well, I just can't get there, mentally. Pretty much everything I know and love and have worked for is threatened with destruction.

Correction/Update: Nagin actually called it "the Mother of All Storms." And "the Storm of the Century." And, in classic, fearless leader-ly fashion, he urged everyone to "get your butts out of New Orleans right now." Nagin also made some bold statements about the size of the storm's footprint, as he called it, leading an actual hurricane expert questions the accuracy of those statements. I understand the need to motivate people to take this storm and evacuation seriously, but how about we all agree to leave the technical stuff to the experts, eh?

My Life Fits in a Car

It is truly amazing what can fit in a Honda CR-V. Allow me to list the contents pictured below:

- two suitcases
- giant bin of dog food
- dog beds and bowls
- two iPod players
- printer/scanner
- laptop
- gas can
- small cooler
- basket of priceless photos (in the purple K&B carrier)
- two bags of work-related files
- 6 bags of food
- two file boxes
- paper goods
- fax machine



AND

- two enormous dogs



Aside from the fact that my car is paid for, this is what prevents me from downsizing to something like a Honda Fit.

Obscene (Natural) Beauty

That's what we've got here at the beach right now. The water is the color of jade, and the sand, well, you know. Our house, Fountain Blue, is perfectly set up for dogs - there are two sets of doors from the driveway, so keeping the dogs from running into the street should be easy. All public areas are tiled, which is so dog friendly. The kitchen set-up would send any renovator into apoplexy, however - somehow, they managed to make a large space about as inefficient as possible (the refrigerator doesn't even open all the way because of an opposite bank of cabinets). The living room has been overrun by the decor equivalent of kudzu, only in this instance, it's pineapples and palm trees. Still, I've got no complaints. We're here, and we're safe.

And then I checked the news, and see that the pretentiously-named Gustav has become a cat 5. I think I'm inured to it because I just had no reaction. I am hoping that he's a poseur whose fraud will soon be uncovered.

An Orderly Process

Katrina, admittedly, caught me off guard. I wasn't planning on leaving. My motivation came at 3 a.m. on Sunday, August 30, when, through the haze of my sleep, I heard someone on the TV say that she had reached Category 5 strength. Between calling friends and family, retrieving an out-of-town friends' pets, making a quick video of my own house, and packing, I was on the road in two hours. Suffice it to say, I didn't bring enough stuff.

This time, I'm better prepared. Important docs were in a file box, ready to go. I'm taking my laptop, backup, fax machine, and printer/scanner, so I can work from anywhere. I've got a vacation suitcase (small), and a hope-I-don't-have-to-use-it suitcase with nice clothes (large). The dogs and their accoutrements - beds, medicines, bowls, and food - are stacked and ready. I've even relocated the new television in the hopes that looters won't find it.

And yet, through this calm, my stomach is more and more knotted. It's not the near-hysteria that accompanied last time; it's slower, and building. After my last walk-through, to make sure I'm not leaving anything, I think the enormity of leaving - again - will hit me.

Evacu-Cation

For months, I've been planning the annual Friends Beach Trip. Looking forward to lounging, swimming, eating, reading, and perhaps drinking - nothing more - for several days. Then Gustav reared his ugly little head, and we thought all was lost.

My plan had been to go to Baton Rouge to stay with my mom, but since the beach house is paid for (and non-refundable!), and an easterly evacuation seems like the best bet, we've decided to go anyway.

The only glitch was the dogs. The rental company flat-out refused to waive their no-pets policy, despite the emergency situation and my plaintive begging. I spent several hours today trying to find kennels near the beach house, but they were all booked. Then, a minor miracle: the rental company called, said they'd talked to the owner, and for a small fee, they'd let me bring the preciouses! Such relief.

Who could say no to us???

The Post I Didn't Want to Make

This is the post I didn't want to make. But I've just heard Council president Jackie Clarkson say that the city will likely call for a mandatory evacuation tomorrow. So I'm making this blog public in the hopes that it will help us all stay in touch and share news and information.

Whether you're evacuating, staying, or on the fence, please stay safe.

Shot Glass of Uncertainty

If thoughts of sitting in a hot, unventilated Baton Rouge house, listening to a hand-crank radio for news of your hurricane-ravaged city drives you to drink, why not try one of these refreshing and topical beverages!

Rumors, Routes, and Recipes

The future right now is clear as mud. Many of us take comfort in the fact that NOLA is still the bulls eye, because we all know that projections this far out are never, ever correct. Bob Breck concurs.

Just stumbled across a great website that would help you find the best route out of town. Not that anyone will need it. But just in case.

And here are some more excellent food tips, whether you're staying put or hitting the road. No sense buying stuff that will go to waste. Not on the list is the most slap-your-forehead advice I ever heard: rather than tossing everything in your refrigerator/freezer, put everything in well-sealed plastic bags. That way, if the power goes out, you just toss the (critter-free) bags, and if it doesn't, you haven't wasted all that food.