Hurricane Katrina - My Story

Four years ago, Hurricane Katrina hit the coast of Southeast Louisiana and the shorelines of Mississippi. Today, I have been looking back at my life then and my experiences during this event. I even found another blogger who wrote about remembering this event.

Now my stories are NOTHING, and I mean NOTHING compared to most. I didn't lose my home. My family members were all alive and safe. I didn't suffer depression and loss of community the way others did.

Still I do want to remember the events that did occur in my life, at least for historical and accuracy purposes. Vivian may want to write a report on it or use it for a future Social Studies project someday.

Of course she could just interview my husband's family. Most of them had to relocate because they lost everything. Many of his aunts, uncles and cousins witnessed very tragic things (an entire home under water, being trapped in a hospital where food and water ran out, etc, etc.) But I can't tell their stories. I can only tell mine. So here it is.

My husband Kirk and I waited too long to leave the city of New Orleans. We lived in Kenner, an outside suburb where the airport is located. Since we didn't have a hotel in Houston or Memphis, we decided to just head slightly north and east to Slidell. (Not the brightest move but we didn't know it at the time!)

Kirk worked in Slidell as an I.T. contractor at a small military facility called DISA (Defense Information Systems Agency), which was a division of the Department of Defense. Since most military buildings are built like forts, we figured it was the best place to retreat. We arrived there Sunday afternoon. (Katrina hit the next day, Monday).

Our cat Sammy was left behind at home with enough food and water for about five days. We brought enough clothes and items to last us two or three days. We had no idea that we would not return home for a week nor stay in our house ever again.

I never thought this was going to be the "Big One." That is what happens when you dodge them most of your life and you're spared. You become naive and cocky. I remember that I was dancing around the offices of the building, practicing my Jazzercise moves. I was supposed to try out to be a Jazzercise instructor a week later at my gym so I practiced my routines while waiting for the storm to pass over.

There were no beds at this facility. It was not a hotel. We slept on cots, in my husband's boss' office. I had forgotten that we took a photo of it until I looked back at all the pictures this morning. Here is how we slept, side by side with sleeping bags as blankets (now, you see why I'm in no rush to go camping):



We found other couples and families staying there as well. They were co-workers of Kirk who had also not arranged a backup plan to leave. I remember meeting Lynn who had a two-day old baby. YES! She seemed so strong, not scared at all as I later became. I guess she had someone to look after, her beautiful daughter Elyssa. She couldn't lose it because she had this very important distraction in her life. Lynn, her husband Daryll and their daughter slept in the office next to ours. There were others too, like Starla with her husband and two children who slept in cubicles on the second floor.

Sunday night was a long one and I don't think many of us slept. But the wrath didn't come until Monday, around mid afternoon. We woke up Monday to see heavy rain and wind. As the day went on, the weather became worse. We could literally watch trees fold and tear in half, as we peered through the windows of this building. Many of us gathered in the kitchen and cafeteria where several wives of military men were cooking and making food for those of us staying there. Comfort foods took on a whole new meaning.

At some point during the day, the wind and rains became scary. We began to hear sounds like the building was beginning to tear apart, one portion of it anyway. Tiles were falling off. Awful ripping sounds could be heard. That is when I became frightened. That was the first moment when I wasn't sure we'd be safe. After what seemed like an eternity passed, the noises stopped. Engineers and workers went out to see the damage. This is what they found:






Some rain leaked into the building but it was cleaned up and later sealed off from most of us. Soon the streets were flooded. We couldn't even see where the sidewalks began. A river was going through the city but thankfully stayed out of our facility. Trees and powerlines were down everywhere. Slidell's police and fire stations were under water. They soon moved into our building to continue operating and rescuing people across the city.

Those of us staying at DISA all had to pitch in to help out in some way. Kirk had been helping out since we arrived from shutting down the computers, checking the network, to performing whatever manual labor was needed. The women either cooked or did laundry. (Yes, there were washers and dryers at this building. It had almost everything we needed, including bathrooms with showers, even though hot water was gone by the third day). We had mouths to feed, important mouths of those risking their lives to save others. And those men and women needed fresh, dry clothing so they could go out and do more good work. Since I felt there were already too many cooks in the kitchen, I volunteered to do laundry. It quickly became an all-day chore. We had a hallway just dedicated to people's dirty clothes. Here is a picture I took:



(Makes you think twice about complaining over just one load, eh?)

I tried to have a sense of humor, even in these tough times. I named our laundry service and even created this sign while I worked for hours washing and folding laundry:



We ate well while we were there. No MRE's for us (Meals Ready to Eat, military food). Actually we even had steaks one night. Every morning we ate fresh eggs, bacon and an assortment of things. Meals were served three times a day, generally for two hours at a time to try to accommodate those rescue teams coming in and out. Those firemen and policemen brought in goods and groceries from businesses and stores that they checked for people and damage. The supply probably could have lasted us for several weeks.

I had nothing to really complain about, except for the complete communication cut-off from our famlies. Cell phones did not work. All lines were down. We didn't know where Kirk's family were and if they were safe. We wondered if the storm had reached as far as my parents' home, an hour away from our residence. The "not knowing" part is what really got to me by Thursday.

People finally started texting and getting through to loved ones. Reporters and news crews showed up at our facility from helicopters above to tell stories of what was happening. We bartered with them to use their satellite phones to try to reach family members. When the water in the roads finally went down, some of us drove to get cell phone coverage and try to make phone calls. But most of the city and surroundings had not been clear. We could not go far. We could not go home yet.

I called a friend in New Mexico and got through to her. She then called my parents to let them know we were safe. After hours of dialing and redialing, I finally reached my parents. When I heard my dad's voice, I just cried hysterically. I lost it! I said I wanted to go home. My father offered to pick us up, if he could get through the debris on the roads. Surprisingly, Kirk did not want to leave when I told him this. He became a bit obsessed with working and helping others there. (I don't blame him but he and I were in different mindsets, at that point). He was in this whole work-mode that I just didn't understand at the time. Things were very tense between us. But we later resolved the issues. We left the next day, following my father who drove four hours to find us, even after I told him not to come. He told us the road conditions we would be facing.

We had to drive completely around the city, from Slidell through the Northshore, down to LaPlace and finally to my folks' house in Gray, Louisiana (just outside of Houma), which was about 50 minutes west of where we lived. My parents had been unaffected by the storm. They still had power, cable and a working phone. Upon arriving at my parents' house, Kirk wanted to immediately attempt to drive into Kenner to assess whatever damage might be at our home. Also, we were worried about our cat, wondering if he was still alive.

So Kirk and my dad jumped into the truck and drove to Kenner. Thankfully our cat was fine, found hidden under our bed. Sammy was out of food but still had water. Our house had not flooded but parts of the roof had caved in. Rainwater and insulation covered our kitchen and living room. Here are a few pictures of what it looked like (a week later, when our power returned):





The tree in our backyard had been completely uprooted. Here is what it looked like when we found it:



We could not remain in our own home, so we stayed with my parents for over a week. Then we stayed with a co-worker of Kirk's for about two months back in Slidell where Kirk returned to work. We needed the money, after all. I worked from Mandeville at an office where my Kenner company set up a temporary location.

Times were very low during those two months. We worked then went to our temporary residence and tried to avoid just watching news coverage on what was happening. Often electricity would go off and we'd pull out the generator and try to continue household activities. Those two months seemed to last a very long time.

With all the chaos going on around us, we heard the end of Kirk's job was near. The Government was going to close down the facility where he worked and relocate all government personnel. (Part of the BRAC list in 2005). This was actually determined before Hurricane Katrina but even the storm would not keep the facility open permanently. Since Kirk was a contractor, he would be out of employment soon.

We became a little bitter about our lives at this point. Talking it over, we decided it was time to look beyond Louisiana for opportunities. Kirk put his resume out with recruiters and websites across the country. He is a gifted I.T. professional. I knew someone would want his expertise. Soon we received calls from Texas, Colorado, Georgia, and other states. The one we hadn't anticipated and I never thought I'd consider was Ohio, in Dayton to be exact. A contractor position at Wright-Patterson air force base was calling his name. This was in October of 2005, just two months after Hurricane Katrina hit. We still weren't living in our house.

We flew up to Dayton and actually became quite impressed with the area. It was falltime so the colors on the trees were beautiful. The city seemed clean. The people seemed friendly. Why not? If we were ever going to take a big leap in our lives, now was the time. We didn't have a child yet.

Back home, our families were quite surprised to hear we were leaving. Yet they supported us and helped us pack up our things. Kirk's father would be in charge of our home while we were gone, help us find repairmen to fix it and then we'd sell it. In November 2005, we left our home state (well my home for 27 years; Kirk had lived in other states growing up).

In some way, looking back, I wonder if we did the right thing. Did we take the easy way out? Just leaving like that while the city around us was a mess? I often feel guilty, like maybe I should have stayed around to help rebuild or be a part of this changing event.

But there were no local job opportunities for Kirk. So ultimately, we had to go where the employment led us. A year later, Ohio finally did become "home" for us and we met some really great people. I know we made the right choice for us at the time.

When I think back to the days of Hurricane Katrina, I almost forget that it happened to me. The whole event was so surreal. I recall watching it on television a week after, thinking that I was witnessing a bad Lifetime movie. I have many relatives and friends that have horror stories and experiences. Some people lost every single belonging that wasn't on their back or in their suitcase. Mentally, some folks are not the same, nor should we expect them to be once you lose your entire identity and community in just a few days.

I'm humbled by my experiences in this disaster. Believe it or not, I think I needed to go through this to realize how lucky I am. Sometimes when I find myself complaining about my life, I think back to what it could have been. I'm so very fortunate. We all are, when you think about it.

So that is my story (and I'm sticking to it). Thank you to all those people who were so kind to us during and after this storm.