By Tom Butt
I arrived by plane in New Orleans on the afternoon of Sunday, Nov. 6.
From the air, I could see blue “roofs” everywhere - tarps provided by FEMA for storm-damaged roofs. I rented a car but immediately got lost because so many road signs had been blown down.
The only traffic lights working were those in areas without flooding. There were no utilities turned on yet, but many residents had stripped their homes of furnishings, carpets and plaster.
FEMA contractors moved through neighborhoods collecting great piles of debris heaped along the streets. Abandoned cars were everywhere.
Although not overwhelming, the stench of rotting food was pervasive. Weeks without power ruined every refrigerator in New Orleans, whether flooded or not. It seemed that every single one had been carted out to the street for pick-up.
On Wednesday, we began working in a historic district called Holy Cross in the now infamous Lower Ninth Ward. Holy Cross suffered serious flood damage because of its close proximity to one of the levee breaks on the Industrial Canal.
The water line was about five feet above floor level on the historic homes that were originally built above crawl spaces.
For homes built in the mid 20th century that sit on cement slabs, the water level was up to the roof. The neighborhood was totally deserted except for patrolling police officers and the National Guard.
All of the individuals we encountered in Holy Cross had flood stories. One man we spoke with was in the process of cleaning out one of the two homes his family owned in the neighborhood. He had ridden out the storm and was still in his home when the water began to rise quickly from the levee break. He climbed into his attic, and as the water kept rising, he exited through a gable window onto his roof. He saw a boat float by, upside down with a dog on it, so he jumped in and retrieved it. After leaving the dog, which he said clung to him like Velcro, on his roof, he proceeded to rescue nine other people, bringing them all to the second floor balcony of a nearby home. After three days, they were rescued by the National Guard and taken to a school on higher ground. He spent two weeks at the school and was then sent on an odyssey that included several states. Eventually, his employer caught up with him and persuaded him to return to New Orleans to resume his job as a cook in a restaurant.
Perhaps the most enduring feeling that one experiences in New Orleans is the eerie sensation of a city that is largely deserted - blocks and blocks of homes and absolutely nothing moving in any direction.
All the front doors of the houses are open, and all the occupants’ belongings - their whole lives - are just strewn in the street.
