29 August

Three years ago from today, on 29 August 2004, a strong tropical storm came ashore by my home - a storm that was later reclassified as a hurricane, which made sense to me, since I was home, nervously cleaning (I had no electricity, but I did have water - so cleaning seemed like the logical nervous activity - it was morning, and too early to start drinking, although during tropical storms I'm not so sure that the same rules should apply) - and I remember feeling relieved when the sky brightened, only to then realize that it was the eye of the storm - the eye of a storm that was not necessarily supposed to have an eye.  It was one of those surprise storms that creep up on the coastline - I had joined friends for dinner the previous night, and had arrived home around 11 pm to hear on the news that the tropical depression was now a strengthening tropical storm right off of our coast - but there was no sense at all that a Category 1 hurricane was forming.  It wasn't until the early, still dark hours of the morning that the electricity went out and the beeping of the refrigerator woke me up - and with the light of morning I could tell that the storm was more than I (or most) had anticipated.  I was looking forward to a rainy day - but not a day that would take six trees from my garden.  We got about ten inches of rain that morning - and most of the damage was from soil saturation, and trees with more shallow root systems were literally coming up out of the ground.  A large tulip poplar in the front garden was leaning precariously over my car, until I decided to run out in the rain and move it.  I know, silly and dangerous.  The Peanut Riders helped take down five of the trees - but that tulip poplar had to get taken down by 'professionals' (and that's not to say that The Peanut Riders weren't thoroughly professional) - and I remember the tears falling as I watched them.  I kept some of the flower pods from that tree in a bowl on my dining room table - I'll pack those pods and store them and put them on the dining room table in my new home.  I find it heartbreaking to see trees come down.    

But Hurricane Gaston was nothing.

I can't imagine what people in New Orleans and all along that part of the coast went through during Katrina.  Here we are, the 29th of August, and it seems like two years couldn't have passed by - but I'm guessing that the two years that went by so quickly for me went by painfully slow for those folks.  Today was slow, and tomorrow will go by slowly as well.  I've spoken several times recently to a friend and colleague whose home was destroyed during Katrina:  he and his spouse had the resources to rebuild, and they did - but many in their neighborhood have not rebuilt and their days still feel strange and their streets still feel mostly abandoned.  But they were more fortunate than many. 

This evening I ran across a few blogs that originated from New Orleans - and I found myself starting to read them and just felt compelled to keep reading.  Their stories were both simple and unimaginable - hopeful and sad.  The first one that I came across started at the end - the final post, dated July 3, 2007 from Fix the Pumps, written by someone who had been passionately blogging about the pumps that need to be repaired all across the city.  I'm guessing that this post eloquently summarizes a common feeling:

As some of you may know, I'm trying to step away from all of this. It's taken a huge toll on me, as if Katrina weren't damaging enough.

So this is my last post. For a while, I'd considered this a closed loop process, where a defined end would be reached at some point.

However, I've concluded "Katrina" will never end, and at this point the only way to find my end is to declare it.

I had thought about continuing for a while, despite some major transitions in my life, but I just don't think it's worth it. I've got to move on. I've put out as much information as I can get, and if people don't understand the issues at hand by now, they'll never understand.

Thanks to all those who have supported me. I wish the best for New Orleans.

I also found New Orleans Renovation and Metroblogging New Orleans interesting too. 

I just think that today I didn't want to hear Anderson Cooper talking about New Orleans now versus then, and I didn't want to hear what Bush had to say, or the nightly news guys.  I think I wanted to hear what folks that live there every day were saying. 

I wish the best for New Orleans too. 

Comments

[Ellis Hollow]

Had all the money spent on rebuilding been put in the hands of the people who need it -- rather than laundered through a system of corrupt crony capitalism -- I think we'd be amazed at the progress instead of saddened.

[Pam]

EH: As for Katrina, everything about it except for the storm, was a disgrace. I couldn't agree more.

[layanee]

A poignant reminder that life is still difficult for many right here at home!

[Pam]

Layanee: I haven't been down there since Katrina. It's hard to imagine how many lives were changed since that storm.