Hurricane Katrina
I live in Kansas now, but from age two to fifteen I lived in Slidell, Louisiana. Slidell is a small community just north across Lake Pontchartrain from New Orleans.
I am sure that the house I spent most of those years in no longer exists. Here is a picture my wife found of the neighborhood that house is in:
The neighborhood, Eden Isles, is situated very close to the lake. That was part of the point. Every house had access to the water. We often had a boat at the dock in our back yard.
We always knew that we could be wiped out by any hurricane. When they came, we brought in the patio furniture (so it wouldn’t be thrown through our glass doors by the wind) and headed north. It was just how life was. It wasn’t scary, or a big deal, it was kind of an adventure for a kid. I always knew that if we came back to a pile of sticks, insurance would replace all of our stuff and build a new house for us.
What everyone who grows up in the area knows, is that evacuation in the face of a hurricane is a very personal thing. Many people who have spent decades there get hardened to them and don’t evacuate. They are always interviewing them on television, “I’d rather die in my house than run from a storm.” I’m sure their sentiments are different on the way up to a helicopter in a basket. Seriously though, in the past there was an evacuation in Louisiana where the evacuees were trapped on the highway by rising waters and then killed by poisonous snakes while they stood on top of their cars. Due to that incident evacuations were never again made mandatory in Louisiana. Instead, the Police drive down the street telling everyone to leave from their bullhorns. In true Louisiana style though, everyone listens to this, and makes their own decision. Some flee, some stay, and those who stay often suffer the consequences of thumbing their nose at nature.
Hurricanes aren’t like earthquakes or tornadoes. They used to be, but with modern technology, we know they are coming for days. We really can run from them. What is really sad is that while it is true that many of those who did not evacuate suffer the fate they brought on themselves, most of the ones we see on the news now didn’t stay by choice. Especially in New Orleans. Large cities always have large segments of poor. In a large city cars are not a necessity and can even be a liability, having to find parking at home and at work for it, and keeping it safe. While a poor person in a small community may be able to have an old junk car, in a big city it is a luxury that just isn’t possible. Most of the people left in New Orleans are very poor people who had no personal transportation. It is a great shame that we made no formal effort to evacuate them.
New Orleans is a death trap in such storms, and everyone knows it. There has always been the fear that some day a hurricane would come right into Lake Pontchartrain and displace the entire lake into New Orleans, leaving the city under fifteen feet of water. Actually, New Orleans got off easy this time. The levee broke after the storm surge was mostly over. The Lake wasn’t actually pushed into the city, but rather the levees just broke. It could have been worse.
Unfortunately, the contempt that comes with familiarity is part of the nature of hurricanes. They always come. Some people run, and some stay. The damage is rarely catastrophic in certain areas, and so we get used to them. Yes, they tell us on the news that this one is “really big” and that “it may be the big one,” but after surviving so many, everyone gets laid back. Even government officials charged with evacuating poor people from a death trap.
In the future, New Orleans should probably be abandoned. It is a really bad spot for anyone to live, certainly for a big city. At the least it should just be bulldozed and the entire bit of land raised about 20 feet. None of that will happen though. They will rebuild. The levees will be made stronger, and people will return. I don’t blame them. I would go back too. It is a wonderful place. I believe it is one of the few remaining havens in our country of truly unique culture.
Personally, it is kind of numbing to see it all in what used to be my back yard. In a way I wish I was there. I know if I ever go back, it won’t be the same. So many around me will look back to Katrina and I’ll just remember the news photos. However, I lived all of my childhood years under the shadow of Camille, and it happened before I was born. It was always “Camille this,” and “Camille that.” I could point out places where things ued to be that Camille destroyed and show your boats that were still where Camille left them, several miles inland. So maybe I’m just destined to live in the shadow of tragedy that missed me.
