Monday, September 05, 2005

Katrina

Hurricane. Name Game. Came. Claim. Who's to Blame? Katrina was here and is gone but will never leave us. The "City that Care Forgot" and its people are going through an incomprehensible nightmare. The Nation watches in utter disbelief. And so do I.

I was born in New Orleans but raised in Metairie. My mother and father had the new middle class suburban life. They built their house from the ground up and raised their four children there. Our houses were close, but our neighbors were closer. We played "Kick the Can" with the neighbor kids, and ran from the Mosquito Control trucks. We went to the canals [drainage canals that are exposed] and watched snakes, rats, raccoons, turtles and nutria living on the banks. We rode our bikes to Lake Ponchartrain and stood on its shore surveying its majesty. On Friday nights, my Dad would take us to the lakefront to Fitzgerald's for the best seafood in town. We attended catechism at our parish church, St. Clement of Rome. We never really worried about hurricanes; the big ones never hit New Orleans.

I attended the Holy Cross School, one of the oldest high schools in the area and the first Brothers of Holy Cross School in the United States. You may be familiar with the Brothers of Holy Cross; they are the order responsible for the creation of the inimitable "Fighting Irish" of Notre Dame. This was my first exposure to the "Ninth Ward". This is an area bordered by the Industrial Canal, which empties into the Mississippi River. It was also during my high school years that I got my first adult exposure to the French Quarter and Bourbon Street.

I attended the University of New Orleans and received my Bachelors Degrees in History and Political Science. I left the Crescent City in 1989 to move to Michigan to attend the Thomas M. Cooley Law School. I left New Orleans, but New Orleans never left me--the culture, the food, the music, the attitude. I have always carried a piece of it with me [including a small bit of the accent, which has since been blended with an East Coast Timbre and a Midwest Nasal Twang].

I always kept in close contact with my parents and my siblings. When I heard that Katrina was coming and that it was the Storm of the Century, I worried for their safety. There was a mad rush to collect everyone and whatever you could carry and get out as fast as you could. My mother and father were able to evacuate with my youngest sister and her family to Houston, Texas. My older sister and her family were able to evacuate to Northern Mississippi. For days, we did not know what happened to my older brother. All we could do was pray that he got out and that God spared his family.

I watched the Weather Channel and all of the National News Channels without reprieve. Then, it hit! And then we could not contact each other. All cell phone service was lost. For hours. Waiting. Wondering if everyone was alright. Praying. The News Media painted the worst picture possible. Loss of power. Water flooding the entire city. Thousands of people are now refugees in their home town. The City that brought to the world Jazz, "Mardi Gras", "The Sugar Bowl", and "The Sazerac", was brought to its knees.

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