Hurricane Katrina Followup - October 2005

Originally published May 18, 2008

I promised a blog about my experience going to New Orleans after Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. So here goes. I apologize for the length of this post, but I'm still leaving out a ton of stuff!

I went to New Orleans in October 2005 to help retrieve items and check on a few homes. Two evacuees (Lillian Austin and her 17-year-old grandson) went with me, and we recovered clothing and photographs from their upstairs bedrooms that were not damaged by flooding or mold. Even though it was October, the weather was hot, muggy, and miserable. The first floor of their home was covered in black sludge, which was extremely slick. Furniture was all topsy-turvy, and mold covered the walls almost up to the ceiling. We had to wear boots, gloves, and masks. It was so hot that I tried not wearing a mask, but the mold was so bad that I couldn't breathe very well without the mask. The second floor was better, except for the hole in the roof and thousands of cockroaches.

Here is a picture of their house, which is actually a duplex. They lived on the left side of the duplex. Notice that everything outside is dead and crusty.

Lillian's car was completely submerged for weeks. You can see the different water/sludge markings on her car as the water receded. The minivan next door had also been completely submerged. There were thousands and thousands of cars in the same predicament.

Speaking of that minivan, when the water started rising in their neighborhood, Lillian and her two grandsons (the 17 year-old and a 5 year-old) went to the second level in their house. The water had reached the eaves of all of the one-story houses in their neighborhood. The only way they could escape was to wade down the stairs into the water that was up to the ceiling, hold their breath, and swim underwater out the front door. Then, they took refuge on the roof of the minivan, which was underwater, but at least they were able to stand on it until a boat came for them. I can't imagine the terror and fear that they went through.

As a side note, just before they swam out of their house, the older grandson took pictures of the floodwaters with his cell phone, and then he left his cell phone in his bedroom. Then, when we went back to their home in October, his cell phone was still there with those pictures on it. It was unbelievable how high the water had been!

Here's a picture of their living room.
The kitchen. It's a good thing that I don't have a sense of smell. And yes, that's a refrigerator lying on the kitchen floor.
This is a picture looking down their street. Everything was desolate. This was only the first or second day that residents were allowed back into New Orleans, so hardly anyone was there. There was no electricity, no water, no sewer, no stop lights, no street signs, no stop signs, no air conditioning, no sounds of traffic, no sounds of birds, no nothing.

Next door, another family had started to retrieve what little they had left. They saw me taking pictures of Lillian's house and the street and asked if I was with the Red Cross. I told them no, but I was just here to help out Lillian after meeting her in the shelter in Austin. This poor family had almost nothing left. Not only was their entire first floor flooded completely like Lillian's, but their roof had several holes in it, allowing rain to come in and ruin almost everything.

They looked to me for guidance on what to keep and what to throw away. I'm no expert, but they thought that I was. Based on what I had seen on TV over the past few weeks, I was able to help a little bit. One item that they were able to keep was a large photo album that had been tucked away in a closet on the first floor. The closet was jammed shut, so the flood waters weren't able to reach the top of it. Even though there was some damage to the album, the photos were fine.

This family didn't have any water, gloves, or masks with them. Being a Mormon who seems to always be prepared for something, I had purchased a ton of extra gloves, masks, and water. So I was able to give them these items, for which they were so grateful. There was nowhere to get water or anything in New Orleans, and in their anxiousness to get home, they hadn't thought of preparing themselves for the day. I'm so glad that we were there at the same time they were.

Here are some other pictures of New Orleans from that day.


In another house on Bruxelle Street, I was able to retrieve photographs and a few precious items for Miss Alice Maney, a widow in her 70s. The most important item was an 1800s-era portrait of her great-grandparents, who had been slaves. Miss Alice still lives in Austin and has been very ill since the hurricane. She shares the same birth date as Martin Luther King, Jr., and she is very proud of that fact. Her husband was a Zulu Warrior. She has no children. Although she has been torn from her home, she believes that God sent her here to Austin where people care about her and love her.

Fortunately, her home (also a duplex) was built on blocks and is on higher ground, so the living area wasn't touched by floodwaters. For Alice, the evacuation was a much worse experience than the hurricane was. The day after the hurricane, she laid down to take a nap before going to the grocery store. Her keys and coin purse were next to the front door, ready for when she woke up from her nap. Well, sometime during that day, the floodwaters came, and people were yelling at her to get out and get in the boat outside. She had no idea what was going on. So she put on her slippers, grabbed her keys and coin purse, and stepped into the water toward the boat. One of her slippers got caught on something, and she panicked and thought she was going to drown. You can see the duplex in this picture. She had stepped off the side of her porch. You can see her white slipper underneath the gate where it got caught.

Eventually, however, she got into the boat, and they took her and others to the freeway overpass. I can't remember how long she was there before being taken to a military airplane, strapped down to the floor because there were no seats, and flown to Austin. It was those very keys (rusted and nearly ruined) that I took with me back to New Orleans and used to gain entrance to her duplex and retrieve her things.

Here are a few pictures around the block that she lived on.



I also checked on a home where Alcide Wiltz and his sister lived (a duplex). I wasn't able to get into the home because there were no keys, but I took pictures for Alcide, some of which you see here. Their home will be demolished because of the damage caused by flooding and mold. You can see the various water/sludge lines on the side of the house and the fence. The markings on the front of the house indicate when the house was checked for survivors, the deceased, and animals.

Alcide came to our church Christmas party that year and performed two songs for us: "The Lord's Prayer" and "O, Holy Night." He still lives in Austin, sharing an apartment with his mother Gertrude Clark. His sister is now living in Arkansas with their pets. They will probably never return to New Orleans.

In the midst of all this, the hymn "Where Can I Turn for Peace" came to my mind. In this last section of the blog, I'll describe our journey there and our journey back. You'll then understand when and where peace finally came.

We left for New Orleans around 7pm on Tuesday, October 4, 2005. Because of the large number of evacuees from both Hurricanes Katrina and Rita, there was no vacancy in any hotels or motels along the Gulf Coast. Beaumont had been hit hard by Hurricane Rita. So while Hurricane Katrina had destroyed everything from New Orleans east through Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida, Hurricane Rita destroyed everything east of Houston, all the way to Lafayette, Louisiana. I remember driving along I-10 in the dark, seeing billboards and trees laying on the side of the freeway. Power lines were down everywhere, and therefore, there was no electricity in most places. It's very difficult to describe the devastation everywhere. It was surreal and pretty eery, to say the least.

We ended up sleeping in the car along the side of the freeway near Orange, Texas (border of Texas and Louisiana). Everyone else had the same idea because there was nowhere else to sleep.

Fortunately, there was a gas station open just south of Baton Rouge, so we were able to fill up with gas and be on our way. I don't know if you've ever been to Louisiana, but it is filled with a bunch of water. Swamps, bayous, lakes -- water everywhere. New Orleans is basically cut off from the rest of the land (what little land there is). We arrived in New Orleans around noon on Wednesday, October 5. The scene was devastating. There were boats parked alongside the freeway overpasses, houses and apartments were off their foundations. Because the wind and water had knocked down street signs, it was difficult to tell where we were going sometimes.

Also, we had to be sure and be out of there before dark, so we left New Orleans by 5pm. The police warned us to get out of there before dark because the criminals had already started living around there again, and it would be pitch black at night because of no electricity. Plus, I think that I was the only white person around at the time, so I attracted attention. It shouldn't be like that, but it is...plain and simple.

We drove to Baton Rouge and were just plain exhausted. There was no way that I could sleep in the car again. Plus, we were disgustingly filthy from the day's work. We really needed to get cleaned up or risk getting sick. Well, being Mormon, I realized that it was a Wednesday night, and there was probably Mutual going on somewhere. If we could just find a church, we would be okay.

Before we initially left on this journey, I printed out some phone numbers of church leadership in the area, so I tried those numbers. I finally found out where the stake center was located, so we went there. Mutual was just getting over. We were saved! Lillian and her grandson stayed in my car (they were uncomfortable going in at first), while I traipsed through the hallways looking for someone who looked important. I didn't find anyone except for some boys playing basketball, so I found a bishop's office and knocked. Someone opened the door, and they were having a meeting in there, all dressed in church clothes. Oh, boy, I was a messy sight! I explained the situation, and the bishop said of course we could stay there. He said that the stake center had been a shelter for Hurricane Katrina evacuees, and there was still a ton of food in the kitchen, and there still might be a mattress and some blankets.

I went out to the car and got Lillian and her grandson. With help of another bishop, I found a mattress and blanket for them, and we set them up in a classroom. We couldn't find anything for me, but I didn't care. I was feeling so much better already. One of the bishopric members offered to put us up in his home, but Lillian just wanted to stay put in the church. So everyone else finally left, and we set out to find something to eat in the kitchen. There was so much food in there! We had a feast!

Also, because this was a stake center, there were showers in the restrooms. We took showers and had to use paper towels to dry off because our other towels got dirty. I threw away our boots, gloves, and masks, and took them outside to the dumpster. After Lillian and her grandson got settled, I decided to lie down in the Relief Society room. Lying there, even though I was uncomfortable without a blanket or pillow, I felt so taken care of. I was in the Lord's house. He knew that we were there, and He took care of us. The showers, the food, the safe place to sleep -- it was for us. In the Relief Society Room, there was a door to the outside. I opened it, and saw the most amazing view. The Baton Rouge Temple was lit up, just outside my door! Where can I turn for peace? It was all around me. The Holy Ghost was present. Comfort and peace were present.

I was having a difficult time getting to sleep, so I went to the chapel and played the piano for about an hour. Just me, the piano, and the hymn book. More peace. Finally, I felt like I could sleep, so I found a sofa just outside the stake president's office and slept there until morning. I was really cold, but I still felt very much taken care of.

Before we left for Austin, Lillian gathered some food items from the kitchen to take with her. The night before, the bishop told her to take food home with her. Also, she loved the artwork on the walls, so I took pictures of the artwork to give to her later. I also found some pass-along cards with some church artwork, which she loved! And do you know what her favorite painting was? The one of Joseph Smith in the Sacred Grove listening to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. She was a Baptist, but that was her favorite one.

We arrived back in Austin around 4pm on Thursday, October 6, and put Lillian's belongings into storage. I took Alice's items to her the next day, for which she was grateful beyond words. Alice has made it clear that when she dies, all of her historical photographs will go to me. I feel so humbled and honored for this, as well as everything that the Lord allowed me to do during this time.

Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole?

Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?
He, only One.

EDIT ADDED in 2016: I am no longer Mormon, but these fond memories of the help and comfort that we received in Baton Rouge will always remain with me. I've decided to keep the text as-is because that's what reality was at that time.