Katrina is a Whore

Two days after Hurricane Katrina hit landfall, I found myself in a car headed for Dallas to catch a redirected flight out to Baltimore, in hopes of making my dear friend Russ and Katherine's wedding. My flight was originally booked out of New Orleans. But that was obviously cancelled.

The wedding was great. I flew back to Dallas. And drove back to Baton Rouge. And just when you think the horrors of this whole ordeal have stopped unfolding, reality proves you wrong yet again.

And that is what is scary. Reality. Watching the images on the news always carries with it an element of surrealness. Or at least of safety. You can watch the images from the comforts of your living room and know that what is going on is miles away and will only affect you economically and surely emotionally. And that element of surrealness and safety quickly vaporated as I drove in past the mile long stretch of military convoys heading into my city. And on the way out was bus after bus after bus after ambulance after ambulance. Things got more somber as we approached.

My driving comrad, Laura, and I stopped just before Baton Rouge to fill up on gas. Port Allen is just on the other side of the river, probably 2 miles from Baton Rouge proper. The gas station was a zoo. Packed to the gills with trucks and military personnel and vans and trailers with families and children running around everywhere. We were notified earlier on the phone from a friend that most gas stations are closed in the area. They have simply run out of gas. And the ones that still have some are packed. It took a friend of ours 45 minutes to get her tank filled. We heard that another woman waited over 2 hours for hers.

And then the reports of the crime increase started hitting our ears. The poverty of New Orleans has directly influxed into Baton Rouge, doubling our entire city population over night. And the poverty and reputation of New Orleans has now been substituted to us in Baton Rouge. We heard on the news of several hold ups in convenience stores already. And with the gaurantee of crime increasing, as well as the gas prices, mixed with the overloaded traffic and all around chaos, you begin to get the feeling that the entire world is unraveling.

As for me, the hurricane has indirectly left me homeless. My roommate works for an energy company that had assigned him to track the telephone poles in the area. Katrina chewed up most of those telephone poles, which meant that the project for my roommate was officially cancelled and they are transferring him to another city in Louisiana. Which means I need to move out this week lest I pay for a whole month of rent by myself. So that process will begin today.

When I first saw the large, red, ominous donut filling the Gulf on those satellite images, I had no idea what it was capable of. I had no clue that it would be this bad, that it would decimate an entire city and its surrounding neighborhoods on the coast line. Down the street from me there is a big dumpster that faces the traffic with a spray painted message on it that reads, "Katrina is a whore." I agree.