Paul Update
New Orleans is a very rough shape. Some short bullet updates:
– At least three neighbors (ie: in our immediate block) are moving.
– At least one major medical center (LSU) is relocating
– Winn Dixie is opening tomorrow, a day earlier than planned
– CC’s (the cafe where I like to study) has it’s wireless working, although they remain closed
As for what is going on with Paul and Alex… I am at a loss. They are exhausted, emotionally wrought, and overwhelmed. The personal loss for Alex and his family is absolutely tragic. He and Paul worked their way into the kids’ playroom today… toys, games, collectibles, wedding albums… destroyed by water and muck. They estimated that to completely clean out the first story and spray for mildew would take the two of them at least three weeks of solid work. The mold is already spreading to the ceiling. At this point, it may be a mute point. USAA, their insurance (and ours) is being horrific — to the point where Paul wants to shop around for another as soon as we are able.
When they are not working at Alex’s, they have been making rounds through the city to check and secure the homes of other friends. They also have been cleaning up our neighbors yard (Weezie and Phyllis — Weezie is the retired medical anthropologist who I hang out and paint with!) and brought their rotting fridge to the curb for pick-up. Paul has plans to replace a few shingles for another neighbor (single mom) and run a few more helpful errands for others before leaving Thursday. Alex will fly back to Phoenix and then drive back to continue work on his house. They have been taking many, many photographs, although are disappointed in them. They say that looking at one photograph does nothing to describe the chaos and destruction that is everywhere.
I don’t know if anyone reading this can appreciate the reality of this… I am not sure that I can. But to hear Paul and Alex talk of the situation — put simply, it is much, much worse they any of us realized. The longer Paul is there, the less optimistic he is. This storm has completely up-ended our lives and perminently changed our world. We honestly do not know what lies ahead.
Will-isms
“Agua” = any liquid
“Shark” = the automated pool cleaner
“Gato” = any cat (tigers included)
“Stuck” = anything he can’t open
“Need help!” = I want to do something I shouldn’t be doing
Straining grunt = how he greets anyone on the toliet
“Bye bye, do do!” = what is said when any toilet flushes
“Bubbie!” = breasts, ie: what is said when walking past ladies’ lingerie department
“Hungry!” = I’m not really hungry but I want to delay bedtime
“Eat!” = I’m ready for food
“No” = answer to statements like, “Will, it’s time to brush your teeth.”
“Golf ball” = favorite game
“Wat ap-pin?” (aka: What happened?) = Something did not just go my way
Update from Paul: On the Ground in Lakeview
Paul and friend Alex (a PhD student in my cohort, whose great kids I’ve talked about in this blog) spent yesterday working through his house in Lakeview. Lakeview is a beautiful family neighborhood in the north of the city boarding on Lake Pontchartrain. It was a top contender in our home search, ruled out only because I was so enamored with the Audubon Park area that I stubbornly refused to look outside of it. Lakeview was badly flooded by the breech of the 17th street levee, the levee that divides Orleans and Jefferish Parish on the north west side of town.
As described by Paul, the destruction in the neighborhood is beyond words. Roughly 7 feet of water engulfed Alex’s house, filling the first story. Although the second story was spared the damage of rising water, they found the front door open and the dry rooms looted. They said that the looting looked methodical, obviously took time, and had every indication of being from a relief worker or other officer; heavy boot prints fill the house where all drawers were searched, a hall safe broken open, and every small valuable carried out in a basket stolen from the front room.
They have taken hundreds of pictures, although Paul reports that they absolutely cannot do the reality justice. When combined with the smells, the heat, and the sounds, the totality of the destruction can only be realized. Little things remind you of what occurred: Alex’s house once had a back porch. It is gone, no indication of where it went, how it left their back yard, or where it now resides. A two-story staircase sits on his back fence, no idea from where it came. The piles of debris more than one can take in. They work slowly, hearing the noises of trucks, beeping of alarms, and buzzing of insects.
