Cold Spaghetti

Based on the information we’re pulling together, we are quite confident that our home has not flooded. That said, we’ve heard that the Whole Foods store, one block up from our house, lost its roof in the storm. There are rumors that this store has been looted — but these are not confirmed. If looting rumors are true, this is very scary — our street is the most direct route between the back of Whole Foods (ie: where the grocery carts are located) and Winn-Dixie, which is in a shopping center along the Mississippi River about 4 blocks down from our house. So, following logic… we are concerned that looters, squatters, and others without the best intentions may be helping themselves to our beloved home.

We are sad, frustrated, and conflicted. What’s the bigger crime, a hundred plus years of institutionalized racism or looting of the few safe places left in the city? It is difficult to think about what may be happening to our home, but within the context that those who may be invading it are the ones who were offered no recourse to leave, whose homes are the most affected by the storm, and who ultimately stand the most to loose. What a tremendous challenge.

We survived the storm in Mobile. Heavy winds, trees down, signs mangled, and the like. But best guess is that the winds did not top more than 70-80 mph (with higher gusts). The big news in Mobile was the surge and the effects it had on the area around Mobile Bay. That oil rig that slammed into the Cochran-Africatown bridge… yeah, we have some intimate knowledge of that debacle, but that story will have to wait.

With the news that power was likely to be out for weeks, and Paul’s precious vacation time slipping away, we decided to set off for Jacksonville, Florida, to the home of my brother and sister-in-law. We left around noon and made the 430 mile trip in about 7 hours. The most interesting part: seeing dozens of convoys heading in the other directions… tree removal crews, search and rescue hauling boats and ATVs, and many, many power vehicles.

About an hour after our warm welcome in Jacksonville, we got the call from Mom. Miracle of miracles… the power is back in Mobile. Paul is anxious to go back and settle back into a routine, so I think we may be truckin’ back tomorrow. To say that Will has been incredible is the world’s biggest understatement. It is impossible to not feel blessed when he is around.

However, being here tonight has allowed us our first exposure to the visual impact of our city. It is one thing to be contemplating the complete loss of property — but to pile on that the loss of neighborhood, community, livelihood, and city… that is overwhelming.

Quick bullets of where we stand:
— Our home sits in some of the highest ground in the city. We do not think we have experienced flooding.
— We have no idea of wind damage. While it is possible that we remained dry in terms of flooding, it is also quite possible we lost all or part of our roof, several windows, or both.
— “Looting” in our neighborhood is a possibility. We live between two major grocery stores, across the street from some upscale, newly built homes. That said, I feel that the little I’ve heard about the New Orleans looting situation has a strong racist undertone that makes me ill, so I’m trying to steer clear of that type of talk at present.
— I still hold my crush for Mayor Nagin and my fondest for Mary Landrieu. Governor Blanco is worthless.
— We do not expect to go back for weeks. Months, maybe? And are, frankly, terrified and overwhelmed.

My deepest thanks to those who have been following the news, trying to contact us, and taking this as seriously as those of us who are living it. It means the world and is what is keeping us going. We are trying to remain upbeat and focusing on how thankful we are.

Please keep your thoughts coming our way. We love seeing the blog comments. Also, you can reach us at coldspaghetti@gmail.com . We anticipate having power and regular phone and internet once we arrive back in Mobile.

It’s 9:47 — the rain is just starting to pick up, but is still not unusual. No lightening, no thunder. Little to no wind. It is very, very humid out — otherwise, it is actually pleasant. About an hour ago I went out and brought in the front door welcome mat… and almost wanted to go for a walk because it was such a nice evening (I actually like humid nights.)

Of course, we aren’t expecting this to last. Current news is that Katrina has actually shifted a bit to the east — a bit better for NOLA, but puts us a little more in the danger zone. We’ve got the hurricane lamps, candles, hand-held battery-run tv/radio, flashlights, and batteries gathered. We’ll fill up bathtubs. The news and weather is on constantly… I am going to try to get Paul to play a game of Scrabble with me. Will and I played fuzz-ball, pinball, and golf all evening. He seems blissfully unaware of any danger, so we must be doing a good job of sending out positive messages.

Some comic relief. Discussing the potential challenges in front of us, I said, “Jeez, with this, we’ll have gone through just about everything challenge a marriage can face, short of one of us dying.” Without missing a beat, Paul said, “You mean you’re having an affair?!” He always knows how to make me laugh.

We will post as we can.

Look down the other side of our street. Only two houses here had closed shutters when we left on Saturday afternoon. (We left at 4pm.) 

Looking down our street before we left on Saturday. At the time this picture was taken, neighbors were closing their shutters — but not leaving. We’ve since learned that everyone (with the exception of the physicians on-call) had left. 

Our house: boarded up before we left. About half of the windows on each side have shutters that are closed. Paul moved shutters to the windows that are the most exposed.  

With heavy hearts, we are bracing for the storm. We think we will be safe here — it’s high ground, and as far west and north we can be and still be in Mobile County. It will definitely be a rough 24 hours and we are expecting power outtages, no water, and are preparing accordingly.

Personally, I am no longer able to stomache the weather news — although I admit the science and mystery of the power of nature periodically draws me back. The thoughts in my head are consuming and sad. There are so many little things that I wish I would have grabbed… two paintings by Paul’s grandmother (we took one, but reasoned the others would be protected.) Two figurines by my grandmother. A few pieces of silver that were Paul’s great-grandmothers. I don’t know how I will forgive myself if those things are lost. Granted, I am so happy that I managed to pack up other things (Paul’s first anniversary present to me, our wedding pictures, some family pictures and two paintings, a porcelain shoe that was my great-grandmother’s.) The things I took were out and about in the house — I was worried that wind coming in a broken window would damage them. Other things I took down from walls and put in drawers or closets. I thought even if we lost part of the roof, I would still be coming back to something and these things would be protected. Now, I am not so sure.

And more than my personal concerns, I cannot stop thinking about the thousands that cannot leave the city. We were shocked that the Major issued a mandatory evacuation. It’s well known in New Orleans that the city would not (we thought ever) issue this type of evacuation — simply because it did not have the infrastructure to help aid in getting out the people who have no means of leaving. It is speculated that the Superdome, now a huge shelter, may not hold up to the winds that will threaten it in a few hours. The possible reality is too terrible for me to seriously consider in this moment.

I thank those who have sent kind words and hope that they will continue. Chances are, we may need to rely heavily on those around us very soon.

We made it back to Mobile, safe and sound. We packed up the cats, some valuables, a few paintings by our grandmothers, and some other heirloom items that would be mourned in the event of a disaster. Paul tied down the shutters in the front of the house and had plywood on hand to cover the front door once we secured the inside. All the outside shutters are closed, plants are down, swing and trash cans locked in the outbuilding, etc. The house is as ready as we could make it.

Traffic was relatively light getting out of town. The slowdowns we had were actually related to news crews on the side of the road (!) and police direction of traffic to *increase* the lanes into the medians. Yes, widening lanes apparently slows down traffic! From the lines that were starting, I think we got out just in time to meet the rush. And *I* got to town just in the nick of time — a few hours later and they closed the roads to only go “out”, not “in”.

The strangest thing is that you would never know that anything was happening in New Orleans. A few homes are boarded up, a few people are getting in cars to go, but generally, folks were just out walking and shopping and going about daily lives. Granted, there weren’t as many people out doing those things, but enough to make us feel a bit silly. It’s an odd feeling: you don’t want your efforts to be for a non-event (like last time), yet you don’t want all your efforts to be in vain.

I’ll post pictures of the house secured later tonight! But the bottom line is that we are okay!

From the National Hurricane Center discussion on Hurricane Katrina, 10am CDT:

...IT IS NOT OUT OF THE QUESTION THAT KATRINA COULD
REACH CATEGORY 5 STATUS AT SOME POINT BEFORE LANDFALL.

So Katrina is looking bad for us in the Big Easy. Some thoughts.

Our house is actually above sea level, and in its hundred years, it has never flooded. This somewhat puts us at ease… in the sense that, if our house were to flood, it would basically be the least of our problems. You can see a good discussion on the possibility of New Orleans flooding here. And here, you can scroll down to an elevation map of New Orleans (it’s the fourth graphic going down on the page). Where will live according to the elevation map: in the “U” shaped curve along the Mississippi (hence our nickname the “Crescent City”) — inside this “U” to the left is a large blank area with no roads. This is Audubon Park. We live a few blocks of the park, about 5 blocks from the docks on the Mississippi. In other words, we’re actually on some of the highest land in the city and are definitely above sea level.

From the discussion on flooding, the issue is that a storm from the south or southeast would push water from Lake Pontchartrain (a huge, shallow body of water just north of the city) over the north leeves and into the city, filling the its interior “bowl.” (And not ironically, some of the poorest, most vulnerable, parts of the city.)

Our concerns in terms of evacuation are related to city infrastructure. Getting in or out would be impossible: the roads and bridges to leave the city would be flooded. Without question, there would be no power, and probably no water, for days — maybe weeks. It would take a long time for the city to recover. Other concerns (and why Paul is hestitant to leave) are that if water somehow gets into our house through the eaves or a crack in a window somewhere, the water would sit in our house for a long time until we came back to find it and start clean-up. But if this *is* that every 100 years type of storm, there isn’t much we can do about it.

And finally, logistics. Will and I are actually in Mobile right now. Paul was doing some very messy work with the door frames this weekend and we left yesterday. I would have to go back to New Orleans and get Paul… and then leave the city. We haven’t made any decisions yet on what we are doing.