Sunday Part I
How to describe at the end of the day today. Stunned.
I feel I'm someone who had a good grasp of the situation in New Orleans post-Katrina, but the enormity of the disaster is far greater than I thought. Considering that about 70 percent of this city took water, a majority of its residents have not returned, businesses are not open and most neighborhoods are ghost towns, driving through blighted areas is a troubling and confusing experience. You bombard yourself with questions: Why is it still like this eight months later? Where is everybody? Why is there no clean-up? My guess is that answer lies in the vortex of government beauocracy, insurance company inertia, economic turmoil and also: Where you do you start?
Ken and Denise took us on the "slum tour." We visited Lakeview, Gentilly, the Lower Ninth Ward, from the middle class enclaves to the poorest area of town. All got hit bad. There are common sights: uprooted trees, overturned cars, buildings with spraypaint markings, messages scrawled on the fronts of homes and commercial buildings with such messages as:
"Michael Where Are You?"
"Help Help Help Help"
"1 Cat 1 Goldfish petfinder.com"
"Broken Dreams"
"Dog inside"
"Next time we'll vote for someone who cares"
Trash is everywhere, the doors to homes are left open, stray dogs wander, streetlights (some) do not work, traffic lights (some) the same. It is difficult not to be moved because the strains of human stores are everywhere. People lived in these neighborhoods, ate here, went to school here, etc. And now, everyone's gone.
I'm lucky I'm not in the FEMA camp. Here's where I'm staying, the lovely Reyes home.
That's Ken on the front porch. We drove through neighborhoods and visited their last home, now owned by their son. The home took water on the first floor and they brought it down to the studs.
Here's Ken on the second floor where they had a renter. She left many months ago and left her stuff behind.
Here's the home of their neighbor across the street. A couple that considered their cats their only children, they stayed until the bitter end. Check out the hole in the attic where rescuers saved the cats upstairs.
Here's the home of someone they know: An engineer who, with his own funds, raised his home by 14 feet. There is nothing short of curiosities in this place.
We drove through Lakeview. Here's a typical empty street.
No one lives here either. Except whoever go the FEMA trailer parked in their front yard. That's temporary home for many people here.
We also visited where one of the levee breaks occured. Here are the homes that are obviously unsavable. The levee was in their backyard, the water claimed the neighborhood.
I feel I'm someone who had a good grasp of the situation in New Orleans post-Katrina, but the enormity of the disaster is far greater than I thought. Considering that about 70 percent of this city took water, a majority of its residents have not returned, businesses are not open and most neighborhoods are ghost towns, driving through blighted areas is a troubling and confusing experience. You bombard yourself with questions: Why is it still like this eight months later? Where is everybody? Why is there no clean-up? My guess is that answer lies in the vortex of government beauocracy, insurance company inertia, economic turmoil and also: Where you do you start?
Ken and Denise took us on the "slum tour." We visited Lakeview, Gentilly, the Lower Ninth Ward, from the middle class enclaves to the poorest area of town. All got hit bad. There are common sights: uprooted trees, overturned cars, buildings with spraypaint markings, messages scrawled on the fronts of homes and commercial buildings with such messages as:
"Michael Where Are You?"
"Help Help Help Help"
"1 Cat 1 Goldfish petfinder.com"
"Broken Dreams"
"Dog inside"
"Next time we'll vote for someone who cares"
Trash is everywhere, the doors to homes are left open, stray dogs wander, streetlights (some) do not work, traffic lights (some) the same. It is difficult not to be moved because the strains of human stores are everywhere. People lived in these neighborhoods, ate here, went to school here, etc. And now, everyone's gone.
I'm lucky I'm not in the FEMA camp. Here's where I'm staying, the lovely Reyes home.
That's Ken on the front porch. We drove through neighborhoods and visited their last home, now owned by their son. The home took water on the first floor and they brought it down to the studs.
Here's Ken on the second floor where they had a renter. She left many months ago and left her stuff behind.
Here's the home of their neighbor across the street. A couple that considered their cats their only children, they stayed until the bitter end. Check out the hole in the attic where rescuers saved the cats upstairs.
Here's the home of someone they know: An engineer who, with his own funds, raised his home by 14 feet. There is nothing short of curiosities in this place.
We drove through Lakeview. Here's a typical empty street.
No one lives here either. Except whoever go the FEMA trailer parked in their front yard. That's temporary home for many people here.
We also visited where one of the levee breaks occured. Here are the homes that are obviously unsavable. The levee was in their backyard, the water claimed the neighborhood.
posted by burningsun | 12:34 AM
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