Cross & Crescent

New Orleans was a city my wife and I called home for 27 months — a city we embraced from the start. It was also where my life completely changed in a matter of days due to Hurricane Katrina.

Trip to Dallas

At 4 p.m. on Friday, August 27, 2005, I was just about to leave home for a trip to Dallas to visit my old stomping grounds at Southern Methodist University and a couple of my Lambda Chi brothers.

I had the local news on when they interrupted to say Hurricane Katrina was taking a western tilt and was headed for the Florida panhandle. I was a little worried, but continued on with my weekend.

In Dallas, I tried to have a good time, but couldn’t get my mind off of the hurricane. Late Friday, I turned on the Weather Channel and learned Katrina’s track had shifted west — the bull’s eye was New Orleans.

The next morning I took the first flight back to get home, pack the car, and get out.

Returning Home to Evacuate

Fast forward to 4 a.m. on August 28. My wife and I planned to evacuate to Jackson, Mississippi, three hours north of New Orleans. The cars were packed with items we deemed important — pictures, documents, keepsakes, and wedding presents.

As I step outside in the eerie morning, lightening flashes throughout the sky and the wind flows through the air. My heart is racing as I hurry out the door, not knowing if it’s the last time I will see my house in good condition.

My wife and I caravanned through the darkness with hundreds of other cars as Hurricane Katrina continued to head straight for us. She had strengthened to a Category 5 by early Sunday morning.

I knew the scenario for New Orleans. It’s a city that resides 12 feet below sea level in many areas. If a Category 3 hurricane hit New Orleans head on, the city would be 20 feet under water. It was a scary thought; so many hurricanes had come close, but we always survived the big one. This time, however, things looked serious.

The hours passed and Katrina kept getting closer and closer to New Orleans, the inevitable was coming.

Beyond Bad

Katrina hit late Sunday night, August 28. She made a quick right turn at the last minute, avoiding a head on hit to New Orleans, and instead landed around the Mississippi Gulf Coast. We knew it was bad, but could only wonder as we waited to see footage of the destruction.

When Monday morning rolled around, Katrina reached us in Jackson, Mississippi, as a Category 2 hurricane. She knocked out power for several days, preventing us from seeing footage of the destruction. We tried frantically calling friends to make sure everyone was safe, but New Orleans cell phones were down.

Be glad you can’t watch it. It is beyond bad.

Call after call came in from friends around the country, all with the same message, “Be glad you can’t watch it. It is beyond bad.” Then came the worst news of all. The levees breached in several areas, filling the city with water. One of the levees was less than a mile from our house.

We left Jackson on Wednesday for my hometown of San Antonio. We arrived to the airport six hours early to watch TV. Image after image flashed on the screen and my heart sank.

Days ago, everything was normal in New Orleans. Now the city was beyond recognition, and it all happened in the blink of an eye.

Despair, destruction, and sorrow filled New Orleans. Thousands of people were still left in the city. It was hard for me to watch the place I call home in need of such help five days after the worst national disaster in the US.

My wife and I wondered if we had anything left. We struggled with the decision to even go back, knowing how hard it would be to live in a city we wouldn’t recognize.

Water and Tears

We decided to go back on the second day people were allowed back in Jefferson Parish, a parish located just outside New Orleans. We had a convoy of friends and a U-Haul ready to be loaded.

We passed checkpoints, helicopters hovering in the sky, and the smell of death and despair

As we drove into the city limits we passed guards at frequent checkpoints, helicopters hovering in the sky, and the smell of death and despair.

We maneuvered through downed power lines, debris, fallen trees, and flooded streets. As we turned on our street, tears started to stream down my wife’s face. When we finally made it to our house, water was still covering the street and most of our yard.

Water and mold destroyed some of our possessions, but some was recovered. Many neighbors told me they lost everything.

Upon leaving, we stopped for a second to wonder if we would ever be back. We had many friends that were lifelong residents and they lost everything. What do you do when you lose everything you have ever known?

Plans to Return

We are now living in Oklahoma City for the next seven months. I am the communications coordinator for the New Orleans/Oklahoma City Hornets and am fortunate enough to have a job after Katrina. Our plan is to go back to New Orleans next summer.

One of the main things I realized in this terrible tragedy is that New Orleans is a city that everyone loves. Stranger after stranger continue to offer sympathies and reflect upon how much they enjoyed the city.

New Orleans has a charm, character, and culture like no other. It will be a long road ahead, but I have no doubt that it will be back bigger, stronger, and better.