8 Years Ago.

Today is the twenty-ninth of August. In the year two thousand and thirteen. And as of today, it has been 8 years. And yet, the shadow still lingers. Even though, the sun shines brightly outside, as I type this entry... that shadow still lingers. If you stopped a random New Orleanian on the street, and asked them where they were when Hurricane Katrina hit, I would bet that they could tell you the story so well, you would feel like you were there. And if you were to stop any of us who lived just outside of the city, in the greater metropolitan area, I bet we could do the same. In the same way, that any American can tell you where they were on September 11, 2001. And in the same way that the older generations, can tell you where they were when President Kennedy or Dr. King were killed. It is ingrained in our memory. Life changed on those days. And I know this because, I still remember, vividly, rushing home after an overnight shift at Sam's Club. My mind was racing. I had to shower, pack whatever could fit in my pick up truck, help my father and brother put the boards on the windows, and start driving. It was an uneasy Saturday morning. Because I knew, within the next few days, a growing and impending doom would befall our beloved city.

As I packed, I remembered foolish statements from co-workers. As they replayed over and over in my head, I angrily slammed each article of clothing into my duffel bag, thinking "how can they be so stupid?!" I slammed shirts, I slammed shorts. Jeans felt my wrath, as well as socks and boxer briefs. And afterwards, I dare say, I zipped up the zipper harder than anyone ever had. And in retrospect, I should have apologized to my duffel bag, but I digress. See, I was so angry because some of the things I heard from those co-workers were, in my mind, beyond ridiculous. They were claiming how they "hope that bitch Katrina comes here, so they could have some days off." And another claimed that "nothing ever happens, when we evacuate. So they were going to stay and have a party, while all of us scary people left." And at the time, I thought to myself, either these people are ignorant about the dangers of living a city shaped like a crescent moon, surrounded by water. Or maybe they were putting up a brave front, to hide how scared they really were. Or more plainly, maybe they were in denial. But at that time, I was more hopeful, and tried to cling to the belief that there was someone "up there" that would prove me wrong. But alas, it was not to be. Mother Nature was angry, and she would not be denied. Yet, at the time I had not considered that fact. So I argued with them during our shift, begging them to leave. But they just glowingly mocked me.

And so I continued working. Trying to focus my mind on work, and not the weather. But as I was driving around on the forklift, I found myself remembering when I was younger. As a kid, I was always fascinated with the weather. So much so, my mother would jokingly refer to me as her little Bob Breck, who was (and still is) the weatherman of the local news network. Because my imagination would run away with me whenever I watched TV specials about tornadoes, and hurricanes, earthquakes, and blizzards. The awesome power of nature was both majestic and frightening to me. But on that forklift, I recalled one particular time as a kid. I was watching a special on the local news, and a much older weatherman was talking about what would happen to New Orleans, if a powerful hurricane ever came up the mouth of the Mississippi River. (Which Hurricane Katrina was first projected to do.) He then put up some pictures, on an easel. (This was before the days of great CGI, lol.) The pictures were artist renderings. And they depicted downtown New Orleans, with water rising up to the level of the rod iron balconies of the French Quarter. And the thought of water rising that high, terrified me. Because, in my young mind, I knew it was possible. In our neighborhood, (which is outside the city) which the officials once referred to as Estelle, in the small city of Marrero, if it rains steadily for a prolonged period of time, our street begins to fill with water. Then it eventually, starts coming up the driveway. But after a bit, the pumps in the area eventually catch up, and drain the water away. But I always feared what would happen if the pumps never caught up.

And with all of this swirling around my head, concentrating on work, was becoming more and more difficult. I then began to remember the stories my mother would tell me as a kid, about their experiences with hurricanes when they were living in their birthplace, the island of Guanaja, which is known to the locals as Bonacca. Back in the days before many would heed the weather systems that were able to or could warn them. The worst of them, I believe, being Hurricane FiFi in 1974. Then I also recalled the agony I felt over seeing the images on TV when Guanaja was again battered in 1998 during the onslaught of Hurricane Mitch. I remembered my mother telling me the stories my aunt had told her, after we were finally able to regain contact with them. She described how horrible the noise was from the wind was. How the pressure was so intense that their ears popped, and eventually the windows in the house blew out. How the wind would pick up the waves of the sea, and carry them like sheets of water and slam it into the sides of the house. And two years later, my mom would travel to Guanaja, and she said that the island looked almost completely devoid of vegetation still. No palm trees, no grass. Just bare mud and rocks. A waterfall that was once hidden in the greens of the mountain was now visible from miles out. It was a sad state. And this was two years later. Thankfully, the island has long since recovered. But it was truly horrific. As it was on the mainland of Honduras as well. Mudslides buried whole shanty towns, and the volcanic mud was so thick, the bodies were never recovered.

After remembering all of this, I had some frightening idea of what damage a hurricane like Katrina could do. So after I got home finally, and we made our final preparations, we left soon afterwards. Headed towards a Motel 6 in Port Arthur, Texas. And I don't remember exactly what time we arrived. But the sun was still up. And we got to the motel and settled in, and tried to occupy ourselves to keep our minds off of the storm. We tried to get in contact with some of our friends and relatives to see where they were heading. A few were headed our way. But many more, went elsewhere. And many of them were stuck in traffic for over 12 hours. Some even 24 hours. And I remember that I fell asleep that evening (Saturday the 27th), after being tired from driving and working overnight. When I woke up, it was in the early, early hours of Sunday (the 28th) and I remember cutting on the news, and seeing the update that said: "Katrina Now A Category 5." And suddenly, the magnitude of everything had hit me. I began to cry. And I mean, CRY. Because I knew, if a Category 5 went up the mouth of the river, there would be nothing left for us to call home.

The rest of that Sunday is kind of a blur now. And Monday was the day. The 29th. Katrina made landfall. And as fate would have it, the storm shifted ever so slightly, leaving the worst part of the storm (to the east of the eye wall) bearing down on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Whose suffering and destruction is largely overlooked, but just as monumental as the city of New Orleans. But the news footage began to filter in, and the scale of the horror was soon apparent. But all these years later, I try not to think about that as much. Because our family was unbelievably lucky. We live on the West Bank of the river, so we largely suffered some wind and rain that left superficial damage. But we had a home to return to after spending many months with our beloved family down in Port Isabel, Texas. Which is close to both South Padre Island and Brownsville, Texas. And we finally returned home, and have thankfully been here ever since.

But my point in writing all of this, is that while the shadow of Katrina still lingers, New Orleans is alive and well. There are still some parts of the city where the ruined homes still stand. Boarded up and covered in mildew, but the city still breathes. There are some areas that seem kind of desolate, because the residents haven't returned, but the grass and trees still grow. The streets still hum with traffic, and you can still hear the sounds of live music in the French Quarter. Unfortunately, the city still has to deal with the violence of criminals, just like it did before the storm. But it seems like many in the city are determined to not let them ruin our great city. You can still see people everywhere decked out in their New Orleans Saints gear on Sundays during the season. The city still swells with tourists for things like Jazz & Heritage Festival, the Essence Music Festival, Voodoo Music + Arts Experience, Mardi Gras, and all of the major events. Like earlier this year, in February, when the city hosted the NFL Super Bowl. And just next year, in 2014, the city will host both the NBA All-Star Game as well as WWE Wrestlemania XXX. Which proves that New Orleans is still the place to be. A place where people of all walks of life come to let their hair down and celebrate life.

And those who live in the city, and those of us who live around the city are extremely proud of what we consider our hometown of New Orleans. The corruption and the crime may unfortunately make the headlines; but, it is the character and the culture that keep many here, and in the great state of Louisiana for generations. And though the city still bears her scars from Katrina, New Orleans is actually flourishing while so many cities in the country are bearing the brunt of the recession gripping the country. And even years later, after the BP Oil Spill threatened the Gulf Coast region again, there is just something inside of southern people that just won't be kept down. And I can easily say that I am proud to call this place my home. And no matter what happens... come hell or literal high water, as long as there is place to come back to, I will always consider the New Orleans area my home. And it is where I will always lay my head.

So while Katrina's shadow may still linger, many of us here just choose to use it for a little bit of shade. After all, the summer heat and humidity here in Louisiana can be brutal, lol.

Long Live New Orleans
Long Live The Great State Of Louisiana

Thank you all for reading this.

For further information on how Hurricane Katrina affected New Orleans
I personally recommend these great documentaries:

Available on DVD and on Netflix,
is a film by Harry Shearer called
The Big Uneasy.
It depicts, in vivid detail, just exactly how the levees failed the city.
And sets of to prove that while Katrina was a natural disaster, what happened to the city of New Orleans was truly a man made disaster. The film features first hand accounts of many members of the scientific community whose published reports ironically drew the ire of the local government.
You view a clip here.

Available on Netflix:
Frontline: Law & Disorder
is a film released as part of a documentary series made by PBS.
This particular film depicts in great detail the many scandals that rocked the New Orleans Police Department in the days immediately following the storm. When things in the city were spiraling out of control. And the film sets out to show that despite the actions of looters, those who sworn to serve and protect, ended up becoming a bigger problem than the flood waters.
You view a clip here.

Available on DVD, Netflix, and online,
is a film by famed director, Spike Lee.
When The Levees Broke: A Requiem In Four Acts
Parts I and II can be viewed here.
Parts III and IV can be viewed here.
The documentary is based on news video footage and still photos of Katrina and its aftermath, interspersed with interviews. Interviewees include politicians, journalists, historians, engineers, and many residents of various parts of New Orleans and the surrounding areas, who give first hand accounts of their experiences with the levee failures and the aftermath.
Years later, Spike Lee released an documentary updating the stories featured in this film, with a brand new documentary entitled, If God Is Willing And Da Creek Don't Rise.

Available online,
is a film from the BBC documentary series, Horizon called:
Horizon: The Lost City Of New Orleans
The full documentary can be viewed here.
Modern day New Orleans was a city that defied the odds. Built on a mosquito-infested swamp surrounded by water, it sits in a bowl 2.5m below sea-level. Its very existence seemed proof of the triumph of engineering over nature. But on the 29 August 2005 the city took a direct hit from Hurricane Katrina and overnight turned into a Venice from hell. In the chaos that followed the worst natural disaster in American history, a forensic investigation has begun to find out what went wrong and why. Scientists are now confronting the real possibility that New Orleans may be the first of many cities to face extinction.

Available on DVD and online,
is a film from the National Geographic Channel documentary series called:
Inside Hurricane Katrina
The full documentary can be viewed here.
From the creators of critically acclaimed Inside 9/11 comes another powerful journalistic account, Inside Hurricane Katrina. Go beyond the round-the-clock news coverage for a comprehensive look behind the devastation caused by nature's fury and human error. How did this happen? Can it happen again? Why weren't emergency personnel fully ready to respond to a real disaster? Using comprehensive analysis of events, hours of government audio tapes, and personal interviews, National Geographic takes viewers into the eye of Katrina to uncover the decisions and circumstances that determined the fate of the Gulf residents.