This morning, when I turned on my computer and opened up my browser, I saw the headline "Hurricane Katrina: Ten Years Later." Instantly, the post I intended to write changed. Known to most as "The Big Easy" or the "crescent city," I think of New Orleans and I think, "Grandma's house."
My first reaction to the headline was, "Has it only been ten years?" So much has happened since then. Then memories flooded my mind of events from the days following the storm. After that, the storm's date filtered through my subconscious and I thought, "That SOB did marry me for money! He started looking to leave me almost right away after my great aunt left her millions to her caretaker." I did some quick mental calculations... September 2008 (the divorce he pushed on me was finalized)... November 2007 (I found him with the other woman in the back seat of our new car. Then, sometime between finding them together and mid-December, he accused me of marrying him for money, which is utterly ridiculous given the circumstances and a clear projection of one of their motives)... October 2006 (he changed jobs to the firm where he met her), and August 29, 2005 - Hurricane Katrina. Yep. The timeline fits.
Sigh. Oh, well. Nobody can change the past. My thoughts turned back to family events immediately following the disaster. My grandparents, thank goodness, were not around for the hurricane. If they had been, they would likely have stayed in their Kenner home for its duration. Grandma might even have left Grandpa there and decided to ride out the storm with her sister in their mother's house. (My great grandmother willed her house to Aunt Geri.) But both of my grandparents passed well before the storm hit, so that is not what happened.
Instead, Aunt Geri had a caretaker living with her. He was awful, if you ask me. She'd found him through a friend of hers after my grandmother passed. (Grandma lived with her sister after Grandpa died in 1997 and until her own demise in the later 1990's... Maybe 1998 or 99?) This man moved in with our aunt and did his caretaking job well enough (from all reports), but he was very resistant to allowing any of the family to visit with our aunt. He did let my dad see her, but Dad only flew down for a visit about twice a year and if Dad had not been allowed access, the three brothers together could have taken legal action. So it was in the caretaker's best interests to not deny my dad his biannual visits. Dad's two brothers, though, live right outside of New Orleans and I remember them complaining quite bitterly about being denied access to our aunt.
Awful though he was, this caretaker insisted Aunt Geri follow the advice of officials and leave her home during the storm. His determination saved their lives. Take a look at the flood map.
Now look where my great-grandmother's house is.
Her house was under water.
My mom, of course, was the hub of all the news so I accessed her for updates. Aunt Geri and her caretaker were safe and in a hotel near the Superdome, along with the mayor and other important people. My uncle, the doctor, was required to stay and help but he had sent his family to safety in central Mississippi before the storm. I think he wound up just living in the hospital for a while. My other uncle, the engineer, had some of his wife's family and several co-workers staying in his home. There was no city power in his area (north of the river) for several days but he had a generator so was fine.
The big concern was my great aunt because she was elderly, frail and in a bad location and communications were outbound only and spotty. Then all the communications with her stopped. Her caretaker would not answer the phone. The last time anyone (which means Mom, since my parents' number was the only one he would answer) talked to him, he had mentioned something about leaving the hotel to head elsewhere. Then he and my aunt just disappeared. I am not sure where they went, but it was a few weeks before they resurfaced. When they did, they could not return to my aunt's house because of the damage. So they moved in with "a friend," but we were not told who and we were not told where the friend lived. So nobody could check in on my aunt to see how she was doing.
At the time, my family (husband, 2 children and myself) was living in central Texas. My son, 19 years old, heard that there was good paying reconstruction work in the outskirts of New Orleans and decided with a friend of his to go in search of it. I offered to drive them down so I could try to see my aunt. I always visited her when I went to New Orleans and I hadn't seen her for a number of years because it was such a long drive for us, so I figured her caretaker would let me visit for a few minutes. He refused.
I did drive by her house, though. The whole area was a mess. I was so glad my dad was not there to see the street he grew up on. Even weeks later, it was heartbreaking. All I remember now was that there were cars pulled up onto the boulevard median, brush and debris was everywhere (a big pile sat in front of my aunt's house), and all the houses had large, painted circles drawn on their sides with two numbers and a slash in them. My uncle later told me the numbers were "how many residents" over "how many dead found." (I'm glad I didn't know that before I went.)
Because Aunt Geri's caretaker would not let me see her and I complained to my mother about it (my mom even coached me on what to say to try to get him to let me visit), my dad took action. He arranged a flight for himself to go for a visit. My aunt was dead and buried (without notice to our family) before he got there.
We do know that Aunt Geri survived the flood, though. Between my visit and her funeral, my uncle the doctor got to see her in the hospital for a few minutes after the amputation of her legs. (She was a career dancer.) Unfortunately, he was unable to find out where she was living and she disappeared again when her caretaker took her. She died in a "friend's" house, only a few miles away from the generational family home where she resided for over half a century.
Ten years ago today, my family was together and my great aunt was alive. Is ten years all it's been? That seems so long ago. Doesn't it?
Do you remember Hurricane Katrina? What are some of your memories?
My first reaction to the headline was, "Has it only been ten years?" So much has happened since then. Then memories flooded my mind of events from the days following the storm. After that, the storm's date filtered through my subconscious and I thought, "That SOB did marry me for money! He started looking to leave me almost right away after my great aunt left her millions to her caretaker." I did some quick mental calculations... September 2008 (the divorce he pushed on me was finalized)... November 2007 (I found him with the other woman in the back seat of our new car. Then, sometime between finding them together and mid-December, he accused me of marrying him for money, which is utterly ridiculous given the circumstances and a clear projection of one of their motives)... October 2006 (he changed jobs to the firm where he met her), and August 29, 2005 - Hurricane Katrina. Yep. The timeline fits.
 |
| My great grandmother's house |
Instead, Aunt Geri had a caretaker living with her. He was awful, if you ask me. She'd found him through a friend of hers after my grandmother passed. (Grandma lived with her sister after Grandpa died in 1997 and until her own demise in the later 1990's... Maybe 1998 or 99?) This man moved in with our aunt and did his caretaking job well enough (from all reports), but he was very resistant to allowing any of the family to visit with our aunt. He did let my dad see her, but Dad only flew down for a visit about twice a year and if Dad had not been allowed access, the three brothers together could have taken legal action. So it was in the caretaker's best interests to not deny my dad his biannual visits. Dad's two brothers, though, live right outside of New Orleans and I remember them complaining quite bitterly about being denied access to our aunt.
Awful though he was, this caretaker insisted Aunt Geri follow the advice of officials and leave her home during the storm. His determination saved their lives. Take a look at the flood map.
 |
| Katrina Flooding |
Now look where my great-grandmother's house is.
 |
| My great-grandmother's house |
Her house was under water.
My mom, of course, was the hub of all the news so I accessed her for updates. Aunt Geri and her caretaker were safe and in a hotel near the Superdome, along with the mayor and other important people. My uncle, the doctor, was required to stay and help but he had sent his family to safety in central Mississippi before the storm. I think he wound up just living in the hospital for a while. My other uncle, the engineer, had some of his wife's family and several co-workers staying in his home. There was no city power in his area (north of the river) for several days but he had a generator so was fine.
The big concern was my great aunt because she was elderly, frail and in a bad location and communications were outbound only and spotty. Then all the communications with her stopped. Her caretaker would not answer the phone. The last time anyone (which means Mom, since my parents' number was the only one he would answer) talked to him, he had mentioned something about leaving the hotel to head elsewhere. Then he and my aunt just disappeared. I am not sure where they went, but it was a few weeks before they resurfaced. When they did, they could not return to my aunt's house because of the damage. So they moved in with "a friend," but we were not told who and we were not told where the friend lived. So nobody could check in on my aunt to see how she was doing.
At the time, my family (husband, 2 children and myself) was living in central Texas. My son, 19 years old, heard that there was good paying reconstruction work in the outskirts of New Orleans and decided with a friend of his to go in search of it. I offered to drive them down so I could try to see my aunt. I always visited her when I went to New Orleans and I hadn't seen her for a number of years because it was such a long drive for us, so I figured her caretaker would let me visit for a few minutes. He refused.
I did drive by her house, though. The whole area was a mess. I was so glad my dad was not there to see the street he grew up on. Even weeks later, it was heartbreaking. All I remember now was that there were cars pulled up onto the boulevard median, brush and debris was everywhere (a big pile sat in front of my aunt's house), and all the houses had large, painted circles drawn on their sides with two numbers and a slash in them. My uncle later told me the numbers were "how many residents" over "how many dead found." (I'm glad I didn't know that before I went.)
Because Aunt Geri's caretaker would not let me see her and I complained to my mother about it (my mom even coached me on what to say to try to get him to let me visit), my dad took action. He arranged a flight for himself to go for a visit. My aunt was dead and buried (without notice to our family) before he got there.
We do know that Aunt Geri survived the flood, though. Between my visit and her funeral, my uncle the doctor got to see her in the hospital for a few minutes after the amputation of her legs. (She was a career dancer.) Unfortunately, he was unable to find out where she was living and she disappeared again when her caretaker took her. She died in a "friend's" house, only a few miles away from the generational family home where she resided for over half a century.
Ten years ago today, my family was together and my great aunt was alive. Is ten years all it's been? That seems so long ago. Doesn't it?
Do you remember Hurricane Katrina? What are some of your memories?
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