I am created Shiva, the Destroyer of worlds,
I am Talos, Lord of Destruction,
I am Megatron, the Slagmaker, the Landwaster--

I'm a redneck woman in post-ApocalypticKatrina New Orleans with a 10-lb wrecking bar in hand and walls of moldy sheetrock in front of me!

YEEEEE-HAAAWWWW!

And the walls, they come a-tumblin' down....

Apparently working in the warehouse has built up my muscles in a serious way, because I just busted sheetrock for the first time in months--and I didn't need to cut slices with a jigsaw first. I just got out the BIG wrecking bar and got medieval on the wall. There's something very satisfying about smashing things with an iron bar--it's great stress relief. I tore off big chunks of sheetrock with nothing more than a big iron pry bar and brute force--and wasn't totally exhausted when I stopped. Dripping wet, yes, but not sore and exhausted.

That should be the last of the really nasty, black-mold-covered stuff. Got some more to tear out around the front door so I can insulate there, but the nasty stuff that's been driving my allergies nuts should be out of the house tonight. Yay!

(If anyone wants to volunteer to come over and relieve some stress on sheetrock, you're welcome!)

From today's New Orleans Times-Picayune, "Hurricane Evacuation Tips" column:

"Finally, marry a man who is crazy enough to go back home armed with a shotgun before the authorities give permission to do so. This is the only way to ensure that your stuff is still there when you return, whether your house is damaged or not."

"If you are already married to a man who is not so inclined, divorce him and marry a man who was raised in a cave. It may be your only chance to survive on the West Bank post-Katrina."

I had some thoughts on reading that:

1. Word!
   
2. The key is go back early, because by the time the authorities give permission, the looters
   will have been and gone.
   
3. What do you mean, West Bank? East Bank has just as many looters.
   
4. What do you mean, man armed with a shotgun? (looks at the guns that accompanied her during evacuation and back, each one fully loaded) Col. Colt didn't make his equalizers male-only, honey.
   

...but it is nice to have a "self-reliant" man who collects guns as your true love when the shit hits the fan. It really is. Two can watch each other's backs better than one.

I find it very hard to write about our journey north. Obviously, we got somewhere, or I wouldn't be posting this--but the trip out was far tougher on body and spirit than riding out the storm was.


As mentioned previously, the daughter got off to college relatively uneventfully. My husband drove his car, and after getting everything packed up, Mom and I took her car. Well, after getting Mom packed up. If you remember, I only brought 2-3 days of clothes with, and they were getting pretty ripe now. Mom, knowing now that we were going to be gone for an indefinitely long time, packed for a rather longer trip.

The plan was to go up our usual route to Tennessee, via I-59, with my husband following in his car. I'd heard something on the radio about the eye passing over Hattiesburg, and suggested tentatively that we go up I-55 instead, as I-59 might have a few problems. However, the several hours extra that would add on to our trip caused some debate--Mom's back hurt her, and taking longer than necessary would be rough on her. So, we decided to go up I-59. We had no idea what we were getting into, and no way to find out. Only radio stations were still talking about what was going on in New Orleans; we didn't even know what path the storm had taken. No TV, no phone, no cell phones, no Internet, no information at all.

( The Search for a Road )

( The Search for Gasoline )

( The Search for a Room )

Lessons learned:

• Pine trees make lousy paving material. They are too lumpy.
  
• A good road has two clear lanes. All other attributes are luxuries.
  
• Hot water, hot food, power, and air conditioning are luxuries worth rejoicing over.
  
• Americans are too dependent on cell phones. We need more ham radio operators.
  
• Be grateful to have a bed to sleep in. Be doubly grateful if it is your own.
  

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Where do I start? The day of the storm? The day before?

We decided it was time to do something when Katrina was a Category 3 storm heading for the Lousiana coast. Originally, they'd projected its path as crossing the Panhandle of Florida,but those projections kept being revised westward and more westward, until the projected path stopped--over Jefferson Parish. Right over my house. The nightmare scenario, where hurricane-force winds push Lake Ponchatrain over the levee and into the city.


( Read more... )

Then it was time for the rest of us to pack and go.

Next episode: Pine Tree Hell

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