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Hurricane Rita: A Daily Journal - continued
Barb Dorrington

Wednesday September 28/05

We spent most of the day at Levi today, as this is the shelter with the most needs. At some point, we did want to go to Lackland, especially to have a chance to meet Terry’s grandparents but we realized that a decision had to be made because going to both places was tiring and if we were totally exhausted, we wouldn’t be much use to anyone. Every day seems to be like a new day at the shelter and the Rita people at the shelter are just now getting their contacts made with FEMA. Some of the evacuees are becoming volunteers at the shelter, commissioned to play ball outside with the kids or just spend some time playing. Really none of the kids in this shelter are in school so Barbi was very happy when we showed up at the shelter early today, even though she wanted a break from her kids, she came to the table and stayed close. I notice that the parents really like us seeing the children but we need to be visible to them. They especially like us taking pictures because it is quite possible for those with flood and severe wind damage not to have any salvageable pictures remaining. Barbi proudly announced that she was a quilter and her mandala was beautifully colored and very well done.

We learned quickly this morning that there was now a volunteer coordinator named Claire and after meeting her, we both realized that she was keen to organize things for everyone and that she was the one behind recruiting some evacuees to help those just coming in. People are still coming in by the busload, so the numbers seem to be going up even though people also leave. One family strolled by (we worked to the side of the main room today where all the beds and families are) and told part of their story and said that as a family of nine (at least three children and one very elderly woman who was wheelchair bound) had all sought shelter in a small closet in their home in Orange and their house literally came down around them. In their area, it had been tornadoes and there had been no water. The mother mentioned that she had been keeping a journal and said we could come looking for her to read her first account story. James, the man who does great cartoons worked on some more cartoon art today and showed a sense of humor by drawing one of the volunteers as to how he might look twenty years later. James brought his wife Ashley to the table as their young baby slept and she finally started talking (she had avoided us until now) about how a tree fell on their truck and they lost all their possessions that they had tried to save. Ashley was relieved that her mother had the first oil painting she ever created because that would have been lost too. Ashley and James both talked about how they would give advice to someone else that you need to get to a safe place sooner, or at least prepare sooner if you intend to stay.

The medical team was in more evidence today and looked more organized. There was a different, almost more comfortable mood for the evacuees too---lots of phones in the phone room to call local and long distance numbers, lots of new clothes like socks and shirts, free bus rides every hour to downtown or to the Wal-Mart. There was also more security today with police officers at the door with metal detectors. It is so easy for Barb and I to get in with our BFCS volunteer badges because no questions asked. The head of the medical team knows us now and may send us more people to talk to and we will, as if there isn’t enough work, but it is good work. I wish we had more time for one on one and we have been trying that by going to the beds or “homes” of people and chatting. Sarah, with husband James and baby Mia were doing well and she did find out her mom and dad were safe…I got the biggest hug ever… she was thrilled and by the end of the day, started to help us manage the art table. Another helper, Jared, works for a local radio station and drew cartoon like characters for many kids…they were lightening up today…more laughs…more jokes…more settled.

Toward the end of our day, Vicky, a single lady in her thirties came by to draw. She started to work on a mandala but wanted instead to do a big thank you card for the fire fighters (you can tell them because they all wear fairly heavy green pants). She came from Beaumont and ended up leaving in the middle of the night to Ford Park, supposedly a shelter about an hour away …and it took 10-1/2 hours to get there that night. As she talked, a loud siren went off for at least ten minutes…but she never really missed a beat…just kept talking about how she was desperate to go to the bathroom and didn’t want to end up on the highway having to go in front of all the other cars. So many other people have talked about being turned away in shelters or makeshift shelters and were placed back on the road again, some without fuel.

One of the other people I talked to today was a Red Cross volunteer and she took me to a quiet room deep in the factory. There she let out her story about how she had been working for a month without relief and how she hated how people were divided by FEMA and Red Cross as either “Katrina people” or “Rita people.” After she finished talking, we came out and saw David (the man who was on the bus for five days) and she said she knew where he could get a part-time job and moving cars up for auction. He was thrilled and seemed to appreciate the help.

Barb and I are doing a debriefing with three staff members tomorrow. We were also asked by Claire, the volunteer coordinator to develop a protocol for the “listeners”-- people who are coming from the church and want to do some good by just listening. Boy, there are so few people to just listen, so this is our protocol so far.

After that, it is way past bedtime. Goodnight.

One more thought. It is so hard to know what is the right or wrong thing to do for questions beyond the typical debriefing. There are several hundred people in this Levi shelter and everyone is a perspective client or client family group. Sometimes I feel like the person throwing the starfish back into the ocean, but it is making a difference to as many as twenty or thirty people in here. The “listener” idea was out of desperation. They are not debriefers, they are just good people wanting to help. But when asked, do we not give any guidelines? It is a dilemma so that is what you will see on the next page the guidelines for helping the volunteers listen. These are just quick ideas that Barb and I came up with.

Protocol for LISTENING in the Shelters

1. Introduce yourself and your name.

2. First questions to ask:
“Where are you from?”
“How long have you been here?”
“Were you there during the hurricane?”

3. The above questions are often enough to get a willing person talking without much effort at all. This should tell you their readiness to talk.

4. If they do not seem receptive, your BACK OFF response should be to ask if there is anything that you can get them or do they need anything and then help them with that. After helping, say something like “take care” and do move on around the room.

5. If it IS acceptable to continue, then they will likely just keep talking.

6. Only ask questions if the person stops talking and do not interrupt.

7. Always maintain good eye contact with the person as they tell their story, nod your head to indicate you are paying attention at appropriate times, show interest.

8. Remember to have supportive body language and reflect back to the person with out exactly parroting their words.

9. Prompting questions can be along who, what, where, when and how line. “What was the wind like?” “How high did the water go?” “Who was with you in the room?” “What time was it?”. Think of yourself as a detective of sorts.

10. After the story is told, ending questions can be….
“What scared you the most?”
“What worries you the most?”
“Where do you get the strength to go on?”
“What is it you wish for now?”

11. Do NOT ask how the person feels. Do NOT give advice. Do NOT act like a therapist.

12. DO be a witness and let him or her tell it like it is. DO follow your common sense and know when to back off. DO leave them with a positive thought as the evacuees are in survivor mode. “You’re really brave to have gone through all that.” “You’re a very strong person.” “You are very brave to tell your story.”

Thursday September 29/05

We got an early start today so we would be early for our debriefing meeting with the three staff members who have been doing many extra hours helping at the shelters run by BCFS. We actually arrived too early, so we walked to a corner store that was a dollar store and got a few more supplies. Along the way, we saw a beautiful painted wall of art and took a picture of it. This is such a beautiful city and these shelters are in large abandoned buildings, so quite a contrast. This is a team of four people – one supervisor and three staff, and their normal job is to run a middle school program with most doing after school programs. All the staff members were very talkative and essentially did talk about feeling overworked, tired and that the system and the clients both did not appreciate their efforts. Many times, they felt the evacuees treated them like they were there to serve rather than to help. The worst thing for one of them was the shock of seeing the shelter for the first time…coming into the very large room and seeing all the beds and the people and realizing that they all lived there under one roof like that.

Truly, that was very overwhelming for me too as I think back, but how quickly I accepted that this is how they live and within hours was walking comfortably around the place myself. I mean, I still can’t get over how many evacuees wanted, and I stress, wanted their pictures taken to document this poignant and difficult time in their lives…and we have the pictures to show but we have nowhere to send them to because they don’t have addresses anymore. Barb was able to get one address for Carina’s family, but that was the exception. For so many others, it was about starting their lives over again. And that wall of pictures in the shelter was a testament to their lives.

This takes me to the worst part in the day. A call came in from Richard, that Levi was being dismantled today. In fact, as it turns out, the evacuees were told to get up at six and get breakfast because they were all on their way to Waco to a veteran’s hospital and within about six hours, 450 people were moved out of Levi-- possessions and all-- into buses. This was a government decision. When Barb and I got there, many people were in the buses just sitting and a number were also on the lawn, waiting. I talked to James, the man in his twenties with wife Ashley and a young baby and his first question for me was whether I had been able to find him the Lion King coloring book he wanted. Actually, we did go to a few stores but there were no Lion King books to be had but I did pick up three coloring books that had great animal pictures and I gave those to him with a pack of pencils. He expressed some minor frustration that they were moving, but his wife Ashley pointed out that they would be able to have their own rooms in a closed up Veteran’s hospital and that had to be a good thing.

No one milling around the grassy area seemed that upset, but inside the beds were almost all dismantled and many different emergency type crews were there cleaning up and getting things packed, and the police and FEMA were well represented. The head of one medical emergency unit, came over and we talked about how she felt her team should be debriefed too, but the one guy she was with said that a good debriefing to him was a beer. As he walked away, she said that all of them really did need a good debriefing, but she would not likely be able to convince them. Other staff seemed lost, even the police and there were many very sad people, not just evacuees. The medical emergency person told me that some people after hearing the news at first, were grabbing her arm saying they didn’t want to go. Within a few hours, I saw none of that. I walked into the games room where the art wall was and the pictures were untouched… no one had removed them to take with them. It was decided to take down the wall because for now, it would be an empty building and better to go with us than to go in the garbage. I told staff to take the ones that were near and dear to their hearts and Barb and I collected the rest. We both wrestled with keeping the wall up, because maybe it would be good in new evacuees came in (Levi has been closed down three times in the last month and them reopened for new evacuees). Yet, with no guarantee it would open again, we took the pictures. I got one last picture of the wall, a few of us took down the pictures, and then I tool a picture of the empty wall. That was, after all, how everyone was feeling…empty.

As we left Levi today, some of the evacuees had animals on their laps and it was only then I noticed the many animal cages in some FEMA vehicles. All along, there was a room that housed caged animals but I never heard any animals…I mean the place is huge. At least the evacuees had their animals. Some people aren’t so kind to the evacuees, saying all they want is three “hots” and a cot, but I wonder where we all would be if everything was taken away from us.

Tonight, Barb and I went to the Riverwalk area here for a break. I never noticed so many rich people before. Note to self: Don’t take what I have for granted.

Friday September 30/05

For the last two mornings in a row, I have been woken up by a 5 a.m. alarm clock in the vacant room next door. I complained yesterday and was assured that the alarm would be turned off…so now I am grumpy….and for whoever is reading this right now, you are probably all glad I am here instead of there! Or, I should say y’all are glad that I am not there. It turns out I have a type of British accent here...didn’t know that! We are about to go and have lunch with Richard for a debriefing of our work to date. I did consider driving to Waco to see what the evacuees really were getting as far as accommodations but it is like driving from Windsor to Toronto and there are still Katrina shelters open here. I think I am better off staying here. They don’t have a lot of kids in them but they do have talkative adults. I have realized that in a mass tragedy like this, some conventions go out the window for sure and I need to also spend time with adults and seniors too. I won’t get to train volunteers in the ‘listening package’ now because Levi is closed, at least for now, but I think it is a great package when there are not enough trained counselors in a major crisis. So, on my way to clean up and go. Back later.

Well, it has been a long and good day. Barb and I spent a lot of time at the Operation Command Centre and debriefed our debriefing with the three staff members with Richard. Most staff members in the agency have been going full-tilt since September 2nd and with the onset of Rita, things have been more pressured because now there are both Katrina and Rita evacuees here. Richard talked about some of his experiences in Sri Lanka and if you have a weak stomach, don’t read the next two lines, but he noted that he was there a week after the tsunami hit and there was still the stench of dead bodies saturated into the sand, even though they had been buried for at least a few days at that point. Richard mentioned that his first visit there was emergency mode but he has been twice and the healing has begun. Since the tsunami, Richard’s agency BCFS, has foster homes there operating so now they have a link. It is quite exciting, yet so debilitating when staff are “at it” for four weeks and more at a time. Currently, there is no relief in sight. Just today in the paper, there was concern that 12000 more evacuees may be headed to San Antonio and it is unclear who will be getting the FEMA contract for that. For me, it is so hard to imagine the magnitude of it all… so I have worked hard at making this the best personal and PD experience ever…and I think that I have detailed it in pictures in an amazing way. Christina, the supervisor of the three staff, wants us to send out pictures to her so she can put them to music in a slide show. She says she needs to do this, as it is therapy for her. Richard also looked at some of the pictures and wants them too. They really are great...I mean for what they are. It is human strife and human survival in pictures and art.

After Richard took us out for a Mexican lunch as a “thank you” for our work (it was the BEST Mexican food I have ever tasted), he drove us back to the operations center in his truck. I was sitting alone in the back. San Antonio is all highways everywhere you go and there are access roads beside them with turnarounds if you make a mistake. So, the road has many lanes….I heard a weird screech and there in the lanes on the other side of the highway is a white car that has gone completely out of control and is screeching sideways back and forth hitting cement abutments…and as it slides backwards a motorcyclist drives right into it (he has no choice, it was that fast), his bike stops cold and the cyclist somersaults over the hood of the car several times and plops on the ground. The car is still slamming back and forth across the lanes sideways and the cyclist literally drags himself up and drags away from his spot…and if he hadn’t done that, the car would have hit him again. Well, we are on the other side of the highway about four lanes away and there is no way to stop. But, it is a peak time of day so many others witnessed the accident…but we drive on …no choice. I am like screaming “oh my God”, Barb isn’t in a good position to have seen anything and Richard sees the cyclist also get up by looking at his rear view mirror. So, we don’t really have a choice, we just drive on, just a bit more traumatized.

Richard gave us some nice t-shirts too for working and he has been so kind and inviting all of these days. I will be on my own now because Barb’s plane leaves in the morning. When we get back to the hotel, I decided to go over to Lackland Baptist shelter because I believe there are new evacuees arriving from a few of the other small shelters closing. Well, there are a few but most people from Katrina now can get around easily by bus and the place only has about thirty people. I notice a ten-year-old girl who is by herself. Her name is Joelyn and she tells me that she is actually the daughter of a volunteer, but I also learn that she comes a lot while her mom is volunteering so I figure why not recruit her for the cause. We sit and read the Brave Bart book about kids and grieving and trauma. Joelyn was so excited that she had this new book and was also excited that now she could be the reader for kids as they came into the shelter. So, you just never do know where you will get help to carry on some of your work (don’t get any ideas….a 10-year-old still can’t replace me on the job, although she was sure a lot sweeter than I could ever be).

Melkyer joins us for dinner…it is dinnertime at the shelter, but I am eating late tonight with Barb. He is an older gentleman with a lot of wisdom. He lives in New Orleans and he figures that his fourth floor apartment didn’t get water damage so what is all this hue and cry about not going back…after all, in his world, people die every day. He tells me that at least 90 per cent of the people in this shelter from Katrina are living better now than they ever were and he thinks that this is the best time of his life. He has made a lot of new friends from all over the world and asks me could I have ever foreseen a time that we would have sat together rubbing elbows because he can tell that most of the volunteers come from a different side of life…he says he loves how he is treated by the volunteers… we treat everyone with respect and he personally has never had that. Melkyer reports that his parents were illiterate but they were smart and he figures the Lord will get him through. He eats slow as he imparts all his wisdom and he enjoys the spotlight…for him this is new and he loves it. I ask him though about other evacuees who cannot find loved ones, who have partners and young families to worry about raising, that for them it is not just “three hots and a cot”. For Melkyer, there is no reason why people just can’t get on with life. He believes these people live in chaos and crisis and violence everyday...the hurricane wasn’t even that bad, and the flooding can be cleaned up. But, I notice he eats really slowly and he talks a very long time about not being traumatized. I hope to see him tomorrow.

When I am about to leave, I am pleasantly surprised to see David, Stephanie and their baby at Lackland. David gives me a big hug….it is so good to see him and he is smiling. He says it is nice to see a familiar face (it doesn’t take too long to realize that attachments can be made over just a few short days). I had really worried about them getting on the bus, especially after their five-day ordeal. Stephanie is smiling from ear to ear too, and she has had a great checkup with the doctor. Her baby is still about two weeks off and they will name him Demarcus. David casually mentions that ever since he “spilled his guts that day” to us; he started to feel better, like a real survivor. He had hoped to stay in San Antonio and did not want to get on the Waco bus, even if they were offering private rooms in the Veteran’s Hospital. David says that he made his ‘escape” when the “green pants”, the fire fighters, woke him up early and said “we are taking you to Lackland” and they virtually had to sneak the small family in (according to David)…the government doesn’t like it when their orders get crossed. I’m going to try to do more debriefing with Stephanie tomorrow. She is opening up, but David reports she is still pretty quiet. I left her my best colored pencils, the kind that also can erase, some paper and I’m on my way. It has been a long rewarding day.

Saturday October 1/05

Hi all. Well, just a short note to say that I just learned that the Rita evacuees going to Waco ended up in an abandoned Wal-Mart without sufficient toilets or bedding. The paper said that these people overcame Rita, the evacuation, and now bureaucracy is going to kill them. More on that later. There are 75 new evacuees coming into Levi from Kelly, the large public shelter of Katrina evacuees, so when I stopped in, they said please stay. I need a shower and I am on my way back. They have only a skeleton staff! More on that later, too.

The day began and ended with seeing weird things happen on the highway. It still unnerves me to drive around here, with all the fast highways. I feel like a beginning driver and it takes a ton of energy to be constantly vigil for the 20-minute drive to work. I don’t mind that I am 20 minutes away because I can clear my head but the traffic is always pretty crazy. After driving Barb to the airport (it was sad to see her go but she was ready to return to normal life), I am driving toward the command center and discover that a car is turning left from the other street in front of me like an old lady. Then I realized I couldn’t even see the driver. On closer inspection, a young man is slumped at the wheel and his car cruises into a grassy field-like area? Do I stop? Well, Richard gave me a cell phone and I decide that the best avenue is to call 911. The emergency services tend to come pretty fast around here, and to be honest, I am worried about being alone and this being some kind of trick. It is very early in the morning. Levi has hardly any people at all there as it turns out once I get there. It has been taken over by the American Red Cross to help evacuees from other shelters such as Windsor Park and Lackland to get their checks from FEMA. New shelter rules have emerged, there are more police evident, and even yellow ‘’do not cross” tape keeps people out of the main shelter room.

At the front door sits a young woman by the name of Marie, who has come from Port Arthur. She told me she has been at Levi for four days and has been told that she can now stay at Levi. This is a really good thing because the morning paper is full of the evacuee story about how the Levi people were transported to Waco and ended up in an abandoned Wal-Mart. The same people that Barb and I and countless other volunteers nurtured after the trauma of Hurricane Rita. I think about Barbi and her mother and her two kids, and how angry she would be at feeling victimized again. I also think about Sarah with the big smiles from yesterday with her baby Mia with asthma and how devastated she would be not to be treated with kindness and respect. I think the plan is to get the evacuees to the VA hospital pretty quickly, but even a few days will be very traumatizing. I am sickened by the newspaper report that when the evacuees arrived, they were forced to pile their belongings in one huge pile to have it inspected for contraband. When they went to collect their searched belongings, things were missing and it appears that other evacuees may have rifled through things. I can attest to the fact that nothing…and I do mean nothing…was touched by the evacuees at Levi when they were here, but I know that they are a marginalized group and perhaps when treated like animals and without respect, they act with less respect for each other. Multiple traumas. I am hopeful that something that Melkyer said earlier is true, that these people have been challenged many times and they can survive the worst. This intrusion into their private belongings does, in many ways, seem at least part of the worst of mankind. On another level, I understand the need for safety, but isn’t there a more humane way?

Back to Marie. Marie survived the hurricane and did stay throughout the hurricane and for four days after. For her, she recalled seeing many damages due to wind. Her own home, mostly brick, survived reasonably well except for her windows and she has come to Levi because she is taking care of her son’s father, a man that she is no longer romantically involved with, but she pointed out that someone has to help him. What really amazed her about the hurricane was that the bricks on her neighbor’s house were actually dislodged by the high winds and many bricks were on the ground. The hardest part for her is having her children scattered among relatives and she still hasn’t heard about some of her more distant relatives. I told Marie that if I can find out anything, I would be glad to let her know. The head medical unit nurse told me that, from her perspective, it would have to be over a number of volunteer’s bodies if any more evacuees are moved to Waco. I can see now how easy it is to feel attached to the evacuees I meet. There is very little anger expressed, and at the same time, such human kindness and tenderness by people on all levels.

Inside, I spent time with Patience Desiree, a three-year-old girl from Snake River, near Liberty, TX, and she is thrilled to do some drawing. Patience immediately drew a tree on her car and one on her house. Patience could remember that when all the winds hit, she could hear a little boy screaming and screaming. She also drew a picture of her birthday party. It appears to be quite a theme that when a young child is allowed to free draw that a happy picture of some kind tends to emerge at the same time almost like a balance. Raymond, Patience’s father, supported Patience’s story about the hurricane except that Patience has thrown in that she saw a fire too, but that was another unrelated incident and a very small fire, at least to him. Raymond was been listening to Patience and I talking and drawing and he detailed how he is fighting alcoholism and a violent past. Not only has he been prone to violence, but also his uncles used to use him as the ball in most of their sports games. Raymond stated he has been in jail for his violence and he is worried that his medication will not always work. He is also worried that, in this situation, he will not always have his medication. We talked about the hurricane but when asked what the hardest part has been for all of this, he recalled a time two years ago when his father-in-law accidentally ran over his wife’s ankles and feet with a car. Just before I left here, Raymond told me he prefers to go by Wayne, and he also introduced me to his wife, Laughter, actually named after a distant relative.

Going over to Lackland, one of the first people I met was Mashunda, who asked me who I was because she has seen me around talking with all the people. When I told her, she asked if I would speak to her parents, David and Olemphia, as they had stayed at the New Orleans Convention Centre for four days and saw great violence and dead bodies. I asked her to please introduce me, but she says that they weren’t here right now because they have gone to get a bed. I am hopeful that I will get to meet David and Olemphia over the next few days and I assured her that I would look for them.

Trying to get my journal sent off on the shelter Internet isn’t too difficult because many evacuees do not have the Internet usually and they don’t like being on it…it is frustrating for them. Ernest was just to the side of the computer finishing his telephone call and we got talking. Ernest lived at almost ground zero where the New Orleans levee first broke. He was sitting in a wheelchair because his feet are infected from the contaminated water, even a month later. Within minutes, he found himself in 25 to 30 feet of water and he was forced to swim for his life with his stepbrother on his back. His stepbrother has no legs and Ernest found a piece of plywood and a tire that then acted as a raft. The water rose very quickly and Ernest recalled seeing many dead bodies in the water. Ernest figured that the gushing water had unexpectedly trapped them. It really unnerved him to see dead bodies in cars, and again he figured that those drivers and passengers never had a chance, the water came in that quickly.

Ernest had a dog called Pebbles, a dog he loved very much. Pebbles couldn’t be rescued. As Ernest and his brother stayed on the roof of another house for safety, he could hear Pebbles barking in the distance. She barked for hours. By dawn, the barking ceased and Pebbles was never seen again by Ernest or any of his neighbors. Ernest talked about his dog with great sadness, and then changes the topic suddenly toward the attempt to reach safety again. Ernest reports that he was relieved that he did not have to go to the Convention Centre because his step-brother in a diabetic and they were allowed to take a truck right to the hospital because the step-brother had been without insulin for four days. Ernest wants to give something back to the children in the shelter and he has been drawing cartoon figures for some of them. He actually is quite talented and is delighted to have his picture taken with the drawings. I could tell Ernest was done talking but he does return long enough to tell me that he really knew he was in trouble when he saw that his fridge was floating in just a matter of seconds of the water hitting the house. At the end of the night, Ernest sought me out to ask about a pencil sharpener. I gave him one as well as his own fabric markers so he can make a cartoon figure on a shirt for David’s son.

Although it is getting quite late, I realized that Terry’s grandparents were over by the side of the room. Their names were Edna and Allen and they were from the St. Bernard Parish area of New Orleans. Edna is 90 years old and Allen is 87 years old. Both of them credit Terry with saving their lives. They recalled that the water came in very quickly into the house, and rose about thirteen feet. They had decided to stay in New Orleans because they owned a two-story house and figured the water wouldn’t rise more than five or six feet. Terry literally had to swim up the steps to save them by prying the bars of the windows open (she literally ripped them off the wall) and then breaking the windows.

Terry also helped save the family next door who lived in a single-floor house and were trying to chop through the roof. Edna talked about how surprised she was to see the fridge on its side and that is when she knew she was in trouble. For both of them, their biggest worry now is to find a place to live but they would like to go to Slidell where they have a daughter. The worst part was getting rescued because it was so hard to get in and out of the boat. Then Edna recalled how hard it was to get into the helicopter at one point in their rescue. She laughed as she talked about this part being on CNN. She hated getting into the contaminated water and still has a rash from it. Allen recalled how one of the worst parts was when he had to wear the same clothes for four days as they went from one place of shelter to another until they arrived at Lackland. Edna said the highlight of her journey was when she could go shopping at the “clothing store” in the shelter and she didn’t have to pay for the clothes. Literally, Allen and Edna do not have one single possession left except for their wallets. They both also seemed to have a real sense of humor when asked about how they would get to Slidell…Edna pointed out Terry had just bought a truck and they really couldn’t go in their truck since it sat in their garage back home and they figured it would just a little water-logged.

The most discouraging part for Edna was when they realized FEMA will pay for an apartment but not for assisted living and both of them figured at their ripe ages, they had earned it. The advice both would give is to leave, GET OUT, and don’t second-guess yourself. They did have a lot of warning but at the same time, Edna didn’t know if she could stand the bumper-to-bumper traffic in regard to the escape from the city. Edna and Allen have decided not to even go back and look at the house because she figures she would have a heart attack just seeing it. Edna has lived in that house 34 years, and married Allen 16 years ago. Allen said that the house had sheet rock walls and lots of insulation, so he can just imagine the mess it has made. They were thrilled I wanted to take their picture and even hammed it up a bit for the pose.

What I thought was going to be a short day ended up to be very long but very hear-warming. As I made my way home, I came across another HUGE traffic accident again on the other side of the road, this one being a large pile-up of at least ten cars. Little London looks better all the time.

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