Day Two, a short story

Internet access is sporadic and hard to find, so I'll grab it while I can. We are now at the wharf, getting a tour of the areas hit by the storm. What at first glance seems like a regular neighborhood is spotted with signs of storm and flood damage. You can see water lines on homes, signals for search parties right next to beautiful homes.

We are blessed with a wonderful guide - Joyceln, a minister from the Loyola Academy. and she is part story-teller, part activist. She brings us into a house that is owned by one of her colleagues at Loyola. The house was destroyed by flooding, as was the neighborhood it seems. And since there was no assistance, her friend got together her other friends, and at this point, they have managed to tear down the house, to the bare basics. And it sits, empty, what seemed like a nice, local family neighborhood. Now it's a shell of what it was. Seems like some are slowly coming back. But it takes a lot of work, money, and patience.

An hour later, we're at "ground zero" - total devastation. The 9th ward. Unlike the other neighborhoods we visited, this one has no signs of life. Huge, empty lots, or spaces with nothing but a cement slab where a house once stood. Street after street we slowly drive, and we are quiet. I've never seen anything like this. A hollowness, where are the people who used to call this home? Where are their children? What will they do with their spot of land? Joycelyn says many of them are still paying mortgages, property taxes, cable bills, and they have nothing but a square plot of overgrown weeds. There is no power, lights, water, trash pickup. We leave this area, confused, and all deep in our own thoughts.