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Katrina - A true perspective




WORLDGATE INTERNATIONAL

Media Sector
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www.worldgateglobal.com


Louisiana gives one the feel of being in a foreign land,
somewhat out of place in the United States. This state
stands apart with its own distinct personality and culture.
It is rich in French influences, Creoles and Cajuns,
parishes instead of counties, foods like gumbo and crawfish
etouffee. A first thought of Louisiana leads one to think
of the New Orleans signature Mardi Gras and Fat Tuesday.
Never ending parties and drunken stupors mixed with heavy
jazz infusions helped to shape the city called New Orleans.

Yet beyond what the media has shown us about this city,
there is an unseen peril. Make no doubt about it. New
Orleans is a dangerous city. High crime. High poverty.
Corruption on many levels. A lot of strange things happen
in this state. Witchcraft is commonly practiced. This is
the home of the voodoo parade and the gay pride parade. It
is common to see Catholic churches with large African
American congregations. Coffins are placed on top of the
ground instead of under the ground. In a sense, the city
of New Orleans is Gumbo, mixing many facets in one locale.
The mood of the state is summed up in the New Orleans
saying of “Le bon temps- roulez”, which means “let the good
times roll.” Hurricane Katrina has stopped the good times
from rolling.

I remember entering the airport in Baton Rouge, La on
September 4th at approx 10pm. I thought that the airport
would be filled to capacity. Strangely, It was pretty
deserted. Many of the people that I did see had this
distinct blank look. I couldn’t quite understand what
this look was on so many faces. I recalled thinking to
myself what is behind that look?

I arrive in the city where my parents live, Abbeville,
Louisiana. Abbeville is deep in Louisiana’s Bible belt.
Although only 2 .5 hours from New Orleans, this area did
not get physically touched by the Katrina. Yet Katrina has
helped to double the population of most towns and cities
that lay west of New Orleans. People here will tell you
they did not get impacted by Katrina because they prayed to
God and he spared them. Some argued that it was merely a
man-made levee not being upgraded. Others debated that the
government was at fault; New Orleans is predominantly poor
black people and our country didn’t care if they lived or
died. Others stated that helping Katrina victims would
breach homeland security leaving the U.S vulnerable. Most
believed that this was the day that God destroyed New
Orleans.

September 5th
It’s Sunday and I am at my Father’s church. I am opening
the door for a group that has sauntered in after the start
time. I see that look again on their faces that I had
previously seen in Baton Rouge. The zombie like trance
that I still can’t articulate with words. A few moments
later I find out that this family is from New Orleans and
has nothing. An older woman with a walker and an autistic
adult is with this group which has been labeled evacuees.
Any words we may have spoken would have little effect. It
is immediately decided that we would make a financial
contribution to this family. Throughout the service, this
family shows no emotions. They are polite yet unassuming.


Monday September 6th
My Father takes me to a trailer where I meet relatives who
survived Katrina. As we enter their temporary home, I view
approx 7-8 people. I meet an elderly relative named
Elmonia Joiner. She is very hospitable yet her voice is
tinged with nervousness. A young pregnant female named
Kizzy, who is a distant cousin, is sitting on a couch.
When introduced to us she stated hello, but never looked at
us. There it was again. That look in the eyes that met me
in Baton Rouge. Yet on Kizzy it was intensified. Kizzy
tells me her story.

Kizzy Williams is a 27 years old single mom with a 9 year
old son named Kendrick and a 5 year old named Willie. She
is expecting her third child in November. For the past 15
years, her home has been the Lafitte housing projects in
the 6th ward of New Orleans. Kizzy believed 1000 people
live in these projects. My cousin recalls that during her
years of living in Lafitte, hurricane warnings were common.
Just last year they were told to evacuate because of a
“hurricane” but one never occurred. Kizzy has been through
hurricanes and flooding in the projects. It is no big
deal. After Katrina hit and subsided, my cousin believed
the worst was over.

The morning after Katrina hit, the waters started to rise.
The entire first floor of the projects housing development
was flooded. No electricity caused Kizzy’s brother to go
to the local Wal-Mart and take food supplies. Family
members who lived on the first floor migrate to Kizzy’s
apartment which is on the second level. A total of 12
people are in one apartment. On the second day with no
running water, limited food, and no electricity, 5 of the
12 people in Kizzys apartment depart. The startling thing
to me is that the entire world knows what has happened to
New Orleans, yet most in the city couldn’t fathom the
magnitude of what was occurring with no television or
radio. Kizzy was thinking to herself that this was just
another day in the projects, life has always been tough.

On the 3rd day Kizzy and the remaining family members began
to sense that something was wrong because the projects had
emptied out. Helicopters began to appear as the seven went
to the balcony of the apartment and waved t-shirts hoping
that someone would come rescue them. The water on the
first floor of her building is chest high. Kizzy stated
that days 4-5 were spent trying to flag down a helicopter
from the balcony.

On day 5, a helicopter was able to assist my cousin and
airlifted all seven people one by one from the balcony of
the apartment. Kizzy stated they were taken too the Huey
P. Long bridge where approx 5000 people slept under the
bridge on make shift cots. Kizzy shared a cot with her
family members as each periodically switched for equal
time. Less than 10 port- poddies were shared by the masses
that stayed under that bridge. Kizzy recalled the
horrible stench in what she called a “dirty, funky, nasty,
pissy place”. There was no toilet tissue. After spending a
night under the bridge, my cousin was then transported to
the New Orleans airport. She believed that approx 10,000
people were their in deplorable living conditions. The
smell was horrible. She was then flown to Austin, Texas
which she stated was a nice place that really took care of
them. Her brother Gene traveled from Abbeville, La and
brought her to his home. Kizzy has no idea how her brother
found her.

Kizzy spends the rest of the day at the social security
office. I asked Kizzy If there was anything else to add to
her story. She hesitated and said “my unborn childs father
was in a New Orleans jail and she has no idea where he is
now or even if he is still alive.

September 7th
My parents and I visit the Abbeville Boys and Girls club.
The club has been transformed into a shelter for many of
the New Orleans evacuees. As we enter the building we are
met by a minister from the church of scientology. We ask
if there was any thing that we could do. Many cots were
strewn throughout the club. I quickly glanced among the
crowd and I see that look again. A blank stare on adults
and children. My parents and I randomly began to talk to
people who have been displaced and have no point of
reference. We approach a young man and ask him how is he.
He stated that he was well; the people at the club have
been very nice. He is grateful for his meals of biscuits
and gravy. He speaks with my father and requests help in
locating a job so He can start over. My father immediately
begins to obtain his particulars to assist. Soon after,
children begin to come. We spend the next hour just
talking, hugging and encouraging. My cell phone becomes a
hot item. The evacuees utilize the phone to attempt to
contact loved ones whom they cannot find. My father
becomes a point of contact to many for jobs, church, and
counseling.

September 8th
My parents are preparing to take in three relatives who
escaped to Atlanta because of Katrina. They lost
everything. Before I depart to Indiana, I attempt to
find Kizzy to take her picture. She cannot be found. I
locate a 23 year old cousin who is living in the trailer.
His name is Timothy Peters. He escaped Katrina before it
hit. Timothy has that look that I had become accustomed to
seeing. I asked Timothy what was going on with him. He
stated that he had been praying to God to help him get out
of New Orleans. His life was surrounded by drugs and
murder. He never imagined that God would answer him like
this. He stated that he has nothing to go back to. He
then hesitated and stated “I’m lost, just lost. I finally
understood the look that I had become accustomed to seeing
in Louisiana. People affected by Katrina were lost and
didn’t know where to begin.

Thank you to Debra Swendenberg, Joan Chumley, and WorldGate
International. Your generous financial donations were used
to help those in this story.

Dion Campbell

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