Katrina and New Orleans and Me

A "gutted" house in the Upper Ninth Ward. All of the damage had to be removed in order to rebuild.

Ten years ago, Hurricane Katrina hit and forever changed New Orleans and its people. The levees broke and submerged most of the city under water. Some evacuated before the storm hit. Others stayed in New Orleans for a number of reasons. Some of those ended up pleading for help on their rooftops or at shelter sites, including the Superdome and Convention Center. It was days before help arrived and food and water were delivered. Many people felt as if they were left to die by the authorities at the local, state, and federal level. 

Rosie holding court on her front patio in the Upper Ninth Ward.

I was lucky enough to be able to travel to New Orleans three times to perform relief work. I was a student at Saint Mary's College and it was part of separate classes in January 2007, Spring 2007, and January 2008. We did many kinds of physical labor, including clearing out homes that hadn't been touched since the storm. We always strived to find a photograph or keepsake that we could save and give to the homeowner. Despite all of the physical work we did, our class was intentional about empowering the residents we worked with. We truly collaborated with New Orleanians. We spoke with them, asked them questions, listened, and did the same when they wanted to.

To borrow a phrase used by those who went before me, we were blessed to be a witness. 

I encourage you to check out the blog our class created and kept from all of the trips to New Orleans. Click around to read any of the days' stories, see pictures, and watch videos. I bet it's a view of the city you haven't seen before. Visit: smcnola.blogspot.com

We took out plaster walls in a house that hadn't been touched in 16 months since Katrina.

Sarah's house getting an extra layer of "Tennis Ball Green" paint.

Many hands make light work as we build the sheet rock ceiling.

Lunch break in front of Rosie's house

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The experiences on those trips mean a lot to me to this day. At one point I was toying with the idea of getting a tattoo of fleur-de-lis. I never got the ink, but the memories are tattooed on me in a different way. My conversations and time there shaped who I am today. Two brief stories about how that happened.

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Sarah and me in April 2007

Part of our class assignment was to create videos about the people we met. We worked with a woman named Sarah and helped paint her house. She chose the most vibrant of color, a shade that we lovingly came to call Tennis Ball Green. At the time, she was living in a so-called FEMA Trailer. We had heard many complaints, mostly secondhand, about these trailers. We wanted to focus our video on her trailer experience and expected her to be critical of it, too. Imagine our surprise when we hit record and she exclaimed, "Oh, I love it... I call this Home." That moment taught me not to expect answers of others, but to approach with curiosity and led them lead me to where they are. Sarah is so full of life and her outlook comes through in the video. Her positivity is an inspiration I haven't been able to shake since. Here's the 5-minute video we made in January 2007.

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Rosie Boitmann

There was a group of students who went the year before me and worked closely with Rosie. Rosie tells the story of why she decided to stay through hurricane and how she rode out the storm. What has been burned into my memory is the way she describes the weeks after when people from all over pour into the city. It's simultaneously heartbreaking and heartwarming. Please watch the 6-minute video from January 2006.

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These voices are just two in a chorus of countless who have stories worth telling and listening to. This story will get a lot of coverage this weekend on its tenth anniversary. I hope you're able to listen to a few more stories than you otherwise would have and learn a bit more about the city before, during, and since.