Aftermath (Part 2) (511 hits)
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Submitted by Goose <goosehkr at hotmail dot com> (View user info) at 2005-09-29 15:25:04 EDT
Aftermath (Part 2)
I was part of a relief crew that went down to Louisiana in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina, which I announced on uber at http://www.ubersite.com/m/74377 . This is the second part of the story of what happened on the way down and in the disaster area itself.
Part 1 - http://www.ubersite.com/m/76034
Saturday, 03 September 2005
We've been driving straight through the night and into early morning, and running Chinese fire drills to switch out drivers every couple of hours. We've only been stopping for gas, and every time we stop, we fill up a couple of the spare jerry cans we brought along, since we've been hearing news of massive gas shortages across the south. We've been amusing ourselves telling stories, playing cards, and reading the whole way down, but after dinner, people started to peter out and crash. In the six-person camper, there were exactly enough seats so everyone could sit at one time, but now that people are starting to stretch out, it becomes a little more difficult. I'm somewhat of an insomniac, so by the time I actually feel tired, the only spot available is on a hardwood bench that fronts up next to the kitchen table. I try this for an hour or so, but I'm not getting anywhere, so I offer to take the next driving shift.
I drive us through the sunrise and into Alabama, fired up on Mountain Dew and beef jerky. Charlie takes over for me, and I get up and walk around and stretch. As the sun starts to stream into the camper, people start waking up and moving around again. As soon as we moved into Alabama, our boss decides that we're not going to let the camper fall below 2/3 of a tank, so we pull over to find gas and breakfast.
The first three filling stations we come to are sold out and closed down. We finally decide to call this off ramp a bust, and pull into a Greyhound station for breakfast. They had a breakfast buffet for long-haul truck and bus drivers, but they were welcoming everybody in. We settle down to gorge ourselves on good old fashioned home cooking when we notice the TV behind us is showing CNN footage from outside of New Orleans. As we finish eating, we start drifting over to the TV and watch. Pretty soon we were all huddled around it, along with a number of the locals who were already eating when we pulled in. A couple of us started talking with them, and it didn't take too long for them to notice some of the northern accents scattered across our crew. They asked what we were doing so far south, and we told them we were heading down to help with relief efforts.
An elderly black woman started to cry when she heard this. She told us that God has blessed every one of us, then went back to her table with the help of one of the younger men she was with. The other (her son, as it turned out) told us that they were on their way out of Louisiana, and that they had lost their dad, her husband, on the night of the storm. He hugged a couple of us, and then turned to go. As we filed out of the restaurant as Charlie was paying, every single person in there waved or grabbed our hands to shake or blessed us as we walked by.
A few stops farther down the highway, we pulled off to try for gas again. Out of the four competing gas stations, three had plastic bags tied over the handles, and one was full of people, which we took as a good sign. It turned out that they were out of gas as well, but rumor had it that a tanker truck was on its way to fill the station up. Since we had parked directly in front of a pump, we elected to stay. Most of the crew spread out outside and sat on the hill, to grab a smoke or enjoy the sunlight. Me and Bill walked around a little bit, and noticed that the pickup truck in front of us had a big projection screen TV in the back. The two guys in the truck saw us looking at it, and said that they were helping their friend move. We didn't need any trouble, so we let it go. They seemed nice enough, and even bummed our crew a couple of smokes.
I took this opportunity to go back inside the camper and try to grab a quick nap before we started off again, since I was hitting just over 24 hours without any sleep. It seemed like I had just gotten my eyes closed when a cheer went up: the tanker truck had arrived. I watched the guy driving the truck hook his truck into the underground tank, and then fell back asleep.
"Look out, he's got a gun!" Is what I woke up to, combined with Charlie falling on top of me as he raced into the back of the camper. Some jackass had pulled a gun on the tanker truck driver, and was demanding to be given more than the five gallon limit the station had imposed. Charlie and I grabbed our shotguns; fortunately, the door to our camper was on the opposite side from the tanker truck. I grabbed a box of shells from underneath the sink as we went out side, and handed two to Charlie. He broke his gun and loaded as I slipped four into my chamber. We walked out from behind the RV, and I pulled my slide back (which is, as far as I can tell, the scariest fucking noise ever). The guy jumped a foot in the air, and I winced, because I thought he was going to pull the trigger right there, but he turned his head and looked at us. Charlie told him he thought it was a good idea for the guy to put his gun down, and the guy apparently thought so too, 'cause he put his gun down and put his hands over his head. BJ went over to pick it up, and the guy ran off. I put the safety on my gun on and sat down pretty quick, because my legs had turned to jello.
The tanker truck guy, whose name was Henry, came over to thank me, and put his hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, son," he said. "That's the third time that's happened this morning." I have never wanted a cigarette so badly in my entire life.
The rest of the ride down was much less dramatic. Almost everywhere we stopped, they were out of gas, although one town still had some, and the volunteer fire department was out rationing it off. Since we had authorization from FEMA, we had second dibs on everything, after the National Guard. As we got deeper and deeper into Alabama and crossed into Louisiana, the only people on the road were Humvees, military convoys, and RVs full of people just like us. We drove at the camper's top speed, about 70 mph, because we figured the police had better things to occupy their time with then us.
So far, the only proof that a hurricane had come through was the complete lack of road signs anywhere - they had all been blown to hell.
We pulled into Baton Rouge (or Red Stick, as we liked to call it) that afternoon, and it was as if nothing had happened. Sure, about three-quarters of the gas stations were closed, but it looked like life was going on as normal. He ate at a Checkers, which is a truly disgusting burger joint. That evening we pulled up to the Port Allen lock, where our first base camp was going to be. We made it to the mess tent just in time for dinner, and then we threw the football around until dark.
TBC
User Reviews
Submitted by kimmy02721 (user info) at 2005-10-21 12:49:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
getting interesting....
Submitted by Bizantine (user info) at 2005-10-20 13:41:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-10-04 16:18:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by goose (user info) at 2005-10-04 14:03:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Part 3 - http://www.ubersite.com/m/76430
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-10-03 19:48:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Eeeeeep.
Submitted by goose (user info) at 2005-09-30 08:57:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Yeah, they scare me too, typically when they're pointed at/near/around me.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2005-09-30 08:32:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Holy shit dude. Holy shit.
Good story.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2005-09-29 22:44:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Guns scare me.
Submitted by firefly (user info) at 2005-09-29 16:20:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by NOWorNEVER (user info) at 2005-09-29 15:53:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment