The reason why I wrote this story is different
from the reason why I'm sharing it with you.
First and foremost, I am a writer.
I need to write no matter how many times I've tried to deny
it. I often think that without taking the time to write
things down I would lose the ability to make any sense of
this world. Not that I always succeed, but it helps.
There is a scene in the movie “Twister”
where Joe (Helen Hunt) and Bill (Bill Paxton) lose their
truck and hide from a tornado under a bridge. When asked
what it was like, Joe said, “It was windy.”
Until I sorted through my own thoughts (because
I didn't know where to begin), when people asked what
it was like in New Orleans when Katrina hit I'd say something
like, “It was wet and windy. Mostly wet.”
I couldn't process more than that, there
were no words coming to me that could even begin to describe
what we went through and saw. All I had was a little notebook
full of frantic notes.
I'd like to show
you the following (original) video that was taken
FIVE HOURS AFTER Katrina came to New Orleans. The
wind was still very strong, it was still raining
heavily, and it was difficult to film anything to
the left... but I did catch a tree struggling against
the wind, and a woman determined to walk her dog.
That's life in the Big Easy.
I had days when I would just cry and scream, unable
to tell anyone why... until I wrote it down.
I also needed to mourn. Things happened so quickly
after the initial storm. When you're in survival mode your brain
turns into a different animal and you shut off the grieving
process until you leave the situation, or break down completely.
There were so many moments that needed to be mourned. I needed
to go back and relive them, feel them, and let my heart tear
in two as if that single moment happened in my normal life.
I needed to understand the fear and what it can do to a person.
I needed to rid myself of the sheer desperation that I brought
home with me.
Friends suggested that I see a professional, to
let someone help me work through it. I doubted they really knew
what happened and I doubted I could tell them. I needed to write
and self-council. If that was all I needed, I would have kept
a diary and locked it in my bedside drawer. But I needed to
share it with you. I needed you to know.
When we came home I wanted to get in my car and
drive right back to help the people in New Orleans. I wanted
people to know how bad it was and to HELP THEM. The news didn't
show the truth, they didn't see the truth, and people needed
to know. I was interviewed on the local radio station and said
just that, and I'm not sure if anyone really understood.
It's been a few years and I still need you to
know. New Orleans still needs help. This is the only way I know
how to help them. I can share my story and send back donations
to help the people still living in New Orleans. I can give them
an outside voice, I can tell people what it was like during
the catastrophe, and the events that lead up to the time when
people were allowed back to find out that they too, lost their
homes.
You've heard the cries, but you didn't hear the
scream.
I need you to really understand what happened
so that you can take away a small part of their pain by carrying
it with you.
To those that do or have read the story, I wholeheartedly
thank you.
