Getting over Gustav

There's still plenty of folks in New Orleans who still don't have power, but you can see progress is being made. I was reminded again of the many months following Hurricane Katrina, when I would return to the city on a sporadic basis from my home base in Cleveland. Every single major intersection in the city had stop signs. Many of those same busy intersections were again without power after Gustav and stop signs were hastily erected to prevent accidents. Incredibly, in a city marked by horrible drivers, the low technology worked. Normally disagreeable red light runners would slow, stop and give way to slower vehicles at the all-way stops. It was one of the good things that came out of the Hurricane Katrina recovery effort. No one was going any particular place very fast, so why bother driving like a maniac? It all seemed so clear then. The winds of Gustav may have created more damage than Katrina over a larger area in the state. Of the 64 parishes in Louisiana (every other state calls them counties), only two suffered no damage from Gustav. That's an amazing fact. The hardest hit area continues to be where the storm came ashore, including Grand Isle and Cocodrie, and north of that point in Houma. Many residents who have chosen to return will face lack of power, potable water and sewerage service for several more weeks to come. School districts are having to deal very harsh conditions for students as many facilities are now destroyed. In the end many students will have to be bused or will have to be driven to more remote locations while the recovery effort continue. In the meantime, city and state officials continue to make progress as we all cast a wary eye on the other major storm in the Caribbean, Ike. Hurricane Ike is a dangerous category 4 storm churning up seas with 140 miles-per-hour winds. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers has announced several locations that are in need of repair before Ike gets much closer to New Orleans. Some of these projects are already being undertaken, while others need to be started immediately. The biggest danger seems to be in Grand Isle, where 85% of an 8,000 square foot area on the island's eastern area disappeared after the storm passed. We are all busy getting things back in order, but not all of the boards placed along windows have come down. It would seem silly to take them down only to have to put them back up in another four days time when Ike could be threatening offshore oil operations and moving towards landfall somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico. For those interested in looking at statistical data in a graphic presentation as to the impact of Gustav's storm surge, here's an excellent link prepared by the Times-Picayune, whose award-winning reporter and author Mark Schliffstein has been on top of his game again. 

The drive home, part two

A long line of cars headed into New Orleans at the merger of I-55 and I-10

Thursday morning I arose and loaded up my vehicle, iced down the remaining food items and left the camp around 10:30 a.m. Despite advice from a couple of people, I decided to take a chance and use Interstate-55 for reentry into New Orleans. Traffic was steady and flowing with only a few pockets of what I would term slowdowns where we creeped along at 25 or 30 miles an hour. The only major bottleneck was at the point where I-55 joins Interstate 10. I was there just in time to see the long line of blue flashing Orleans Parish Criminal Sheriff's deputies cars escorting a long caravan of yellow school buses filled with hundreds of our very own criminals to Orleans Parish Prison. It certainly made one proud.
A quick trip to Kosher Cajun Delicatessen and Grocery allowed me to enjoy a bowl of steaming matzah ball soup and a triple salad combination of tuna salad, potato salad and cole slaw. It was quite good and, as it turns out, necessary to prepare me for the rest of the drive.
The trip from Jefferson Parish into New Orleans seemed normal until I got off the exit for Howard Avenue near my home. It was then that I noticed quite a number of downed trees, especially palms and a few pines. Several oak trees had also been toppled by the force of Gustav's winds. As I approached Vendome Place, I noticed the tin roof from a truck leasing business was lying in the front of a next door residence:

There was the usual amount of debris on the streets, especially tree limbs from oaks that find their way into city streets and sometimes impede traffic flow. Luckily for me there were no large limbs blocking my way and I proceeded down Vendome. I spotted an unlucky victim of Gustav, a column on the portico of a home that was now pointed out toward the street:

I proceeded up Vendome to where it intersects with Fountainbleau Drive, near my home and made the turn onto Nashville Avenue. There I found my home somewhat shaken, but definitely marked by Gustav's gusts. The carport that had survived Katrina and all other hurricanes and tropical storms for the last 20 was gone! Only the rigid poles that held it in place remained stationary. Some pieces were in the driveway, but most had been blown into my back yard. The force of the winds had literally torn the carport from the side of my home:

Now don't get me wrong. I wasn't in love with my carport, but it was useful, especially when I had to enter my home in a torrential downpour. It did have a hole put into it one New Year's Eve by a falling bullet that bounced off the roof of my car and came to rest underneath the vehicle. Yes, in New Orleans it is advisable to stay off the open air streets during New Year's Eve. But I guess what struck me was that even with such powerful force evidenced by Gustav's effect on my home, it couldn't compare with the destruction wreaked on it by the floods that came after Katrina. The hurt from Katrina was on the inside rather than that which showed so readily on the outside following Gustav. Meanwhile, many residents of Jefferson and Orleans Parish are still without power. My power is on and I enjoyed a restful night in my own bed for the first time since Saturday night. May it ever be so humble....

The drive home, part one

The drive home from Memphis was done in two stages and at great expense in both time and energy. I had made the trip from Graceland in less than 15 minutes and still had about five or six minutes to spare before the ducks did their thing. So it was that I had just left the Peabody Hotel and thought to myself how lucky I was that I had been able to take advantage of the complimentary parking in their garage for the first half-hour. But my luck was about to change. Thinking ahead, I pulled into a service station in downtown Memphis and topped off my gas tank. As I turned from the street into the Exxon station on Union Avenue, my front right tire, (one of a set of four new tires I had put on my vehicle in June) hit something -- I'm still not sure what. Having a Chevrolet Blazer makes me always think that it's almost tank-like in the way it can roll over objects. But the truth is like many other trucks, it is vulnerable to tire punctures. When I came from having to pay for the gasoline, I discovered to my horror that the tire was already deflated and rapidly losing what little air remained. It was 5:20 p.m. My gut feeling was that I was stuck in Memphis for the night. However, with some helpful suggestions from the service station employees, I called a Firestone station three blocks away. The manager who answered the phone gave me directions. If I wanted to get credit for the punctured tire, I could have changed it with the spare and then put that tire inside my already filled rear compartment, driven to the dealership and replaced the spare with a new tire. Time was moving on and they closed their doors at 7:00 p.m. I knew I had to chance driving on the bad tire and risk not getting any credit for it at Firestone. As it turned out, the puncture was on the sidewall and probably wouldn't have amounted in my getting any credit anyway. The short drive to the dealership took less than two minutes, but by the time I got there the tire was shredded. Taking advantage of the break, I improvised a cocktail with some of the ice in the large plastic bags I had taken from my hotel earlier in the day. It took them nearly an hour to change the tire and for me to get back on the road with the shredded tire inside my very overpacked vehicle for the drive home. You'll recall that I still had a brand new generator taking up most of the available space inside along with food items, clothes and plastic water bottles. Although my rear vision was a bit obscured, I felt ready for the journey when the clock neared 6:45 p.m. Almost as soon as I hit the highway, I ran into a steady hard rain that was left over from Gustav. The rain was non-stop for the next two and a half hours. I got a call from a friend who advised me that the line of cars to get back into Louisiana was 20 miles long. Apparently, Governor Bobby Jindal overrode Mayor Ray Nagin's decision to not allow residents back into their homes and ordered the state troopers to open up the interstate highways to one and all. The cars began lining up at midnight on Wednesday even though the evacuees knew that their homes might be without electricity, water or sewerage services. I had had a busy day and very little sleep, so I called Jonathan Cohen late at night at Henry S. Jacobs Camp and he advised me to get permission from his assistant Avram to have a staff cabin for the night. That was a step up from the camper cabin I had slept in during the storm, mind you. By the time I rolled into camp, it was near midnight. I put the food under refrigeration and went looking for a parking spot along the side of the road near the cabin. It was dark in that area and just after I had pulled into a likely spot, I decided it might be too muddy. I was right. I tried backing out, but the car only went sideways. My rear tires spun around, but could get no traction. I reversed the vehicle and it lurched forward only slightly. I went back and forth, trying in vain to get out of the mud, but to no avail. Only a man possessed could have done what I did next. Instead of going to sleep and dealing with it in the morning, I elected to call AAA. The operator said they would not make an appointment for me for the following morning, so I told them to have a tow truck dispatched immediately. It took almost another hour, but a middle-aged tow operator and his much younger assistant showed up and took all of 10 minutes to get me out of the mud and onto solid ground. Then it was time for sleep.

I'm going to Graceland...isn't that ducky?

The world famous Peabody ducks

Well, you didn't think I'd not take advantage of the lag time I had in Memphis, did you? Those of you who have known me for long know that there is little chance of my getting into Memphis and not checking out Graceland, the home of the King of Rock and Roll. I have never had an opportunity to visit this national landmark, but there is an odd coincidence. I was in Tennessee when the funeral for Elvis Presley was held back on August 18, 1977. Elvis died on August 16 that year and I was in Virginia enjoying a wonderful day out on Smith Mountain Lake near Lynchburg. I was driving back that weekend when I thought long and hard about making it to the memorial service. As it turned out, I decided against going there even though my mother was certain that I was making a beeline for Graceland. When I showed up in New Orleans on time and without a detour to Memphis, I do believe my mother said a prayer and thanked divine providence. There are many things to do in Memphis. Obviously, there are the tours at Graceland and then there is Beale Street, the home most associated with the blues movement in America. But beyond that hoary tradition -- and remember we do have Bourbon Street in New Orleans -- there is also a very engaging practice that takes place every day at 11:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m every day. That's the March of the Ducks at the Peabody Hotel. Many of you are uninformed, but the historic Peabody Hotel has been featuring its twin daily marches for most of the last 73 years. The marches are orchestrated by a "Duckmaster" or "Assistant Duckmaster" and the four mallards and one drake march to the music of John Phillip Sousa's "King Cotton March" during the morning and evening marches to or from the lobby's fountain area where the ducks hang out during the day. The ducks work for three months before another set of ducks are introduced to this strange, but very popular tradition. They begin their march on the roof of the historic Peabody Hotel and return to their "duck palace" by evening. For those of you who have not experienced this delightful tradition, I recommend a trip to Memphis to enjoy this free show.

All the Way to Memphis

Jewish New Orleans evacuees at Camp Henry S. Jacobs in Utica, Mississippi

With the decision still forthcoming from city and state officials as to how and when they would begin to let residents of Orleans and St. Bernard Parishes return, I made the decision to leave the wet and muddy environs of Henry S. Jacobs Camp and venture northward to Memphis. The steady, driving rain for most of the drive through Mississippi made driving conditions difficult. My attention was affixed on the opposite side of Interstate 55 and the astounding number of vehicles headed southward to New Orleans and lower Mississippi. It was notable for one major reason: there were caravans of hundreds of tree cutting and energy service support vehicles traveling ten or 15 trucks at a time. The state border was shut down at Louisiana by state troopers. Unless one was an emergency responder (doctor, policeman, fireman, etc.), he or she could not gain access to the state. Vehicles were being turned away in droves. And so I headed north...towards Graceland and Beale Street. Memphis is home to the largest Orthodox Jewish population in the South and many of the religious observant New Orleans community headed there for support during this evacuation period. Kosher food is plentiful here and an eiruv (enclosure) has been constructed in town that allows Jewish residents within it to carry items on Shabbat, for example. Many Jewish families stayed in Memphis during the weeks they were away following Hurricane Katrina. It wasn't a difficult decision for many of them to make again. After making the drive in intermittent rain still left from the area of disturbed weather that once was Hurricane Gustav, I arrived in the Home of the Blues. Last night with only a few hours to rest, I was invited to the home of Dr. Seth Kaufman, a pain management doctor here. Unbenownst to me, many of the evacuated New Orleans Jewish community had also been invited there. Among the guests were Joel and Natalie Brown of Kosher Cajun Delicatessen and Grocery. They announced they were leaving to make their way back to their store and their Metairie home in the wee hours of Wednesday morning. They said they had only lost power to their refrigerated food items for eight hours, which meant everything was still good. Other guests included their sister-in-law Jennifer Fertel and Dr. Ed and Channah Lang. The Brown's daughter Ruth was celebrating her birthday and several local Jewish girls and boys wearing kippahs (skullcaps) and contemporary clothing were relegated to the kitchen area while the adults dined on kosher beef ribs, vegetarian chili, baked beans with meatless sausage, grilled chicken, grilled eggplant, cole slaw, kosher hot dogs and hamburgers. No one went away hungry, because there was also an ample supply of fresh deserts baked or prepared by Mrs. Kaufman, a former registered nurse. She managed to spring on me something I had never seen before: a yellow watermelon. It was quite refreshing and I had a small portion of some passion fruit sorbet to finish my meal. I was so tired that writing became a chore. That's the reason that this post is going to be made on Wednesday, albeit very early on Wednesday.

Jewish New Orleans evacuees including Kosher Cajun's Joel Brown, center, enjoying Memphis hospitality

AVODAH Corps is here too

Joshua Lichtman, right, meets with some of his AVODAH Corps members, now evacuated to Henry S. Jacobs Camp

Joshua Lichtman, the director of the New Orleans office of AVODAH Corps, the Jewish service organization, had planned to have his orientational retreat for his nine recent college graduate members in Crystal Springs, Mississippi. When Hurricane Gustav threatened New Orleans and Lichtman found that the portion of Mississippi he and the graduate volunteers were in was also threatened and that nearby Camp Henry S. Jacobs was offering sanctuary for anyone in the area, he decided fairly quick to move over to Jacobs and make the best of a bad situation. "Tomorrow morning would have been their first date," Lichtman explained while meeting with most of his group late in the morning at the Jacobs dining room. Seven out of the nine AVODAH members made it to Jacobs. These include Ora Nitkin-Kaner from Toronto; Ariana Kolins from Brooklyn; Yaeli Bronstein from Teaneck, N.J.; David Eber from Salem, Oregon; Meredith Grabek from Paxton, Massachusetts; and Eliza Baron from Milburn, N.J. One volunteer will be dedicating herself to helping with ongoing recovery efforts across the city with Rebuilding Together. One will work with the Public Defender's Office and another, Eber, will be working with the lofty sounding Lower Ninth Ward Center for Sustainable Engagement and Development. I asked him what all of those words meant. "They buy products in bulk and then they give them at little or no cost to residents like green technologies," he said. "They promote getting better business, not just liquor stores and fried chicken stores, but fresh products. It's everything from parks to better lighting, to getting transportation, and getting businesses to help the community."It's certainly a mouthful, but it is an opportunity to make the neighborhood sustainable, both ecologically and economically. These idealistic recent graduates are all living together in an uptown home to which they can't wait to return. If the storm continues on its present track, I can't see any reason why they can't be back in just another day or two.

Girding for Gustav

Evacuees at Henry S. Jacobs Camp watch TV news reports from WDSU-TV

There is no doubt that with the mandatory evacuations of both Orleans and Jefferson Parishes, the greatest confluence of members of the extended New Orleans Jewish community is right here at Henry S. Jacobs Camp in Utica, Mississippi. Worried evacuees have been crowding into the recreation hall at the camp this morning where a large screen rear projection TV with stereo speakers has been broadcasting WDSU-TV's signal over DirectTV's Channel 361. WDSU has always been my favorite New Orleans station. After all, it was the area's first television station, founded in 1948 by Edgar Stern, one of the Jewish community's best known philanthropists. I confess that I especially like Margaret Orr, an accomplished meterologist who might otherwise strike you as a soccer mom. As Gustav approached the Louisiana coastline, she provided incredibly accurate and calming reports that literally took the winds out of the alarmist we call our mayor. In case you wondered what the "C." in C. Ray Nagin stood for, I'll give you a hint. It isn't Classy! While reasonable journalists and responsible city officials were trying to be accurate and give the citizenry expectations of what was to be, Mayor Nagin was in front of the news cameras urging that citzens should "get your butts out of town." It confirms my suspicion that he is the mother of all mayors. According to reports, news from the city is good this morning. Gustav has been downgraded from a Category 3 storm to a Category 2. My good friends in Houma are taking the full force of the storm, but it has proven to be a lot less of a "mother of all storms" and more like a kid sister. There is concern still left for St. Bernard and Plaquemines Parishes because of rising water and the possibility that levees could be topped. Gustav is still a very dangerous storm and the levees will continue to be tested for another 12 hours. Yet, as was the case with Katrina, it could have been so much worse. Snake-bitten New Orleanians, familiar with what Katrina did to the levees structure were not taking any chances. Sure, the metropolitan area is largely without power. But, heck, we're used to blackouts and brownouts ever since the grid went back up after Katrina. So, the waiting game goes on here in Mississippi, but I believe we may have dodged a bullet.